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THE MISTRESS OF BONAVENTURE

BY HAROLD BINDLOSS

Author of "Alton of Somasco," "The Dust of Conflict,"
"The Cattle-Baron's Daughter," etc.

_ONLY AUTHORIZED EDITION_

[Illustration]

NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS




CONTENTS

CHAPTER                    PAGE
     I.  THE SWEETWATER FORD                   1
    II.  BONAVENTURE RANCH                    10
   III.  A MIDNIGHT VISITOR                   22
    IV.  THE TIGHTENING OF THE NET            34
     V.  A SURPRISE PARTY                     45
    VI.  A HOLOCAUST                          58
   VII.  A BITTER AWAKENING                   68
  VIII.  HOW REDMOND CAME HOME                78
    IX.  A PRAIRIE STUDY                      92
     X.  A TEMPTATION                        104
    XI.  IN PERIL OF THE WATERS              113
   XII.  THE SELLING OF GASPARD'S TRAIL      124
  XIII.  AN UNFORTUNATE PROMISE              137
   XIV.  THE BURNING OF GASPARD'S TRAIL      147
    XV.  BEAUTY IN DISGUISE                  159
   XVI.  THE DEFENSE OF CRANE VALLEY         170
  XVII.  THE RAISING OF THE SIEGE            183
 XVIII.  THE VIGIL-KEEPER                    194
   XIX.  THE WORK OF AN ENEMY                205
    XX.  LEADEN-FOOTED JUSTICE               216
   XXI.  AGAINST TIME                        226
  XXII.  BAD TIDINGS                         238
 XXIII.  LIBERTY                             248
  XXIV.  A SECRET TRIBUNAL                   261
   XXV.  A CHANGE OF TACTICS                 272
  XXVI.  THE TURNING OF THE TIDE             282
 XXVII.  ILLUMINATION                        293
XXVIII.  THE ENEMY CAPITULATES               305
  XXIX.  THE EXIT OF LANE                    315
   XXX.  THE LAST TOAST                      326




The Mistress of Bonaventure




CHAPTER I

THE SWEETWATER FORD


After relaxing its iron grip a little so that we hoped for spring,
winter had once more closed down on the broad Canadian prairie, and the
lonely outpost was swept by icy draughts, when, one bitter night,
Sergeant Mackay, laying down his pipe, thrust fresh billets into the
crackling stove. It already glowed with a dull redness, and the light
that beat out through its opened front glinted upon the carbines, belts,
and stirrups hung about the rough log walls.

"'Tis for the rebuking of evildoers an' the keeping of the peace we're
sent here to patrol the wilderness, an' if we're frozen stiff in the
saddle 'tis no more than our duty," said the sergeant, while his eyes
twinkled whimsically. "But a man with lands an' cattle shows a
distressful want o' judgment by sleeping in a snow bank when he might be
sitting snug in a club at Montreal. 'Tis a matter o' wonder to me that
ye are whiles so deficient in common sense, Rancher Ormesby. Still, I'm
no' denying ye showed a little when ye brought that whisky. 'Tis
allowable to interpret the regulations with discretion in bitter
weather--an' here's a safe ride to ye!"

A brighter beam that shot out called up the speaker's rugged face and
gaunt figure from the shadows. Although his lean, hard fingers closed
somewhat affectionately on a flask instead of on the bridle or carbine
they were used to, his profession was stamped on him, for Allan Mackay
was as fine a sample of non-commissioned cavalry officer as ever
patrolled the desolate marches of Western Canada--which implies a good
deal to those who know the Northwest troopers. He was also, as I knew, a
man acquainted with sorrow, who united the shrewdness of Solomon with a
childish simplicity and hid beneath his grim exterior a vein of
eccentric chivalry which on occasion led him into trouble. The blaze
further touched the face of a young English lad sitting in a corner of
the room.

"Some of us were sent here for our sins, and some came for our health
when the temperature of our birthplaces grew a trifle high," he said. "I
don't know that anybody except Rancher Ormesby ever rode with us for
pleasure. Yet I'm open to admit the life has its compensations; and
Sergeant Mackay has given me many as good a run as I ever had with--that
is, I mean any man who must earn his bread might well find work he would
take less kindly to."

The lad's momentary embarrassment was not lost on his officer, who
chuckled somewhat dryly as he glanced at him. "I'm asking no questions,
an' ye are not called on to testify against yourself," he said. "Maybe
ye rode fox-hunting on a hundred-guinea horse, an' maybe ye did not; but
ye showed a bit knowledge o' a beast, an' that was enough for me.
Meantime ye're Trooper Cotton, an' I'll see ye do your duty. To some,
the old country--God bless her--is a hard stepmother, an' ye're no' the
first she has turned the cold shoulder on and sent out to me."

The worthy sergeant was apt to grow tiresome when he launched out into
his reminiscences, and, seeing that Trooper Cotton did not appreciate
the turn the conversation was taking, I broke in: "But you're forgetting
the outlaw, Mackay; and I'm not here for either health or pleasure. I
want to recover the mare I gave five hundred dollars for, and that ought
to excuse my company. What has the fellow who borrowed her done?"

"Fired on a mortgage money-lender down in Assiniboia," was the answer.
"Maybe he was badly treated, for ye'll mind that the man who takes blood
money, as yon Lane has done, is first cousin to Judas Iscariot; but
that's no' my business. It is not allowable to shoot one's creditors in
the Canadian Dominion. What I'm wondering is where he is now; an' that
will be either striking north for the barrens or west for British
Columbia. It will be boot and saddle when Pete comes in, and meantime
we'll consider what routes would best fit him!"

Mackay knew every bluff and ravine seaming a hundred miles of prairie;
and another silent man, rising from his bunk, stood beside myself and
Cotton as the sergeant traced lines across the table. Each represented
an alternative route the fugitive might take, and the places where the
hard forefinger paused marked a risky ford or lake on which the ice was
yielding. Mackay spent some time over it, as much for his own
edification as for ours, but I was interested, for I greatly desired to
recover the blood mare stolen from me.

I was then five-and-twenty, fairly stalwart and tall of stature, and
seldom regretted that after a good education in England I had gone out
to Western Canada to assist a relative in raising cattle. The old man
was slow and cautious, but he taught me my business well before he died
suddenly and left me his possessions. Adding my small patrimony, I made
larger profits by taking heavier risks, and, for fortune had favored me,
and youth is no handicap in the Colonies, my homestead was one of the
finest in that section of the country. Save for occasional risks of
frost-bite and wild rides through blinding snow, the life had been
toilsome rather than eventful; but the day which, while we talked in the
outpost, was speeding westward across the pines of Quebec and the lakes
of Ontario to gild the Rockies' peaks was to mark a turning-point in my
history.

Suddenly a beat of hoofs rose out of the night, there was a jingle
outside, and the cold set me shivering, when a man, who held a smoking
horse's bridle, stood by the open door. "Your man tried to buy a horse
from the reservation Crees, and, when they wouldn't trade, doubled on
his tracks, heading west for the Bitter Lakes. I've nearly killed my
beast to bring you word," he said.

Horses stood ready in the sod stable behind the dwelling, and in less
than three minutes we were in the saddle and flitting in single file
across the prairie. It was about five o'clock in the morning, and,
though winter should have been over, it was very bitter. The steam from
the horses hung about us, our breath froze on our furs, but a Chinook
wind had swept the prairie clear of snow, and, though in the barer
places the ground rang like iron beneath us, the carpet of matted
grasses made moderately fast traveling possible. No word was spoken,
and, when the silent figures about me faded as they spread out to left
and right and only a faint jingle of steel or dull thud of hoofs
betokened their presence, I seemed to have ridden out of all touch with
warmth and life.

The frost bit keen, the heavens were black with the presage of coming
storm, and the utter silence seemed the hush of death. Beast and bird
had long fled south, and I started when once the ghostly howl of a
coyote rose eerily and faintly from the rim of the prairie.

By daylight we had left long leagues behind us, and I was the better
pleased that the fugitive's trail, of which we found signs, led back
towards my own homestead. For a brief five minutes the Rockies, seen
very far off across the levels, flushed crimson against the sky. Then
the line of spectral peaks faded suddenly, and we were left, four tiny
crawling specks, in the center of a limitless gray circle whose
circumference receded steadily as the hours went by. But the trail grew
plainer to the sergeant's practiced eyes, and, when we had crossed the
Bitter Lakes on rotten and but partially refrozen ice, he predicted that
we should come up with the fugitive by nightfall if our horses held out.
Mine was the best in the party, and, though not equal to the stolen
mare, the latter had already traveled fast and far. It was a depressing
journey. No ray of sunlight touched the widespread levels, and there was
neither smoke trail nor sign of human life in all that great desolation.
Hands and feet lost sense of feeling, the cold numbed one's very brain;
but the wardens of the prairie, used alike to sleep in a snow trench or
swim an icy ford, care little for adverse weather, and Mackay held on
with a slow tenacity that boded ill for the man he was pursuing.

The light showed signs of failing when Trooper Cotton shouted, and we
caught sight of our quarry, a shadowy blur on the crest of a low rise
that seamed the prairie. "Ye may save your breath, for ye'll need it,"
said Mackay. "It's a league from yon rise to the Sweetwater, an' there's
neither ice-bridge nor safe ford now. If he's across before we are we'll
no' grip him the night, I'm thinking--and there's ill weather brewing."

Whip and heel were plied, and the worn-out beasts responded as best they
might. The man who had taught me stock and horse breeding knew his
business, and when my beast raced across the edge of the rise the
troopers were at least two hundred yards behind. Then the exultation of
the chase took hold of me, and my frozen blood commenced to stir as the
staunch beast beneath me swept faster and faster down the long gray
incline. At every stride I was coming up with the horse thief. A dusky
ridge of birches loomed ahead, shutting off the steep dip to the river.
Beyond this, there were thicker trees; and the light was failing; but
while all this promised safety for the pursued, I was gaining fast and
the troopers were dropping further behind. The fugitive had just reached
the timber when a light wagon lurched out from it, and I yelled to the
man who drove it to hold clear of my path. There was a hoarse shout away
to the left, and, when no answer came back, the crack of a carbine. A
repeating rifle banged against my back, and, feeling that its sling lay
within easy reach, I drove my heels home as I raced past the wagon.

There was scarcely time for a side glance, but the one I risked set my
heart beating. Two feminine figures wrapped in furs sat within it, and
one smiled at me as I passed. The face that looked out from beneath the
fur cap was worth remembering, though it was several years since I had
last seen it in England. Haldane had brought his daughters with him when
he came out from Montreal to visit his Western possessions, it seemed;
but my horse was over the brink of the declivity before I could return
the greeting, and, bending low to clear the branches, I drove him
reeling and blundering down and down through willow undergrowth and
scattered birches on the track of the fugitive. I was but a plain
rancher, and it seemed presumptuous folly to neglect my lawful business
for a smile from Beatrice Haldane.

It was growing dark among the birches, and flakes of feathery snow
sliding down between the branches filled my eyes, but I could see that
the distance between us was shortening more rapidly and that the man in
front of me reeled in his saddle when a branch smote him. The mare also
stumbled, and I gained several lengths. The drumming of hoofs and the
moan of an icy wind which had sprung up seemed to fill all the hollow.
White mist that slid athwart the birches hung over the Sweetwater in the
rift beneath, and--for the river had lately burst its chains of ice--I
felt sure that the man I followed would never make the crossing. Yet it
appeared certain that he meant to attempt it, for he rode straight at
the screen of willows that fringed the water's edge, vanished among
them, and I heard a crackling as his weary beast smashed through the
shoreward fringe of honeycombed ice. Then I saw nothing, for rattling
branches closed about me as the horse feebly launched himself at the
leap, while a denser whiteness thickened the mist. So far fortune had
favored me throughout the reckless ride; but it is not wise to tempt
fate too hardly, and the beast pitched forward when his hoofs descended
upon bare frozen ground.

Had I worn boots my neck might have paid the penalty, but the soft
moccasins slipped free of the stirrups in time, and when I came down the
horse rolled over several yards clear of me. He was up next moment, but
moved stiffly, and stood still, trembling, when I grasped the bridle.
The saddle had slipped sideways, as though a girth buckle had yielded,
and I felt faint and dizzy, for the fall had shaken me. Nevertheless, I
unslung the rifle mechanically, when a hail reached me, and, turning, I
saw the man we had followed sitting still in his saddle, some twoscore
yards away, with the steam frothing white to his horse's knees. The
daylight had almost gone, the snow was commencing in earnest, but I
could make out that he was bareheaded and his face smeared with crimson,
perhaps from a wound the branch had made. It looked drawn and ghastly as
he sat stiffly erect against a background of hurrying water and falling
snow, with one hand on his hip and the other raised as though to command
attention.

"You are Rancher Ormesby, whose horse I borrowed, I presume?" he said.
"Well, if you are wise you will give up the chase before worse befalls
you. I am armed, and I give you fair warning that I do not mean to be
taken. Go home to your stove and comforts. You have no quarrel with me."

The clean English accent surprised me, and the rifle lay still in the
hollow of my left arm as I answered him: "Do you forget you are sitting
on the best mare I possess? The loss of several hundred dollars is more
than I can put up with; and your warning sounds rather empty when I
could hardly fail to pick you off with this rifle."

I listened for the troopers' coming, but could hear only the fret of the
river and the moaning of the blast, for the wind was rising rapidly. It
was evident that the beast whose bridle I held was in no fit state to
attempt the crossing, and yet, though the stranger's cool assurance was
exasperating, I began to be conscious of a certain admiration and pity
for him. The man was fearless. He had been hunted like a wolf; and now,
left, worn out, wounded, and doubtless faint from want of food, to face
the wild night in the open, he had, it seemed, risked his last chance of
escape to warn me when he might have taken me at a disadvantage.

He laughed recklessly. "Still, I hardly think you will. The mare is
done, and I pledge my word I'll turn her loose as soon as I'm clear of
the troopers. I have no grudge against you, but if you are wise you will
take no further chances with a desperate man. Go home, and be thankful
you have a place to shelter you."

There would have been no great difficulty in bringing the man down at
that range, even in a bad light, and it is probable that nobody would
have blamed me; but, though I should willingly have ridden him down in
fair chase, I could not fire on him as he sat there at my mercy, for if
he was armed it must have been with a pistol--a very poor weapon against
a rifle. I might also have shot the horse; but one hesitates to
sacrifice a costly beast, even in the service of the State, and, strange
to say, I felt inclined to trust his promise. Accordingly, I did
neither; and when a great ice cake came driving down, and, raising his
hand again as though in recognition of my forbearance, he wheeled the
mare and vanished into a thicker rush of snow, I stood motionless and
let him go. Then, feeling more shaken and dizzy than before, I seized
the bridle and led the horse into the whirling whiteness that drove down
the slope. Darkness came suddenly. I could scarcely see the trees, and
it was by accident I stumbled upon the troopers dismounted and picking
their way.

"Have ye seen him?" asked an object which looked like a polar bear and
proved to be the sergeant.

"Yes," I answered shortly, deciding that it would not be well to fully
explain how I had let our quarry slip through my fingers. "If he has not
drowned himself in the river he has got away. I was close upon him when
my horse fell and threw me badly. Are you going to try the crossing,
too?"

There are few bolder riders than the Northwest troopers, but Mackay
shook his head. "I'm thinking it would be a useless waste of Government
property an' maybe of a trooper's life," he said. "No man could find him
in this snow, and if he lives through the night, which is doubtful,
we'll find his trail plain in the morning. We'll just seek shelter with
Haldane at Bonaventure."

I do not know how we managed to find the Bonaventure ranch. The wind had
suddenly freshened almost to a gale, and, once clear of the river
hollow, we met the full force of it. The snow that whirled across the
desolate waste filled our eyes and nostrils, rendering breathing
difficult and sight almost impossible; but it may be that the instinct
of the horses helped us, for, making no effort at guidance, I trudged
on, clinging to the bridle of my limping beast, while half-seen
spectral objects floundered through the white haze on each side.
Nevertheless, the pain which followed the impact of the flakes on one
side of my half-frozen face showed that we were at least progressing in
a constant direction, and at last Trooper Cotton raised a hoarse halloo
as a faint ray of light pierced the obscurity. Then shadowy buildings
loomed ahead, and, blundering up against a wire fence, we staggered,
whitened all over, to the door of Bonaventure.

It was flung wide open at our knock, banged to again, and while a
trooper went off with the horses to the stable the rest of us, partly
stupefied by the change of temperature, stood in the lamp-lit hall
shaking the white flakes from us. A man of middle age, attired in a
fashion more common in the cities than in the West, stretched out his
hand to me.

"I am glad to see you, Ormesby; and, of course, you and your companions
will spend the night here," he said cordially. "My girls told me they
had met you, and we were partly expecting your company. Apparently the
malefactor got away, Sergeant Mackay?"

"We did not bring him with us, but he'll not win far this weather," was
the somewhat rueful answer. The master of Bonaventure smiled a little.

"He deserves to escape if he can live through such a night; and I'm
inclined to be sorry for the poor devil," he said. "However, you have
barely time to get into dry things before supper will be ready. We
expect you all to join us, prairie fashion."

The welcome was characteristic of Carson Haldane, who could win the
goodwill of most men, either on the prairie or in the exclusive circles
of Ottawa and Montreal. It was also characteristic that he called the
evening meal, as we did, supper; though when he was present a state of
luxury, wholly unusual on the prairie, reigned at Bonaventure.




CHAPTER II

BONAVENTURE RANCH


"We are waiting for you," said Haldane, smiling, as he stood in the
doorway of the room where, with some misgivings, and by the aid of
borrowed sundries, we had made the best toilets we could. "You are not a
stranger, Ormesby, and must help to see your comrades made comfortable.
Sergeant, my younger daughter is enthusiastic about the prairie, and you
will have a busy time if you answer all her questions, though I fear she
will be disappointed to discover that nobody has ever scalped you."

Mackay drew himself up stiffly, as if for his inspection parade, and a
white streak on his forehead showed the graze a bullet had made. Young
Cotton smiled wryly as he glanced at his uniform, for it was probably
under very different auspices he had last appeared in the society of
ladies; and I was uneasily conscious of the fact that the black leather
tunic which a German teamster had given me was much more comfortable
than becoming. I might have felt even more dissatisfied had I known that
my fall had badly split the tunic up the back. That, however, did not
account for the curious mingling of hesitation and expectancy with which
I followed our host.

During a brief visit to England some years ago I had met Miss Haldane at
the house of a relative, and the memory had haunted me during long
winter evenings spent in dreamy meditation beside the twinkling stove
and in many a lonely camp when the stars shone down on the waste of
whitened grass through the blue transparency of the summer night. The
interval had been a time of strenuous effort with me, but through all
the stress and struggle, in stinging snowdrift and blinding dust of
alkali, I had never lost the remembrance of the maiden who whiled away
the sunny afternoons with me under the English elms. Indeed, the
recollection of the serene, delicately cut face and the wealth of dusky
hair grew sharper as the months went by, until it became an abstract
type of all that was desirable in womanhood, rather than a prosaic
reality. Now I was to meet its owner once more in the concrete flesh. It
may have been merely a young man's fancy, born of a life bare of
romance, but I think that idealization was good for me.

Haldane held a door open, saying something that I did not catch; but
young Cotton, whose bronzed color deepened for a moment, made a courtly
bow, and the big grizzled sergeant smiled at me across the table as he
took his place beside a laughing girl, while I presently found myself
drawing a chair back for Beatrice Haldane, who showed genuine pleasure
as she greeted me. Her beauty had increased during the long interval.
The clustering dark hair and the dark eyes were those I remembered well,
and if her face was a trifle colorless and cold I did not notice it. She
had grown a little more full in outline and more stately in bearing, but
the quiet graciousness which had so impressed me still remained.

"It is a long time since we met, and you have changed since then," she
said pleasantly. "When you raced past our wagon I hardly recognized you.
That, however, was perhaps only to be expected; but one might wonder
whether you have changed otherwise, too. I recollect you were
refreshingly sanguine when I last saw you."

This was gratifying. That I should have treasured the remembrance of
Beatrice Haldane was only natural; but it was very pleasant to hear from
her own lips that she had not forgotten me. Her intention was doubtless
kindly, and it was inherited courtesy, for Haldane did most things
graciously.

"The light was dim, and this life sets its stamp on most of us," I said.
"May one compliment you on your powers of memory? Needless to say, I
recognized you the moment I saw you."

Miss Haldane smiled a little. "A good memory is useful; but do you wish
me to return the compliment?"

"No," and I looked at her steadily. "But there is a difference. In your
world men and events follow each other in kaleidoscopic succession, and
each change of the combinations must dim the memory of the rest. With us
it is different. You will see how we live--but, no; I hardly think you
will--for Bonaventure is not a typical homestead, and the control of it
can be only a pastime with your father."

"And yet it is said that whatever Carson Haldane touches yields him
dividends; but proceed," interposed Miss Haldane.

"With us each day is spent in hurried labor; and it is probably well
that it is, for otherwise the loneliness and monotony might overpower
any man with leisure to brood and think. Heat, frost, and fatigue are
our lot; and an interlude resembling the one in which I met you means,
as a glimpse of a wholly different life, so much to us. We dream of it
long afterwards, and wonder if ever the enchanted gates will open to us
again. Now, please don't smile. This is really not exaggeration!"

"Which gates? You are not precise," said my companion, and laughed
pleasantly when, smiling, too, I answered, "One might almost say--of
Paradise!"

"It must be the Moslem's paradise, then," she said. "Still, I hardly
fancy a stalwart prairie rancher would pose well as the Peri, and, by
way of consolation, you can remember that there are disappointments
within those gates, and those who have acquired knowledge beyond them
sometimes envy the illusions of those without. No, you have not changed
much in some respects, Mr. Ormesby. You must talk to my sister
Lucille--she will agree with you."

Her manner was very gracious, in spite of the badinage; but there was a
faint trace of weariness and sardonic humor in her merriment which
chilled me. The dark-haired girl I remembered had displayed a power of
sympathy and quick enthusiasm which had apparently vanished from my
present companion.

"I am curious to hear if you have verified the optimistic views you once
professed," she added languidly.

I laughed a little dryly. Being younger then, and led on by a very
winsome maiden's interest, I had talked with perhaps a little less than
becoming modesty of the possibilities open to a resolute man in the new
lands of the West, and laid it down as an axiom that determination was a
sure password to success.

"You should be merciful. That was in my callow days," I said.
"Nevertheless, with a few more reservations, I believe it is possible
for those who can hope and hold on to realize their ambition in this
country, whether it be the evolution of a prosperous homestead from a
strip of Government land and a sod hovel--or more desirable things. The
belief is excusable, because one may see the proof of it almost every
day. I even fancied, when in England, that you agreed with me."

There was a faint mischievous sparkle in Miss Haldane's eyes, but she
answered with becoming gravity: "Wisdom, as you seem to intimate, comes
with age, and it is allowable to change one's opinions. Now it seems to
me that all things happen, more often against our will than as the
result of it, when the invisible powers behind us decree. For instance,
who could have anticipated yesterday that we two should meet to-night at
table, or who could say whether this assembly, brought about by a
blizzard, may not be the first scene of either a tragedy or a comedy?"

I was more at home when Haldane turned the conversation upon practical
matters, such as wheat and cattle, than when discussing abstract
possibilities; but I afterwards remembered that my fair companion's
speech was prophetic, and, as I glanced about, it struck me that there
were dramatic possibilities in the situation. We were a strangely
assorted company, and to one who had spent eight years in the wilderness
the surroundings were striking. Tall wax candles in silver standards,
flickering a little when the impact of the snow-laden gale shook the
lonely dwelling, lighted the table. The rest of the long room was
wrapped in shadow, save when the blaze from the great open hearth flung
forth its uncertain radiance. The light flashed upon cut glass and
polished silver, and forced up against the dusky background the faces of
those who sat together.

Carson Haldane, owner of Bonaventure, which he occasionally visited, sat
at the head of the table, a clean-shaven, dark-haired man of little more
than middle age, whose slightly ascetic appearance concealed a very
genial disposition. He was a man of mark, a daring speculator in mills
and lands and mines, and supposed to be singularly successful. Why he
bought Bonaventure ranch, or what he meant to do with it, nobody seemed
to know; but he acted in accordance with the customs of the place in
which he found himself, and because the distinctions of caste and wealth
are not greatly recognized on the prairie there was nothing incongruous
in his present company. Sergeant Mackay--lean, bronzed, and saturnine
when the humor seized him--now bent his grizzled head with keen gray
eyes that twinkled as he chatted to the fresh-faced girl in the simple
dress beside him. I knew this was Lucille Haldane, but had hardly
glanced at her. Cotton had evidently forgotten that he was a police
trooper, and, when he could, broke in with some boyish jest or English
story told in a different idiom from that which he generally adopted. He
seemed unconscious that he was recklessly betraying himself.

"You must not turn my daughter's head with your reminiscences, Sergeant.
She is inclined to be over-romantic already," Haldane said, with a
kindly glance at the girl. "Possibly, however, one may excuse her
to-night, for you gentlemen live the stories she delights in. By the
way, I do not quite understand how you allowed the evildoer to escape,
Ormesby."

Being forced to an explanation, I described the scene by the river as
best I could, looking at the sergeant a trifle defiantly until, at the
conclusion, he said: "I cannot compliment ye, Rancher Ormesby."

I was about to retort, when a clear young voice, with a trace of
mischief in its tone, asked: "What would you have done had you been
there, and why were you so far behind, Sergeant?"

"We do not ride pedigree horses," said Mackay, a trifle grimly. "I
should have shot his beast, an' so made sure of him in the first place."

Then there was a sudden silence, when the girl, who turned upon him with
a gesture of indignation, said: "It would have been cruel, and I am glad
he got away. I saw his face when he passed us, and it was so drawn and
haggard that I can hardly forget it; but it was not that of a bad man.
What crime had he committed that he should be hunted so pitilessly?"

Young Cotton colored almost guiltily under his tan as the girl's
indignant gaze fell upon him, and for the first time I glanced at her
with interest. She was by no means to be compared with her sister, but
she had a brave young face, slightly flushed with carmine and relieved
by bright eyes that now shone with pity. In contrast to Beatrice's dark
tresses the light of the candles called up bronze-gold gleams in her
hair, and her eyes were hazel, while the voice had a vibration in it
that seemed to awaken an answering thrill. Lucille Haldane reminded me
of what her sister had been, but there was a difference. Slighter in
physique, she was characterized by a suggestion of nervous energy
instead of Beatrice's queenly serenity. The latter moved her shoulders
almost imperceptibly, but I fancied the movement expressed subdued
impatience, and her face a slightly contemptuous apology, while her
father laughed a little.

"You must be careful, Sergeant. My younger daughter is mistress of
Bonaventure, and rules us all somewhat autocratically; but, as far as I
can gather, your perceptions were tolerably correct in this instance,
Lucille," he said. "The man fell into the grip of the usurer, who, as
usual, drained his blood; but, while what he did may have been ethical
justice, he broke the laws of this country, and perhaps hardly deserves
your sympathy."

"No?" said Lucille Haldane, and her eyes glistened. "I wish you had not
told us what took place at the river, Mr. Ormesby. Here we sit, warm and
sheltered, while that man, who has, perhaps, suffered so much already,
wanders, hungry, faint, and bleeding, through this awful cold and snow.
Just listen a moment!"

In the brief silence that followed I could hear the windows rattle under
the impact of the driving snow and the eerie scream of the blast. I
shivered a little, having more than once barely escaped with my life
when caught far from shelter under such conditions, and it was borne in
upon me that the outlaw might well be summoned before a higher tribunal
than an earthly court by morning.

It was Beatrice Haldane, who, with, I noticed, a warning glance at her
sister, turned the conversation into a more cheerful channel, and I was
well content when some time later she took her place near me beside the
hearth, while Lucille opened the piano at her father's request. Possibly
neither her voice nor her execution might have pleased a critic; but as
a break in our monotonous daily drudgery the music enchanted us, and the
grizzled sergeant straightened himself very erect, while a steely glint
came into his eyes as, perhaps to atone for her speech at dinner, the
girl sang, with fire and pathos, a Jacobite ballad of his own country.
Its effect may have been enhanced by the novelty; but there was a power
in Lucille Haldane which is held only by the innocent in spirit whose
generous enthusiasms are still unblunted, and it seemed to me that the
words and chords rang alternately with a deathless devotion and the
clank of the clansmen's steel.

"I cannot thank ye. It was just grand," said Mackay, shaken into unusual
eloquence, when the girl turned and half-shyly asked if he liked the
song, though, as the soft candle light touched it, her face was slightly
flushed. "Ye made one see them--the poor lads with the claymores, who
came out of the mist with a faith that was not bought with silver to die
for their king. Loyal? Oh, ay! starving, ill-led, unpaid, they were
loyal to the death! There's a pattern for ye, Trooper Cotton, who, if
ye'll mind what he tells ye, will hold Her Majesty's commission some day
when Sergeant Mackay's gone. Ye'll excuse me, Miss Haldane, but the
music made me speak."

I noticed that Trooper Cotton seemed to flinch a moment at the mention
of a commission, as though it recalled unpleasant memories, and that the
worthy sergeant appeared slightly ashamed of his outbreak, while
Beatrice Haldane showed a quiet amusement at his Caledonian weakness for
improving the occasion. Lucille, however, smiled at him again. "I think
that is the prettiest compliment I have ever had paid my poor singing,"
she said naïvely. "But I have done my duty. I wonder if you would sing
if we asked you, Mr. Cotton?"

"Lucille is at an impressionable age," Beatrice Haldane said to me.
"Later she may find much that she now delights in obsolete and
old-fashioned. We have grown very materialistic in these modern days."

"God forbid!" I answered. "And I think the sergeant could tell you true
stories of modern loyalty."

"For instance?" and I answered doggedly. "You can find instances for
yourself if you try to see beneath the surface. There are some very
plain men on this prairie who could furnish them, I think. Did you ever
hear of Rancher Dane, who stripped himself of all his possessions to
advance the career of a now popular singer? She married another man when
fame came to her, and it is said he knew she would never be more than a
friend to him from the beginning."

"I have," and the speaker's eyes rested on me with a faint and yet
kindly twinkle in them. "He was a very foolish person, although it is
refreshing to hear of such men. Even if disappointment follow
consummation, aspiration is good for one. It is more blessed to give
than to receive, you know."

Here, to the astonishment of his superior officer, Cotton, who played
his own accompaniment, broke into song, and he not only sang passably
well, but made a special effort to do his best, I think; while I
remember reflecting, as I glanced at the lad in uniform and the rich
man's daughter, who sat close by, watching him, how strange all this
would have seemed to anyone unused to the customs of the prairie. Ours,
however, is a new land, wide enough to take in not only the upright and
the strong of hand, but the broken in spirit and the outcast whom the
older country thrusts outside her gates; and, much more often than one
might expect, convert them into sturdy citizens. The past history of any
man is no concern of ours. He begins afresh on his merits, and by right
of bold enterprise or industry meets as an equal whatever substitute for
the older world's dignitaries may be found among us. How it is one
cannot tell, but the brand of servitude, with the coarseness or cringing
it engenders, fades from sight on the broad prairie.

Beatrice Haldane presently bade me go talk to her sister, and though I
did so somewhat reluctantly, the girl interested me. I do not remember
all we said, and probably it would not justify the effort to recall it;
but she was pleasantly vivacious of speech, and genuinely interested in
the answers to her numerous questions. At length, however, she asked,
with a half-nervous laugh: "Did you ever feel, Mr. Ormesby, that
somebody you could not see was watching you?"

"No," I answered lightly. "In my case it would not be worth while for
anybody to do so, you see." And Lucille Haldane first blushed prettily
and then shivered, for no apparent reason.

"It must be a fancy, but I--felt--that somebody was crouching outside
there in the snow. Perhaps it is because the thought of that hunted man
troubles me still," said she.

"He would never venture near the house, but rather try to find shelter
in the depths of the ravine--however, to reassure you. I wonder whether
it is snowing as hard as ever, Sergeant," I said, turning towards Mackay
as I concluded.

The casements were double and sunk in a recess of the thick log walls,
over which red curtains were not wholly drawn. I flung one behind my
shoulder, and when the heavy folds shut out the light inside I could see
for some little distance the ghostly glimmer of the snow. Then,
returning to my companion, I said quietly: "There is nobody outside,
and I should have seen footprints if there had been."

Presently the two girls withdrew to attend to some household duties, and
Haldane, who handed a cigar box around, said to me: "Did you do well
last season, Ormesby, and what are your ideas concerning the prospects
down here?"

"I was partly fortunate and partly the reverse," I answered. "As perhaps
you heard, I put less into stock and sowed grain largely. It is my
opinion that, as has happened elsewhere, the plow furrows will presently
displace many of the unfenced cattle-runs. It is hardly wise to put all
one's eggs into the same basket; but my plowing was not wholly
successful, sir."

"It is a long way to Laurentian tide-water, and, assisted by Winnipeg
mills, the Manitoba men would beat you," said Haldane, with a shrewd
glance at me.

"For the East they certainly would, sir," I answered. "But I see no
reason why, if we get the promised railroad, we should not have our own
mills; and we lie near the gates of a good market in British Columbia."

Haldane nodded approval, and I was gratified. He was not a practical
farmer, but it was said that he rarely made a mistake concerning the
financial aspect of any industrial enterprise.

"You may be right. I wish I had taken in the next ranch when I bought
Bonaventure. But, from what I gather, you have extended your operations
somewhat rapidly. Is it permissible to ask how you managed in respect to
capital?"

The speaker's tone was friendly, and I did not resent the question. "I
borrowed on interest, sir; after three good seasons I paid off one loan,
and, seeing an opportunity, borrowed again. As it happened, I lost a
number of my stock; but this year should leave me with much more
plowland broken and liabilities considerably reduced."

"You borrowed from a bank?" asked Haldane, and looked a little graver
when I answered, "No."

It was, as transpired later, a great pity he spoke again before I told
him where I had obtained the money; but fate would have it so.

"I have grown gray at the game you are commencing; but, unless you have
a gift for it, it is a dangerous one, and the facilities for obtaining
credit are the bane of this country," he said. "I don't wish to check
any man's enterprise, but I knew the man who started you, and promised
him in his last sickness to keep an eye on you. Take it as an axiom that
if you can't get an honest partner you should deal only with the banks.
Otherwise the mortgage speculator comes uppermost in the end. He'll
carry you over, almost against your wishes, when times are good, but
when a few adverse seasons run in succession, he will take you by the
throat when you least expect it. Your neighbors are panic-stricken;
nobody with money will look at your property, and the blood-sucker
seizes his opportunity."

"But if he sold one up under such circumstances he could not recover his
loan, much less charges and interest," I interposed; and Haldane
laughed.

"A man of the class I'm describing would not wish to recover in that
way. He is not short of money, and knows bad seasons don't last forever,
so he sells off your property for, say, half its value, recovers most of
what he lent, and still--remember the oppressive interest--holds you
fast for the balance. He also puts up a dummy to buy the place--at
depression value--pays a foreman to run it, and when times improve sells
the property on which you spent the borrowed money for twice as much."

Haldane nodded to emphasize his remarks as he leaned forward towards me.
"The man you were hunting was handled in a similar fashion, and it
naturally made him savage. We are neighbors, Ormesby, and if ever you
don't quite see your way out of a difficulty you might do worse than
consult me."

He moved towards the others when I thanked him, and left me slightly
troubled. I knew his offer was genuine, but being obstinately proud,
there were reasons why he would be the last man I should care to ask for
assistance in a difficulty. That I should ever have anything worth
offering Beatrice Haldane appeared at one time a chimerical fancy; but
though her father's words left their impression, I had made some
progress along the road to prosperity. Ever since the brief days I spent
in her company in England a vague purpose had been growing into definite
shape; but that night I had discovered, with a shock, that if the
difference in wealth between us had been lessened, she was far removed
by experience, as well as culture, from a plain stock-raiser.




CHAPTER III

A MIDNIGHT VISITOR


The snow had thinned a little, though it still blew hard, when, before
retiring, I borrowed a lantern and made a dash for the stable. The horse
which had fallen was a valuable one, and, remembering how stiffly he had
moved, I was anxious about him. Winter should have been over, and this
was its last effort, but the cold struck through me, and I knew by the
depth of the snow that a horse would be a useless incumbrance to the
fugitive, who could not have made a league in any direction. He was
probably hiding in the ravine, and it appeared certain that he would be
captured on the morrow. I was therefore the less surprised when the
stolen mare shuffled towards me. The man had at least kept his promise
to release her when useless; but I was still slightly puzzled as to how
the beast had found her own way to Bonaventure. This meant work for me,
and I spent some time in the long, sod-protected building, which was
redolent of peppermint in the prairie hay, before returning to the
dwelling. My moccasins made no sound as I came softly through the hall,
but it was not my fault that, when I halted to turn out and hang up the
lantern, voices reached me through an open door.

"You are in charge here, and will see that the lamps and stoves are
safe, Lucille," one of them said. "What did you think about our guests?"

"I liked them immensely; the sergeant was simply splendid," answered
another voice. "The young trooper was very nice, too. I did not see much
of Mr. Ormesby. He talked a good deal to you."

There was no mistaking Beatrice Haldane's rippling laugh. "Rancher
Ormesby is amusing for a change. One grows to long for something
original after the stereotyped products of the cities. Contact with
primitive men and fashions acts, for a time, as a tonic, although too
much of it might serve as, say, an emetic."

It was a pity it had not occurred to me to rattle the lantern earlier,
for though women do not always mean what they say, this last observation
was not particularly gratifying. Neither was it quite what I had
expected from Beatrice Haldane. Whether the fair speaker guessed that
she had been overheard or not, I never knew; but because a ripple of
subdued laughter reached me as a door swung to, I surmised that her
sister had found cause for merriment. Tired as I was, I did not feel
immediately disposed for sleep, and, as Haldane had bidden us do just
what best pleased us, I looked into the troopers' quarters and found
Mackay and one of his subordinates, who had preferred to spend the
evening with the hired hands, asleep, and Cotton cleaning his carbine.

"We'll be off before daybreak, and I had not a chance earlier. I would
not have missed a minute of this evening for promotion to-morrow. Of
course, I'll pay for it later; but that's the usual rule, and partly why
I'm serving the nation as Trooper Cotton now," he said, with a mirthless
smile.

"You are getting as bad as the sergeant," I answered impatiently. "Come
along when you have finished, if you're not overtired, and we'll smoke
one of our host's cigars together. He left the box for us beside the big
hearth in the hall."

"I'll be there in ten minutes. Mackay's so confoundedly particular about
the arms," said Cotton.

The fire was burning redly in the hall, though the lamps were out, when
I ensconced myself in a deep chair behind a deerhide screen quaintly
embroidered by Indian women. The cigar was a good one, and I had much to
think about; so it was not until a shaft of light streamed athwart the
screen that, looking round it, I noticed that Lucille Haldane, carrying
a candle, had entered the long room. She set it down on a table, and
stood still, glancing about her, while I effaced myself behind the
screen. The girl had cast her hair loose, and it rippled in glossy
masses from her shoulders to the delicate inward curve of her waist,
setting forth the lithe shapeliness of her figure. Concluding that she
would withdraw as soon as she was satisfied that all was safe, I decided
it would be better if she remained unaware of my presence, and hoped
that Cotton would delay his coming. To judge by the soft footsteps, she
was returning, when a sudden coldness chilled the room. The light grew
uncertain, as though the candle flickered in a draught, and a door I had
not previously noticed opened noiselessly.

Wondering what this might mean, I sat very still, and then stared
blankly, as a snow-whitened object came softly into the room. For a few
seconds I could almost have fancied it was a supernatural visitant
rather than a creature of flesh and blood, for the man's face was
ghastly, and he brought the chill of the grave with him. He was
bareheaded, his cheeks ashy gray, and clotted brown patches streaked the
rag bound round his forehead, while the snow was in his hair; but as he
moved forward I had no difficulty in recognizing him. I heard Lucille
Haldane draw in her breath with a gasp, and it was that which roused me
to action, but the intruder broke the silence first.

"Please don't cry out. You are perfectly safe--and my life is in your
hands," he said.

"Not exactly!" I broke in, and, flinging the screen sideways, stepped
between him and the girl. The stranger's hand dropped instinctively to
the holster at his waist, then he let it fall to his side.

"You here, Rancher Ormesby! I freed your horse, and you have no further
cause for hunting me down," he said, with a composure which astonished
me. "I am sorry to alarm you, Miss Haldane, but it was the truth I told
you. I will not be taken, and it rests with you either to call the
troopers or to turn me out to freeze in the snow."

In spite of his terrifying appearance, it was clear that the man was not
a ruffian. He spoke with deference, and his voice betrayed consideration
for the girl; and again a sense of compassion came upon me. Still,
there was my host's daughter to consider, and I turned towards her.

"Will you go away and leave him to me?" I said.

Lucille Haldane, glancing from one of us to the other, shook her head;
and I think we must have formed a striking tableau as we stood where the
candle-light flickered athwart one small portion of the long shadowy
room. The girl's face was pale, but a sudden wave of color swept across
it when, with a sinuous movement of her neck, she flung back the
lustrous masses of her hair. She was dressed as I had last seen her,
except that the lace collar was missing, and her full white throat
gleamed like ivory. Yet, though her voice trembled a little, she showed
small sign of fear.

"Will you tell me how you came here?" she asked, and as the question
applied to either, we both answered it.

"I have been here some little time, and feared to surprise you; but am
very glad it happened so," I said, and the stranger followed me.

"Rancher Ormesby is unjustified in his inference. I came in by the
ante-room window. Earlier in the evening I lay outside in the lee of the
building watching you, and I felt that I might risk trusting you, so I
waited for an opportunity. I knew the troopers were here; but I was
freezing in the snow, and I wondered whether, out of charity, you would
give me a little food and let me hide in an outbuilding until the
blizzard blows over?"

Lucille Haldane's fear, if it ever lasted more than a moment, had
vanished, and her eyes glistened with womanly pity, for the man's
strength was clearly spent; but she drew herself up a little. "What have
you done to come to this?" said she.

"I am afraid I should tire you, and somebody might surprise us, before I
told you half," he answered logically. "You must take my word that all I
did was to resist by force the last effort of an extortioner to complete
my ruin. He lent me money, and after I had paid it back nearly twice
over he tried to seize the little that remained between me and
destitution. There was a fracas and he was shot--though the wound was
only trifling."

I believed the terse story, and saw that Lucille Haldane did also. Then
I grew anxious lest Cotton should come in before she had made her
decision. "There is not a minute to lose. Your father at least should
know. Had you not better tell him while I stay here?" I said.

"I don't think so. He has told me that I am mistress at Bonaventure, and
I might rouse the troopers in calling him," the girl answered steadily,
turning from me to the intruder. "I think I can believe you, and you
will find sleigh-robes in the harness-room at the end of the long
stable. Slip up the ladder and crawl in among the hay. The sergeant
would never suspect your presence there."

"And Rancher Ormesby?" asked the other, with a glance at me.

"Will accept the mistress of Bonaventure's decision," I answered dryly.
"But I am expecting one of the troopers, and you are risking your
liberty every second you stay."

"He is starving," said Lucille Haldane. "There is brandy in that
sideboard, Mr. Ormesby, and I can find cold food in the kitchen.
Ah!----"

I had forgotten, while I strained my ears, that Cotton's moccasins would
give no warning as he came down the passage, and I hurried forward, at
the girl's exclamation, a second too late to bolt the door. He came in
before I reached it, and halted at sight of the outlaw, gripping the
edge of the table as suddenly as though struck by a bullet. He was a lad
of spirit, and I saw there was some special cause for his consternation,
and that he was also apparently oblivious of the presence of two of the
party.

"Good Lord! Is it you, Boone, we have been chasing all day?" he said.

I seized a chair-back and measured the distance between myself and the
fugitive as I noticed the venomous pistol glint in his hand. But he
lowered the muzzle when he saw Cotton clearly, and, with a glance in
Miss Haldane's direction, let the weapon fall out of sight behind his
thigh.

"It is," he answered steadily. "What in heaven's name brought--you--to
Canada, Charlie Cotton, and thrust you in my way? It was in a very
different character from your present one that I last saw you."

Both apparently forgot the spectators in their mutual surprise, though
Lucille Haldane stared at them wide-eyed, which was small wonder,
considering that she was a romantic girl forced for the first time to
play a part in what threatened to prove an unpleasantly realistic
tragedy. It was hardly possible for her not to guess that these two had
been friends in very different circumstances.

Cotton leaned heavily on the table, and, I fancied, groaned; then
straightened himself and answered in a strained voice that sounded very
bitter: "It would be useless to return the compliment, though the
contrast is more marked in your case. I didn't see your face, and the
name on our warrant suggested nothing. This is Her Majesty's uniform, at
least--though I would give ten years' pay if it weren't. Can't you see
that I'm Trooper Cotton, and must skulk away a deserter unless I arrest
you?"

"There does not seem to be much choice," Boone said grimly. "Heaven
knows how little there is to attract any man in the life I have been
leading; but there is one good cause why I should not be Quixotic enough
to give myself up to oblige you. No! Stand back, Charlie Cotton--I don't
want to hurt you."

The pistol barrel glinted as it rose into sight again, and, though no
one had spoken in more than a hoarse whisper before, a heavy silence
settled upon the room, through which I thought I could hear the girl
catch at her breath. I stood between her and the two men, but I was at
my wits' end as to what should be done. By this time my sympathies were
enlisted on the side of the unfortunate rancher; but the girl's presence
complicated the affair. It seemed imperative that she should be safely
out of the way before either an alarm was given or a struggle ensued.
Yet she had refused to vacate the position, and I realized that she
meant it. Meantime, Cotton's face was a study of indecision and disgust.
The lad was brave enough, but it seemed as though the mental struggle
had partly crippled his physical faculties. With a gesture of dismay he
turned suddenly to me.

"It's a horrible combination, Ormesby. Of course, I can't tell anybody
all, but I knew this man well, and was indebted to him in the old
country. Now he has somehow broken the laws of the Dominion, and I'm
bound by my oath of service to arrest him. There is no other course
possible. Boone, I can't help it. Will you surrender quietly?"

"No!" was the answer. "My liberty is precious because I have work to do.
Move or call out at your peril, Charlie!"

The climax was evidently approaching, and still I could do nothing for
fear of jeopardizing Lucille Haldane's safety if I precipitated it. The
young lad, unarmed as he was, stiffened himself as for a spring, and I
wondered whether I could reach his opponent's pistol arm with the
chair-leg in time when the trooper moved or shouted. Then, because
feminine wits are often quicker than our own, I saw the girl's eyes were
fixed on me, as, unnoticed by the others, she pointed towards the
candle. Another second passed before I understood her; then, for the
light stood on the corner of the table nearest me, I swept one arm out,
and there was sudden darkness as I hurled it sideways across the room.
The door into the main passage swung to, and Cotton fell over something
as he groped his way towards it, while, though strung up in a state of
tension, I smiled, hearing--what he did not--somebody brush through the
other door, which it was evident had escaped his notice.

Next, feeling that the girl was mistress of the position, I stirred the
sinking fire until a faint brightness shone out from the hearth. It just
sufficed to reveal Lucille Haldane standing with her back to the door
the fugitive had not passed through. This quick-witted maneuver
sufficed to deceive the bewildered representative of the law. "You
cannot pass, Trooper Cotton," she said.

The lad positively groaned. "Do you know that you are disgracing me
forever, Miss Haldane?" he said, in a hoarse appeal. "You must let me
pass!"

The girl resolutely shook her head, and the dying light showed me her
slender fingers tightly clenched on the handle of the door. "I will see
that you do not suffer; but I am mistress of this house, and I think you
are an English gentleman, Trooper Cotton," she said.

Then, with an air of desperation, the lad turned to me. "Won't you try
to persuade her, Ormesby?"

"No," I said dryly. "I am Miss Haldane's guest, and not a police
officer. I am sorry for you, Cotton, but you have done your best, and
even if you forget your own traditions I'll certainly see you show her
due respect. It is not your fault that I have twice your strength, but
it will be if, while Miss Haldane remains here, you summon your comrades
by a shout."

"Confound you! You never thought----" he broke out; but, ceasing
abruptly, he left the sentence incomplete; and, feeling that there were
two sides to the question, I stood aside while he commenced a circuit of
the room, which he might have done earlier. Still, Lucille Haldane did
not move, for each moment gained might be valuable, until, with an
ejaculation, he discovered and sprang through the other door. Then,
hurrying to her side, I laid my hand reassuringly on the girl's arm and
found she was trembling like a leaf as I drew the door open.

"You must not lose a moment, and I think you should tell your father;
but you can trust me to manage Cotton and keep what has passed a
secret," I said.

There was a faint "Thank you"; while hardly had she flitted down the
passage than a shout rang out, and hurrying as for my life, I found
Cotton pounding on the inner door of the ante-room. Noticing that the
window was shut, I seized his shoulder and gripped it hard. "Pull
yourself together, and remember, that whatever tale you tell, Miss
Haldane does not figure in it," I said. "A horse would be no use to
him; but I'll make sure by a run to the stable while you acquaint the
sergeant."

It was still snowing, and the drifts were deep, but I managed to plunge
my feet into the hollows left by somebody who had preceded me, and there
was a bottle of brandy in my pocket. I returned, floundering as heavily
as possible along my outward tracks--for one learns a good deal when
trailing wandering steers or stalking antelope--and met Cotton, who now
carried his carbine. It was evident that he was bent on discharging his
duty thoroughly, for when I announced that no horses were missing, he
answered shortly: "Thanks; but I'm going myself to see. Mackay and Mr.
Haldane are waiting for you."

I smiled to myself. Trooper Cotton had acquired small proficiency in the
art of tracking, and I knew that my footprints would not only deceive
him, but that, following them, he would obliterate evidence that might
have been conclusive to the sergeant's practiced eyes. All the male
inmates of Bonaventure had gathered, half-dressed, in the hall, and
Sergeant Mackay, who was asking questions, turned to me. "Ye were here
when he came in, Rancher Ormesby?"

"I was," I answered. "I didn't hear him until he was in the room; but he
seemed starving, and presumably ran the risk in the hope of obtaining
food."

"Why did ye not seize him or raise the alarm?" asked the sergeant; and I
shrugged my shoulders.

"I was wholly unarmed, and he is a desperate man with a pistol. You may
remember mentioning that his capture was not my business."

"I mind that I have seen ye take as heavy risks when, for a five-dollar
wager, ye drove a loaded sledge over the rotten ice," said the sergeant,
with a searching glance at me. "While ye did nothing Trooper Cotton came
in to help ye?"

"Just so! He had no weapon either, but appeared quite willing to face
the outlaw's pistol, when the candle went out, and the man must have
slipped out by the second door in the dark. I made for the stables at
once, but all the horses were safe. My own, I discovered earlier, had
come back by itself."

"Ye showed little sense," said Mackay; while Haldane glanced curiously
at me. "What would he do with a horse in two foot of snow? There are
points I'm no' clear about; but there'll be time for questions later.
Ah! Found ye anything, Trooper Cotton?"

"No," said the lad. "Nothing but the footprints made by Ormesby; and I
can only presume that, there being no lee on that side, the wind would
fill the horse-thief's track with snow. He would never risk trying the
outbuildings when he knew that we were here."

"No," was the sergeant's answer. "He'll be for the ravine. We'll take
our leave, Mr. Haldane, with thanks for your hospitality, leaving the
horses in the meantime. It is a regret to me we have brought this
disturbance upon ye."

Two minutes later the police had vanished into the snow, and in another
ten Bonaventure was almost silent again. I went back to my couch and
slept soundly, being too wearied to wonder whether I had done well or
ill. Next morning Haldane called me into a room of his own.

"My daughter has told me what took place last night, and while, in one
sense, I'm indebted to you, Ormesby, I really can't decide whether you
showed a lamentable lack of judgment in abetting her," he said. "She is
a brave little soul, but does not always spare time to think. Frankly, I
wish this thing had not come about as it did."

He spoke seriously, but there was a kindliness in his eyes, and it was
easy to see that Carson Haldane's younger daughter was his idol, which
slightly puzzled me. There were those who heaped abuse upon his head,
and it is possible his financial operations did not benefit everybody,
for when men grow rich by speculation somebody must lose. There are,
however, many sides to every nature, and I always found him an upright,
kindly gentleman, while only those who knew him best could guess that he
was faithful to a memory, and that the gracious influence of one he had
lost still swayed him.

"I am sorry if I acted indiscreetly, sir; but I could think of no other
course at the time," I said. "Do you know where the man is now?"

"It is sometimes unwise to ask questions, and I have not inquired too
closely," and Haldane laid his hand on my shoulder. "It must be our
secret, Ormesby, and I should prefer that Miss Haldane did not share it;
this--I suppose one must call it an escapade--might trouble her. I
presume you could rely on that lad's discretion. He was evidently not
brought up for a police trooper."

"I think you could depend on him, sir; and, as you know, a good many
others in this country follow vocations they were never intended for."

"Well, we will say no more on that subject," he answered. "The doctors
tell me I have been working under too great a strain, and as they
recommend quiet and relaxation, I decided to try six months' practical
ranching. My partner will no doubt arrange that other folks pay the
bill; but this is hardly a peaceful beginning."

Haldane laughed before he added, significantly: "In one respect I'm duly
grateful, Ormesby, and--in confidence--here is a proof of it. You are
staking high on the future of this region. Well, the railroad will be
built, which will naturally make a great difference in the value of
adjacent land. You will, however, remember that, in accordance with
medical advice, I am now ranching for my health."

I remembered it was said that Carson Haldane could anticipate long
before anybody else what the powers at Ottawa would sanction or veto,
and that a hint from him was valuable. "It is good news, and I presume
that Bonaventure will have extended its boundaries by the time you
recover, sir," I said.

That evening Sergeant Mackay returned to requisition provisions, and
departed again. He was alone, and very much disgusted, having no news of
the fugitive. He did not revisit Bonaventure during the next day I
remained there, and presumably the man he sought slipped away when the
coast was clear. Perhaps the fact that the whirling drifts would
obliterate his tracks had deceived the sergeant, and we supposed the
contrabandists who dealt in prohibited liquor had smuggled him across
the American frontier. The night before I took my leave Beatrice Haldane
looked across at her sister, who sat sewing near the stove, and then at
me.

"Since you recovered your horse I am not altogether sorry the hunted man
got away," she said. "There are, however, two things about the affair
which puzzle me--how the candlestick my sister carried when she made the
rounds reached the table in the hall where it is never left; and why I
should find the candle it contained under the sideboard in the room the
intruder entered! Can you suggest any solution, Mr. Ormesby?"

I felt uncomfortable, knowing that Beatrice Haldane was not only clever
herself, but the daughter of a very shrewd man, while her eyes were
fixed steadily on me. Lucille's head bent lower over her sewing, and,
though I would have given much to answer frankly, I felt that she
trusted me. So I said, as indifferently as I could: "There might be
several, and the correct one very simple. Somebody must have knocked the
candlestick over in his hurry and forgotten about it. Have you been
studying detective literature latterly?"

Beatrice Haldane said nothing further; but I realized that I had
incurred her displeasure, and was not greatly comforted by the grateful
glance her sister flashed at me.




CHAPTER IV

THE TIGHTENING OF THE NET


It was a hot morning of early summer when I rode up the low rise to my
house at Gaspard's Trail. A few willows straggled behind one side of it,
but otherwise it rose unsheltered from the wind-swept plain, which,
after a transitory flush of greenness, had grown dusty white again. I
had been in the saddle since sunrise, when the dewy freshness had
infused cheerfulness and vigor into my blood, but now it was with a
feeling of dejection I reined in my horse and sat still, looking about
me.

The air was as clear as crystal, so that the birches far off on the
western horizon cut sharply against the blue. All around the rest of the
circle ran an almost unbroken sweep of white and gray, streaked in one
place by the dust of alkali rolling up from a strip of bitter water,
which flashed like polished steel. Long plow-furrows stretched across
the foreground, but even these had been baked by pitiless sunshine to
the same monotony of color, and it was well I had not sown the whole of
them, for sparse, sickly blades rose in the wake of the harrows where
tall wheat should have been. Behind these stood the square log dwelling
and straggling outbuildings of logs and sod, all of a depressing
ugliness, while two shapeless yellow mounds, blazing under the sunshine,
represented the strawpile granaries. There was no touch of verdure in
all the picture, for it had been a dry season, which boded ill for me.

Presently a horse and a rider, whose uniform was whitened by the fibrous
dust, swung out of a shallow ravine--or _coulée_, as we called them--and
Trooper Cotton cantered towards me. "Hotter than ever, and I suppose
that accounts for your downcast appearance," he said. "I've never seen
weather like it. Even the gophers are dead."

"It grows sickening; but you are wrong in one respect," I answered
ruefully. "All the gophers in the country have collected around my grain
and wells. As they fall in after every hearty meal of wheat, we have
been drinking them. You are just in time for breakfast, and I'll be glad
of your company. One overlooks a good deal when things are going well,
but the sordid monotony of these surroundings palls on one now and
then."

"You are not the only man who feels it," said the trooper, while a
temporary shadow crossed his face. "You have been to Bonaventure too
often, Ormesby. Of course, it's delightful to get into touch with things
one has almost forgotten, but I don't know that it's wise for a poor
man, which is, perhaps, why I allowed Haldane to take me in last night.
You, however, hardly come into the same category."

"I shall soon, unless there's a change in the weather," I answered with
a frown. "But come in, and tell me what Haldane--or his daughters--said
to you."

"I didn't see much of Miss Haldane," said Cotton, as we rode on
together. "Of course, she's the embodiment of all a woman of that kind
should be; but I can't help feeling it's a hospitable duty when she
talks to me. You see I've forgotten most of the little I used to know,
and she is, with all respect, uncomfortably superior to an average
individual."

I was not pleased with Trooper Cotton, but did not tell him so.
"Presumably you find Miss Lucille understands you better?" I answered,
with a trace of ill-humor.

The lad looked straight at me. "I'm not responsible for the weather,
Ormesby," he said, a trifle stiffly. "Still, since you have put it so,
it's my opinion that Miss Lucille Haldane would understand anybody. She
has the gift of making you feel it also. To change the subject, however,
I was over warning Bryan about his fireguard furrows, and yours hardly
seem in accordance with the order."

I laughed, and said nothing further until a man in a big straw hat
appeared in the doorway. "Who's that?" asked Cotton, drawing his bridle.

"Foster Lane," I answered. "He came over yesterday."

"Ah!" said the trooper, pulling out his watch. "On reflection, perhaps I
had better not come in. I am due at the Cree reserve by ten, and, as my
horse is a little lame, I don't want to press him. This time you will
excuse me."

His excuse was certainly lame, as I could see little the matter with the
horse; and, being short of temper that morning, I answered sharply: "I
won't press you; but is it a coincidence that you remember this only
when you recognize Lane?"

Trooper Cotton, who was frank by nature and a poor diplomatist, looked
uneasy. "I don't want to offend you, Ormesby, but one must draw the line
somewhere, and I will not sit down with that man," he said. "I know he's
your guest, but you would not let me back out gracefully, and, if it's
not impertinent, I'll add that I'm sorry he is."

"I congratulate you on being able to draw lines, but just now I myself
cannot afford to be particular," I answered dryly; and when, with a
feeble apology, Cotton rode away, it cost me an effort to greet the
other man civilly.

As breakfast was ready, he took his place at the table, and glanced at
me whimsically. Foster Lane was neither very prepossessing nor
distinctly the reverse in appearance. He was stout, and somewhat flabby
in face, with straw-colored hair and a thick-lipped mouth; but while his
little eyes had a humorous twinkle, there was a suggestion of force as
well as cunning about him. He was of middle age, and besides
representing a so-styled "development company" was, by profession, land
agent, farmers' financier, and mortgage jobber, and, as naturally
follows, a usurer.

"Say, I'm not deaf yet, Ormesby," he commenced, with coarse good-humor.
"Particular kind of trooper that one, isn't he? Is he another broken-up
British baronet's youngest son, or--because they only raise his kind in
the old country--what has the fellow done?"

"He's a friend of mine," I answered. "I never inquired of him. Still,
I'm sorry you overheard him."

"That's all right," was the answer. "My hide is a pretty thick one; and
one needs such a protection in my business. Give a dog a bad name and
you may as well hang him, Rancher Ormesby, although I flatter myself I'm
a necessity in a new country. How many struggling ranchers would go
under in a dry season but for my assistance; and how many fertile acres
now growing the finest wheat would lie waste but for me? Yet, when I ask
enough to live on, in return, every loafer without energy or foresight
abuses me. It's a very ungrateful world, Ormesby."

Lane chuckled as he wiped his greasy forehead, and paused before he
continued: "I've been thinking all night about carrying over the loan
you mentioned, and though money's scarce just now, this is my
suggestion. I'll let you have three-fourths of its present appraised
value on Crane Valley, and you can then clear Gaspard's Trail, and
handle a working balance. I'd sooner do that than carry over--see?"

I set down my coffee cup because I did not see. I had expected he would
have exacted increased interest on the loan due for repayment, and
interest in Western Canada is always very high; but it seemed curious
that he should wish to change one mortgage for another. It also struck
me that if, in case I failed to make repayment, Crane Valley would be
valuable to him, it should be worth at least as much to me.

"That would not suit me," I said.

"No?" and Lane spoke slowly, rather as one asking a question than with a
hint of menace. "Feel more like letting me foreclose on you?"

"You could not do that, because I should pay you off," I said. "I could
do it, though there's no use denying that it would cripple me just now.
As of course you know, whatever I could realize on at present, when
everybody is short of money and trade at a standstill, should bring
twice as much next season. That is why I wish the loan to run on."

"Well!" And Lane helped himself before he answered. "In that case, I'll
have to tax you an extra ten per cent. It seems high, but no bank would
look at encumbered property or a half-developed place like Crane Valley.
Take it, or leave it, at six months' date. That would give you time to
sell your fat stock and realize on your harvest."

I fancied there was a covert sneer in the last words, because I had
faint hope of any harvest, and answered accordingly. "It seems
extortionate, but even so, should pay me better than sacrificing now."

"Money's scarce," said Lane suavely. "I'm going on to Lawrence's, and
will send you in the papers. Lend me as good a horse as you have for a
day or two."

I did not like the man's tone, and the request was too much like an
order; but I made no further comment; though a load seemed lifted from
me when he rode away, and I started with my foreman to haul home prairie
hay. It was fiercely hot, and thick dust rolled about our light wagon,
while each low rise, cut off as it were from the bare levels, floated
against the horizon. The glare tired one's vision, and, half-closing my
aching eyes, I sank into a reverie. For eight long years I had toiled
late and early, taxing the strength of mind and body to the utmost. I
had also prospered, and lured on by a dream, first dreamed in England, I
grew more ambitious, breaking new land and extending my herds with
borrowed capital. That had also paid me until a bad season came, and
when both grain and cattle failed, Lane became a menace to my
prosperity. It was a bare life I and my foreman lived, for every dollar
hardly won was entrusted in some shape to the kindly earth again, and no
cent wasted on comforts, much less luxuries; but I had seldom time to
miss either of them, and it was not until Haldane brought his daughters
to Bonaventure that I saw what a man with means and leisure might make
of his life. Then came the reaction, and there were days when I grew
sick of the drudgery and heavy physical strain; but still, spurred on
alternately by hope and fear, I relaxed no effort.

Now, artificial grasses are seldom sown on the prairie where usually the
natural product grows only a few inches high, and as building logs are
scarce, implements are often kept just where they last were used. It was
therefore necessary to seek hay worth cutting in a dried-out slough, or
swamp, and next to find the mower, which might lie anywhere within a
radius of four miles or so. We came upon them both together, the mower
lying on its side, red with rust, amid a stretch of waist-high grass.
The latter was harsh and wiry, heavy-scented with wild peppermint, and
made ready for us by the sun.

There were, however, preliminary difficulties, and I had worked myself
into a state of exasperation before the rusty machine could be induced
to run. After a vigorous hammering and the reckless use of oil the pair
of horses were at last just able to haul it, groaning vehemently,
through the dried-up swamp. I was stripped almost to the skin by this
time, the dust that rose in clouds turned to mire upon my dripping
cheeks and about my eyes, while bloodthirsty winged creatures hovered
round my head.

"This," said Foreman Thorn, as he wiped the red specks from his face and
hands, "is going to be a great country. We can raise the finest insects
on the wide earth already. The last time I was down to Traverse a man
came along from somewhere with a gospel tent, and from what he said
there wasn't much chance for anyone to raise cattle. He'd socked it to
us tolerable for half-an-hour at least, when Tompson's Charlie gets up
and asks him: 'Did you ever break half-thawn sod with oxen?' 'No, my
man; but this interruption is unseemly,' says he. 'It's not a
conundrum,' says Charlie. 'Did you ever sleep in a mosquito muskeg or
cut hay in a dried-out slough?' and the preacher seeing we all wanted an
answer, shakes his head. 'Then you start in and try, and find out that
there are times when a man must talk or bust, before you worry us,' says
Charlie. But who's coming along now?"

I had been too busy to pay much attention to the narrative or to notice
a rattle of wheels, and I looked up only when a wagon was drawn up
beside the slough. A smooth-shaven man, with something familiar about
his face, sat on the driving-seat smiling down at me.

"Good-morning, Rancher Ormesby. Wanting any little pictures of yourself
to send home to friends in the old country?" he said, pointing to what
looked like the lens of a camera projecting through the canvas behind
him. "I'll take you for half-a-dollar, as you are, if you'll give me the
right to sell enlargements as a prairie study."

The accent was hardly what one might have expected from one of the
traveling adventurers who at intervals wandered across the country, and
I looked at the speaker with a puzzled air. "I have no time to spare for
fooling, and don't generally parade half-naked before either the public
or my civilized friends," I said.

"Some people look best that way," answered the other, regarding me
critically; whereupon Thorn turned round and grinned. "The team and tall
grass would make an effective background. Stand by inside there, Edmond.
It's really not a bad model of a bare throat and torso, and as I don't
know that your face is the best of you, the profile with a shadow on it
would do--just so! Say, I wonder did you know those old canvas overalls
drawn in by the leggings are picturesque and become you? There--I'm much
obliged to you."

A faint click roused me from the state of motionless astonishment his
sheer impudence produced, and when I strode forward Thorn's grin of
amusement changed to one of expectancy. "You don't want any
hair-restorer, apparently, though I've some of the best in the Dominion
at a dollar the bottle; but I could give you a salve for the
complexion," continued the traveler, and I stopped suddenly when about
to demand the destruction of the negative or demolish his camera.

"Good heavens, Boone! Is it you; and what is the meaning of this
mummery?" I asked, staring at him more amazed than ever.

"Just now I'm called Adams, if you please," said the other, holding out
his hand. "I hadn't an opportunity for thanking you for your forbearance
when we met at Bonaventure, but I shall not readily forget it. This is
not exactly mummery. It provides me with a living, and suits my purpose.
I could not resist the temptation of trying to discover whether you
recognized me, or whether I was playing my part artistically."

"Are you not taking a big risk, and why don't you exploit a safer
district?" I asked; and the man smiled as he answered: "I don't think
there's a settler around here who would betray me even if he guessed my
identity, and the troopers never got a good look at me. I live two or
three hundred miles east, you see, and the loss of a beard and mustache
alters any man's appearance considerably. I also have a little business
down this way. Have you seen anything of Foster Lane during the last
week or two?"

"Yes," I said. "He has just ridden over from my place to Lawrence's, in
Crane Valley."

"You have land there, too," said Boone, as though aware of it already;
and when I nodded, added: "Then if you are wise you will see that devil
does not get his claws on it. I presume you are not above taking a hint
from me?"

I looked straight at him. "I know very little of you except that there
is a warrant out for your arrest, and I am not addicted to taking advice
from strangers."

Boone returned my gaze steadily without resentment, and I had time to
take note of him. He was a tall, spare, sinewy man, deeply bronzed like
most of us; but now that he had, as it were, cast off all pertaining to
the traveling pedlar, there was an indefinite something in his speech
and manner which could hardly have been acquired on the prairie. He did
not look much over thirty, but his forehead was seamed, and from other
signs one might have fancied he was a man with a painful history. Then
he flicked the dust off his jean garments with the whip, and laughed a
little.

"I am an Englishman, Rancher Ormesby, and, needless to say, so are you.
We are not a superfluously civil people, and certain national
characteristics betray you. I fancy we shall be better acquainted, and,
that being so, feel prompted to tell you a story which, after what
passed at Bonaventure, you perhaps have a right to know. You will stop a
while for lunch, anyway, and if you have no objections I will take mine
along with you."

I could see no reasonable objection to this, and presently we sat
together under the wagon for the sake of coolness, while, when the mower
ceased its rattle, the dust once more settled down upon the slough. It
was almost too hot to eat; there was no breath of wind, and the glare of
the sun-scorched prairie grew blinding.

"I should not wonder if you took most kindly to indirect advice, and
there is a moral to this story," said Boone, when I lit my pipe. "Some
years ago a disappointed man, who knew a little about land and horses,
came out from the old country to farm on the prairie, bringing with him
a woman used hitherto to the smoother side of life. He saw it was a good
land and took hold with energy, believing the luck had turned at last,
while the woman helped him gallantly. For a time all went well with
them, but the loneliness and hardship proved too much for the woman,
whose strength was of the spirit and not of the body, and she commenced
to droop and pine. She made no complaint, but her eyes lost their
brightness, and she grew worn and thin, while the man grew troubled. She
had already given up very much for him. He saw his neighbors prospering
on borrowed capital, and, for the times were good, determined to risk
sowing a double acreage. That meant comfort instead of privation if all
went well, and, toiling late and early, he sowed hope for a brighter
future along with the grain. So far it is not an uncommon story."

I nodded, when the speaker, pausing, stared somberly towards the
horizon, for since that English visit I also had staked all I hoped for
in the future on the chances of the seasons.

"The luck went against him," the narrator continued. "Harvest frost,
drought, and summer hail followed in succession, and when the borrowed
money melted the man who held the mortgage foreclosed. He was within his
rights in this, but he went further, for while there were men in that
district who would, out of kindliness or as a speculation, have bought
up the settler's possessions at fair prices, the usurer had his grasp
also on them, and when a hint was sent them they did nothing. Therefore
the auction was a fraud and robbery, and all was bought up by a
confederate for much less than its value. There was enough to pay the
loan off--although the interest had almost done so already--but not
enough to meet the iniquitous additions; and the farmer went out ruined
on to Government land with a few head of stock a richer man he had once
done a service to gave him; but the woman sickened in the sod hovel he
built. There was no doctor within a hundred miles, and the farmer had
scarcely a dollar to buy her necessaries. Even then the usurer had not
done with him. He entered proceedings to claim the few head of cattle
for balance of the twice-paid debt. The farmer could not defend himself;
somebody took money for willful perjury to evade a clause of the
homestead exemptions, and the usurer got his order. The woman lay very
ill when he came with a band of desperadoes to seize the cattle. They
threatened violence; a fracas followed, and the farmer's hands were, for
once, unsteady on the rifle he did not mean to use, for when a drunken
cowboy would have ransacked his dwelling the trigger yielded
prematurely, and the usurer was carried off with a bullet through his
leg. The woman died, and was buried on a lonely rise of the prairie; and
the man rode out with hatred in his heart and a price upon his head. You
should know the rest of the story--but the sequel is to follow. It was
not without an effort or a motive I told it you."

I stretched out my hand impulsively towards the speaker. "It is
appreciated. I need not ask one name, but the other----"

"Is Foster Lane; and in due time he shall pay in full for all."

Boone's voice, which had grown a trifle husky, sank with the last words
to a deeper tone, and the sinewy right hand he raised for a moment fell
heavily, tight-clenched, upon his knee. He said nothing further for a
while, but I felt that if ever the day of reckoning came one might be
sorry for Foster Lane.

Presently he shrugged his shoulders and rose abruptly. "I have a case of
pomade to sell the Swedes over yonder, and if my luck is good, some
photographs to take," he said, resuming his former manner. "I presume
you wouldn't care to decorate your house with tin-framed oleographs of
German manufacture. I have a selection, all of the usual ugliness.
Whatever happens, one must eat, you know. Well, Lane's gone into Crane
Valley, and it happens I'm going that way, too. This, I hope, is the
beginning of an acquaintance, Ormesby."

He sold Thorn a bottle of some infallible elixir before he climbed into
his tented wagon, and left me troubled as he jolted away across the
prairie. One thing, however, I was resolved upon, and that was to pay
off Foster Lane at the earliest opportunity. By parting with my best
stock at a heavy sacrifice it seemed just possible to accomplish it.




CHAPTER V

A SURPRISE PARTY


Except when the snow lies deep one has scanty leisure on the prairie,
and when Adams departed Thorn and I hurriedly recommenced our task. We
had lost time to make up, and vied with each other; for I had discovered
that, even in a country where all work hard, much more is done for the
master who can work himself. Pitching heavy trusses into a wagon is not
child's play at that temperature, but just then the exertion brought
relief, and I was almost sorry when Thorn went off with the lurching
vehicle, leaving me to the mower and my thoughts. The latter were not
overpleasant just then. Still, the machine needed attention, and the
horses needed both restraint and encouragement, for at times they seemed
disposed to lie down, and at others, maddened by the insects, inclined
to kick the rusty implement into fragments, and I grew hoarse with
shouting, while the perspiration dripped from me.

It was towards six o'clock, and the slanting sunrays beat pitilessly
into my face, which was thick with fibrous grime, when, with Thorn
lagging behind, I tramped stiffly beside the wagon towards my house. My
blue shirt was rent in places; the frayed jean jacket, being minus its
buttons, refused to meet across it; and nobody new to the prairie would
have taken me for the owner of such a homestead as Gaspard's Trail.
Thick dust, through which mounted figures flitted, rolled about the
dwelling, and a confused bellowing mingled with the human shouts that
rose from behind the long outbuildings.

"It's Henderson's boys bringing shipping stock along. Somebody's been
squeezing him for money or he wouldn't sell at present," said Thorn, who
rejoined me. "They'll camp here to-night and clean up the larder. I
guess most everybody knows how Henderson feeds them."

There are disadvantages attached to the prairie custom of free
hospitality, and I surmised that Henderson's stock riders might have
pushed on to the next homestead if they had not known that we kept a
good table at Gaspard's Trail. Nevertheless, I was thankful that no
stranger need ever leave my homestead hungry, and only wondered whether
my cook's comments would be unduly sulphurous. When I reached the
wire-fenced corral, which was filled with circling cattle and an
intolerable dust, a horseman flung his hand up in salute.

"We're bound for the Indian Spring Bottom with an H triangle draft," he
said. "The grass is just frizzled on the Blackfeet run, and we figured
we'd camp right here with you to-night."

"That's all right; but couldn't you have fetched Carson's by dusk
without breaking anybody's neck; and yonder beasts aren't branded
triangle H," I said.

The horseman laughed silently in prairie fashion. "Well, we might and we
mightn't; but Carson's a close man, and I've no great use for stale
flapjacks and glucose drips. No, sir, I'm not greedy, and we'll just let
Carson keep them for himself. Those beasts marked dash circle are the
best of the lot. Lane's put the screw on Redmond, and forced him to
part. Redmond's down on his luck. He's crawling round here somewhere,
cussing Lane tremendous."

"Lane seems to own all this country," I answered irritably. "Has he got
a hold on your master, too? I told him and Redmond I was saving that
strip of sweet prairie for myself."

"He will own all the country, if you bosses don't kick in time," was the
dry answer. "I don't know how ours is fixed, but he's mighty short in
temper, and you've no monopoly of unrecorded prairie. Say, it might save
your boys a journey if we took your stock along with us and gave them a
chance before this draft cleans all the sweet grass up. Redmond told me
to mention it."

The offer was opportune, and I accepted it; then hurried towards the
galvanized iron shed which served as summer quarters for the general
utility man who acted as cook. He was a genius at his business, though
he had learned it on board a sailing ship. He was using fiery language
as he banged his pans about. "It's a nice state of things when a
cattle-whacking loafer can walk right in and tell me what he wants for
his supper," he commenced. "General Jackson! it's bad enough when a
blame cowboy outfit comes down on one like the locusts and cleans
everything up, but it's worse just when I'm trying to fix a special
high-grade meal."

"I'm not particular. What is good enough for a cowboy is good enough for
a rancher any time," I said; and the cook, who was despotic master of
his own domain, jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of
the house. "Guess it mightn't be to-night. Get out, and give me a fair
show. You're blocking up the light."

I went on towards the house, wondering what he could mean, but halted on
the threshold of our common room, a moment too late. We had worked night
and day during spring and early summer, and the sparely-furnished room
was inches deep in dust. Guns, harness I had no time to mend, and
worn-out garments lay strewn about it, save where, in a futile attempt
to restore order, I had hurled a pile of sundries into one corner.
Neither was I in exactly a condition suitable for feminine society, and
Beatrice Haldane, who had by some means preserved her dainty white dress
immaculate, leaned back in an ox-hide chair regarding me with quiet
amusement. Her father lounged smoking in the window seat, and it was his
younger daughter who, when I was about to retreat, came forward and
mischievously greeted me.

"I believe you were ready to run away, Mr. Ormesby, and you really don't
seem as much pleased to see us as you ought to be," she said. "You know
you often asked us to visit you, so you have brought this surprise party
on your own head."

"I hope you will not suffer for your rashness, but you see those men out
there. They generally leave famine behind them when they come," I said.

The girl nodded. "They are splendid. I have been talking to them, and
made one sit still while I drew him. Please don't trouble about supper.
I have seen cookie, and he's going to make the very things I like."

Miss Haldane's eyebrows came down just a trifle, and I grew uneasy,
wondering whether it was the general state of chaos or my own appearance
which had displeased her; but Haldane laughed heartily before he broke
in: "Lucille is all Canadian. She has not been to Europe yet, and I am
not sure that I shall send her. She has examined the whole place
already, and decided that you must be a very----"

The girl's lips twitched with suppressed merriment, but she also
reddened a little; and I interposed: "A very busy man, was it not? Now
you must give me ten minutes in which to make myself presentable."

I was glad to escape, and, for reasons, withdrew sideways in crab
fashion, while what suspiciously resembled smothered laughter followed
me. By good luck, and after upsetting the contents of two bureaus upon
the floor, I was able to find garments preserved for an occasional visit
to the cities, and, flinging the window open, I hailed a man below to
bring me a big pail of water. He returned in ten minutes with a very
small one, and with the irate cook expostulating behind him, while I
feared his comments would be audible all over the building.

"Cook says the well's playing out, and washing's foolishness this
weather. The other pail's got dead gophers in it, and Jardine allows he
caught cookie fishing more of them out of the water he used for the
tea."

"Fling them out, and for heaven's sake let me have the thing. I'm
getting used to gophers, and dead ones can't bite you," I said, fearing
that if the indignant cook got to close quarters the precious fluid
might be spilled. Then while I completed my toilet Cotton came in.

"Perhaps I was hardly civil this morning," he commenced. "I'm out for
four days' fire-guard inspecting, and thought I'd come round and tell
you----"

"That you saw the Bonaventure wagon heading in this direction," I
interposed. "Well, you're always welcome at Gaspard's Trail, and I
presume you won't feel tempted to draw the line at my present guests."

Cotton dropped into my one sound chair. "I suppose I deserve it,
Ormesby. We shall not get such opportunities much longer, and one can't
help making the most of them," he said.

We went down together; and there was no doubt that the cook had done his
best, while Haldane laughed and his younger daughter looked very demure
when, as we sat down at table, I stared about my room. It had lost its
bare appearance, the thick dust had gone, and there was an air of
comfort about it I had never noticed before.

"You see what a woman's hand can do. Lucille couldn't resist the
temptation of straightening things for you," observed the owner of
Bonaventure. "She said the place resembled a----"

The girl blushed a little, and shook her head warningly at her father,
while, as she did so, her bright hair caught a shaft of light from the
window and shimmered like burnished gold. For a moment it struck me that
she equaled her sister in beauty; and she was wholly bewitching with the
mischief shining in her eyes. There was, however, a depth of kindliness
beneath the mischief, and I had seen the winsome face grow proud with a
high courage one night when the snows whirled about Bonaventure.
Nevertheless, I straightway forgot it when Beatrice Haldane set to work
among the teacups at the head of the table, for her presence
transfigured the room. I had often, as I sat there through the bitter
winter nights, pictured her taking a foremost place in some scene of
brightness in London or Montreal, but never presiding at my poor table
or handling my dilapidated crockery with her dainty fingers. She did it,
as she did everything, very graciously; while, to heighten the contrast,
the lowing of cattle and the hoarse shouts of those who drove them,
mingled with whipcracks and the groaning of jolting wagons, came in
through the open windows.

For a time the meal progressed satisfactorily. Haldane was excellent
company, and I had almost forgotten my fears that some untoward accident
might happen, when his younger daughter asked: "What is a gopher, Mr.
Cotton? I have heard of them, but never saw one."

I projected a foot in his direction under the table, regretting I had
discarded my working boots, and Haldane, dropping his fork, looked up
sharply.

"A little beast between a rat and a squirrel, which lives in a hole in
the ground. There are supposed to be more of them round Gaspard's Trail
than anywhere in Canada," answered the trooper, incautiously. "That's
quite correct, Ormesby. You cannot contradict me."

I did not answer, but grew uneasy, seeing that he could not take a hint;
and the girl continued: "Are they fond of swimming?"

"I don't think so," answered Cotton, with a slightly puzzled air; and
then added, with an infantile attempt at humor, for which I longed to
choke him: "I'm not a natural historian, but Ormesby ought to know. I
found him not long ago in a very bad temper fishing dozens of dead ones
out of his well. Perhaps they swam too long, and were too tired to climb
out, you know."

Lucille Haldane, who had been thirsty, gave a little gasp and laid her
hand on the cup Cotton would have passed on for replenishing. Her sister
glanced at her with some surprise, and then quietly set down her own,
while I grew hot all over and felt savagely satisfied by the way he
winced that this time I had got my heel well down on Cotton's toe. Then
there was an awkward silence until Haldane, leaning back in his chair,
laughed boisterously when the lad, attempting to retrieve one blunder,
committed another.

"I am afraid there are a good many at Bonaventure, and it is not
Ormesby's fault, you see. It is almost impossible for anybody to keep
them out of the wells in dry weather; but nobody minds a few gophers in
this country."

Haldane had saved the situation; but his elder daughter filled no more
teacups, and both my fair guests seemed to lose their appetite, while I
was almost glad when the meal I had longed might last all night was over
and Lucille and her father went out to inspect the cattle. I, however,
detained Cotton, who was following them with alacrity.

"Your jokes will lead you into trouble some day, and it's a pity you
couldn't have displayed your genius in any other direction," I said.

"You need not get so savage over a trifle," he answered apologetically.
"I really didn't mean to upset things--it was an inspiration. No man
with any taste could be held responsible for his answers when a girl
with eyes like hers cross-questions him. You really ought to cultivate a
better temper, Ormesby."

I let him go, and joined Beatrice Haldane, who had remained behind the
rest. She did not seem to care about horses and cattle, and appeared
grateful when I found her a snug resting-place beneath the strawpile
granary.

"You are to be complimented, since you have realized at least part of
your aspirations," she said, as she swept a glance round my possessions.
"Is it fair to ask, are you satisfied with--this?"

I followed her eyes with a certain thrill of pride. Wheat land, many of
the dusty cattle, broad stretch of prairie, barns, and buildings were
mine, and the sinewy statuesque horsemen, who came up across the levels
behind further bunches of dappled hide and tossing horns, moved at my
bidding. By physical strain and mental anxiety I had steadily extended
the boundaries of Gaspard's Trail, and, had I been free from Lane, would
in one respect have been almost satisfied. Then I looked up at my
companion, whose pale-tinted draperies and queenly head with its
clustering dark locks were outlined against the golden straw, and a
boldness, as well as a great longing, came upon me.

"It is a hard life, but a good one," I said. "There is no slackening of
anxiety and little time for rest, but the result is encouraging. When I
took hold, with a few hundred pounds capital, Gaspard's Trail was
sod-built and its acreage less than half what it is at present; but this
is only the beginning, and I am not content. Bad seasons do not last
forever, and in spite of obstacles I hope the extension will continue
until it is the largest holding on all this prairie; but even that
consummation will be valuable only as the means to an end."

Beatrice Haldane looked at me with perfect composure. "Is it all worth
while, and how long have you been so ambitious?" she asked, with a
smile, the meaning of which I could not fathom.

"Since a summer spent in England showed me possibilities undreamed of
before," I said; and while it is possible that the vibration in my voice
betrayed me, the listener's face remained a mask. Beatrice Haldane was
already a woman of experience.

"One might envy your singleness of purpose, but there are things which
neither success nor money can buy," she said. "Probably you have no time
to carefully analyze your motives, but it is not always wise to take too
much for granted. Even if you secured all you believe prosperity could
give you you might be disappointed. Wiser men have found themselves
mistaken, Rancher Ormesby."

"You are right in the first case," I answered. "But in regard to the
other, would not the effort be proof enough? Would any man spend the
best years of his life striving for what he did not want?"

"Some have spent the whole of it, which was perhaps better than having
the longer time for disappointment," answered the girl, with a curious
smile. "But are we not drifting, as we have done before, into a
profitless discussion of subjects neither of us knows much about?
Besides, the sun is swinging farther west and the glare hurts my eyes,
while father and Lucille appear interested yonder."

Beatrice Haldane always expressed herself quietly, but few men would
have ventured to disregard her implied wishes, and I took the hint,
fearing I had already said too much. Gaspard's Trail was not yet the
finest homestead on the prairie, and the time to speak had not arrived.
When we joined Haldane it was a somewhat stirring sight we looked upon.
A draft of my own cattle came up towards the corral at a run, mounted
men shouting as they cantered on each flank, while one, swinging a whip
twice, raced at a gallop around the mass of tossing horns when the herd
would have wheeled and broken away from the fence in a stampede. The
earth vibrated to the beat of hoofs; human yells and a tumultuous
bellowing came out of the dust; and I sighed with satisfaction when,
cleverly turned by a rider, who would have lost his life had his horse's
speed or his own nerve failed him, the beasts surged pell-mell into the
enclosure. Much as I regretted to part with them, their sale should set
me free of debt.

Then the flutter of a white dress caught my eye, and I saw Lucille
Haldane, who, it seemed, had already pressed the foreman into her
service, applauding when Thorn, cleverly roping a beast, reined in his
horse, and, jerking it to a standstill, held it for her inspection. It
no doubt pleased him to display his skill, but I saw it was with Thorn,
as it had been with the sergeant, a privilege to interest the girl. She
walked close up to the untamed creature, which, with heaving sides and
spume dripping from its nostrils, seemed to glare less angrily at her,
while Thorn appeared puzzled as he answered her rapid questions, and
Haldane leaned on the rails with his face curiously tender as he watched
her. Trooper Cotton, coming up, appropriated Miss Haldane with boyish
assurance, and her father turned to me.

"My girl has almost run me off my feet, and now that she has taken
possession of your foreman, I should be content to sit down to a quiet
smoke," he said. "Will you walk back to the house with me?"

I could only agree, but I stopped on the way to speak to one of the men
who had brought in the cattle. He was a struggling rancher, without
enterprise or ability, and generally spoken of with semi-contemptuous
pity. "I'm obliged to you, Redmond, for suggesting that you would take
my draft along; but why didn't you come in and take supper with the
rest? This sort of banquet strikes me as the reverse of neighborly," I
said.

The man fidgeted as he glanced at the dirty handkerchief containing
eatables beside him. "I figured you had quite enough without me, and I
don't feel in much humor for company just now," he said. "This season
has hit me mighty hard."

"Something more than the season has hit him," commented Haldane, as we
proceeded. "If ever I saw a weak man badly ashamed of himself, that was
one. You can't think of any underhand trick he might have played you
lately?"

"No," I answered lightly. "He is a harmless creature, and has no
possible reason for injuring me."

"Quite sure?" asked Haldane, with a glance over his shoulder as we
entered the door. "I've seen men of his kind grow venomous when driven
into a corner. However, it's cool and free from dust in here. Sit down
and try this tobacco."

Haldane was said to be a shrewd judge of his fellowmen, but I could see
no cause why Redmond should cherish a grudge against me, and knew he had
spoken the truth when he said the seasons had hit him hardly. It was
currently reported that he was heavily in debt, and the stock-rider had
suggested that Lane was pressing him. When Haldane had lighted a cigar
he took a roll of paper off the table and tossed it across to me,
saying, "Is that your work, Ormesby?"

"No. I never saw it before," I answered, when a glance showed me that
the paper contained a cleverly drawn map of our vicinity, and Haldane
nodded.

"To tell the truth, I hardly expected it was. Some of your recent
visitors must have dropped it, and as my daughter found it among the
litter during the course of her improvements, and asked whether it
should be preserved, I could not well help seeing what it was. Look at
the thing again, and tell me what you conclude from it."

"That whoever made it had a good eye for the most valuable locations in
this district," I answered, thoughtfully. "He has also shaded with the
same tint part of my possessions in Crane Valley."

"Exactly!" and Haldane gazed intently into the blue cigar smoke. "Does
it strike you that the man who made the map intended to acquire those
locations, and that, considering the possible route of the railway, he
showed a commendable judgment?"

"It certainly does so now," I answered; and Haldane favored me with a
searching glance. "Then when you discover who it is, keep your eyes on
him, and especially beware of giving him any hold on you."

I suspected that Lane had made the map, and it is a pity I did not take
Haldane into my full confidence; but misguided pride forbade it, and we
smoked in silence until the opportunity was lost, for he rose, saying:
"No peace for the wicked; the girls are returning. Great heavens! I
thought the child had broken her neck!"

While Thorn went round by the slip-rails, a slender, white-robed figure
on a big gray horse sailed over the tall fence and came up towards the
house at a gallop, followed by the startled foreman. Haldane, whose
unshakable calm was famous in Eastern markets, quivered nervously, and I
felt relieved that there had been no accident, for it was a daring leap.
Then, while Cotton and Beatrice Haldane followed, Lucille came in
flushed and exultant.

"We have had a delightful time, father, and you must leave me in charge
of Bonaventure when you go East," she said. "But where did you get the
lady's saddle, Mr. Ormesby?"

"It is not mine," I answered, smiling. "It belongs to my neighbor's
sister, Sally Steel. She rode a horse over here for Thorn to doctor."

I regretted the explanation too late. Steel was a good neighbor, but
common report stigmatized his sister as a reckless coquette, and by the
momentary contraction of Beatrice Haldane's forehead I feared that she
had heard the gossip. If this were so, however, she showed no other sign
of it.

When a delicious coolness preceded the dusk it was suggested that Cotton
should sing to us, and he did so, fingering an old banjo of mine with no
mean skill. I managed to find a place by Beatrice Haldane's side, and
when the pale moon came out and the air had the quality of snow-cooled
wine, her sister sang in turn to the trooper's accompaniment. I
remember only that it was a song free from weak sentimentality, with an
heroic undertone; but it stirred me, and a murmur of voices rose from
the shadows outside. Then Foreman Thorn stood broad hat in hand, in the
doorway.

"If it wouldn't be a liberty, miss, the boys would take it as an honor
if you would sing that, or something else, over again. They've never
heard nothing like it, even down to Winnipeg," he said.

The girl blushed a little, and looked at me. "They were kind to me. Do
you really think it would please them?" she asked.

"If it doesn't they will be abominably ungrateful; but although we are
not conventional, the request strikes me as a liberty," I said, noticing
that her sister did not seem wholly pleased.

"Tell them I will do my best," was the answer, and, after a conference
with Cotton, Lucille Haldane walked towards the open door. There was no
trace of vanity or self-consciousness in her bearing. It was pure
kindliness which prompted her, and when she stood outside the building,
with the star-strewn vault above her, and the prairie silver-gray at her
feet, bareheaded, slight, and willowy in her thin white dress, it seemed
small wonder that the dusty men who clustered about the wire fence swung
down their broad hats to do her homage.

Perfect stillness succeeded, save for sounds made by the restless
cattle; then the banjo tinkled, and a clear voice rang out through the
soft transparency of the summer night: "All day long the reapers!"

There was a deep murmur when the last tinkle of the banjo sank into
silence, a confused hum of thanks, and teamster and stock-rider melted
away, and Lucille Haldane, returning, glanced almost apologetically at
me.

"I just felt I had to please them," she said. "Even if you older people
smile, I am proud of this great country, and it seems to me that these
are the men who are making it what it will some day be. Don't you think
that we who live idly in the cities owe a good deal to them?"

Haldane laid his hand caressingly on his daughter's arm. "Impulsive as
ever--but perhaps you are right," he said. "In any case, it will be
after midnight before we get home, and you might ask for our team,
Ormesby."

Every man about Gaspard's Trail helped to haul up the wagon and harness
the spirited team, while, in spite of Cotton's efforts, Thorn insisted
on handing my youngest guest into the vehicle; and it was with some
difficulty I exchanged parting civilities with the rest as the vehicle
rolled away amid the stockmen's cheers.




CHAPTER VI

A HOLOCAUST


It was late one sultry night when I sat moodily beside an open window in
my house at Gaspard's Trail. I had risen before the sun that morning,
but, though tired with a long day's ride, I felt restless and
ill-disposed to sleep. Thomas Steel, whose homestead stood some leagues
away, lounged close by with his unlighted pipe on his knee and his
coarse sun-faded shirt flung open showing his bronzed neck and the paler
color of his ample chest. He was about my own age and possessed the
frame of a gladiator, but there was limp dejection in his attitude.

"It's just awful weather, but there's a change at hand," he said. "It
will be too late for some of us when it comes."

I merely nodded, and glanced out through the window. Thick darkness
brooded over the prairie, though at intervals a flicker of sheet
lightning blazed along the horizon and called up clumps of straggling
birches out of the obscurity. A fitful breeze which eddied about the
building set the grasses sighing, but it was without coolness, and laden
with the smell of burning. Far-off streaks of crimson shone against the
sky in token that grass-fires were moving down-wind across the prairie.
They would, however, so far as we could see, hurt nobody. Steel fidgeted
nervously until I began to wonder what was the matter with him, and when
he thrust his chair backwards I said irritably: "For heaven's sake sit
still. You look as ill at ease as if you had been told off to murder
somebody."

The stalwart farmer's face darkened. "I feel 'most as bad, and have been
waiting all evening to get the trouble out," he said. "Fact is, I'm
borrowing money, and if you could let me have a few hundred dollars it
would mean salvation."

I laughed harshly to hide my dismay. The prairie settlers stand by one
another in time of adversity, and in earlier days Steel had been a good
friend to me; but the request was singularly inopportune. Two bad
seasons had followed each other, when the whole Dominion labored under a
commercial depression; and though my estate was worth at ordinary values
a considerable sum, it was only by sacrificing my best stock I could
raise money enough to carry it on.

"If I get anything worth mentioning for the beasts I'll do my utmost,
and by emptying the treasury perhaps I can scrape up two or three
hundred now. What do you want with it?" I said.

"I thought you would help me," answered Steel, with a gasp of relief.
"I've been played for the fool I am. I got a nice little book from the
---- Company, and it showed how any man with enterprise could get ahead
by the aid of borrowed capital. Then its representative--very affable
man--came along and talked considerable. I was a bit hard pressed, and
the end was that he lent me money. There were a blame lot of charges,
and the money seemed to melt away, while now, if I don't pay up, he'll
foreclose on me."

I clenched my right hand viciously, for the man who had trapped poor
Steel had also a hold on me, and I began to cherish a growing fear of
the genial Lane.

"It's getting a common story around here," I said. "That man seems bent
on absorbing all this country, but if only for that very reason we're
bound to help each other to beat him. It will be a hard pull, but,
though it all depends on what the stock fetch, I'll do the best I can."

Steel was profuse in his thanks, and I lapsed into a by no means
overpleasant reverie. So some time passed until a glare of red and
yellow showed up against the sky where none had been before.

"Looks like a mighty big fire. There's long grass feeding it, and it has
just rolled over a ridge," said Steel. "Seems to me somewhere near the
Indian Spring Bottom, but Redmond and the other fellow would drive the
stock well clear."

Flinging my chair back I snatched a small compass from a shelf, laid it
on the window-ledge, and, kneeling behind it, with a knife blade held
across the card I took the bearings of the flame. "It's coming right
down on the bottom, and though by this time the stock is probably well
clear, I'm a little uneasy about it. We'll ride over and make quite
sure," I said.

"Of course!" Steel answered, and seemed about to add something, but
thought better of it and followed me towards the stable. Thorn, who was
prompt of action, had also seen the fire, for he was already busy with
the horses; and inside of five minutes we were sweeping at a gallop
across the prairie. Save for the intermittent play of lightning the
darkness was Egyptian; and the grass was seamed by hollows and deadly
badger-holes; but the broad blaze streamed higher for a beacon, and,
risking a broken neck, I urged on the mettled beast beneath me. Grass
fires are common, and generally are harmless enough in our country; but
that one seemed unusually fierce, and an indefinite dread gained on me
as the miles rolled behind us.

"It's the worst I've seen for several seasons. Whole ridge is blazing,"
panted Steel, as, with a great crackling, we swept neck and neck
together through the tall grass of a slough in the midst of which
Thorn's horse blundered horribly. Then we dipped into a ravine, reeling
down the slope and splashing through caked mire where a little water had
been. Every moment might be precious, and turning aside for nothing, we
rode straight across the prairie, while at last I pressed the horse
fiercely as a long rise shut out the blaze. Once we gained its crest the
actual conflagration would be visible. The horse was white with lather,
and I was almost blinded with sweat and dust when we gained the summit.
Drawing bridle, I caught at my breath. The Sweetwater ran blood red
beneath us, and the whole mile-wide hollow through which it flowed was
filled with fire, while some distance down stream on the farther side a
dusky mass was discernible through the rolling smoke which blew in long
wisps in that direction. It seemed as though a cold hand had suddenly
been laid on my heart, for the mass moved, and was evidently composed of
close-packed and panic-stricken beasts.

"It's the Gaspard draft held up by the wing fence!" a voice behind me
rose in a breathless yell.

I smote the horse, and we shot down the declivity. How the beast kept
its footing I do not know, for there were thickets of wild berries and
here and there thin willows to be smashed through; but we went down at a
mad gallop, the clods whirling behind us and the wind screaming past,
until we plunged into the Sweetwater through a cloud of spray. In places
soft mire clogged the sinking hoofs, in others slippery shingle rolled
beneath them, while the stream seethed whitely to the girth; but
steaming, panting, dripping, we came through, and I dashed,
half-blinded, into the smoke. A confused bellowing came out of the
drifting wreaths ahead, and there was a mad beat of hoofs behind, but I
could see little save the odd shafts of brightness which leaped out of
the vapor as I raced towards the fire. Then somebody cried in warning,
and the horse reared almost upright as--while I wrenched upon the
bridle--a running man staggered out of the smoke. A red blaze tossed
suddenly aloft behind him, and as he turned the brightness smote upon
his blackened face. It was set and savage, and the hair was singed upon
his forehead.

"It's blue ruin. The green birches are burning, and all your beasts are
corraled in the fence wings," he gasped. "Fire came over the rise
without warning, in Redmond's watch. Somehow he got the rest clear, but
your lot stampeded and the wire brought them up. I'm off to the shanty
for an ax--but no living man could get them out."

Thorn pulled up his plunging horse as the other spoke, and for a few
seconds I struggled with the limpness of dismay. Then I said hoarsely:
"If the flame hasn't lapped the wings yet, we'll try."

By this time the horses were almost in a state of panic, and Thorn's
nearly unseated him, but we urged them into the vapor towards the fence.
Fences were scarce in our district then, but after a dispute as to the
grazing I had shared the cost of that one with another man, partly
because it would be useful when sheep washing was forward and would
serve as a corral when we cut out shipping stock. It consisted of only
two wings at right angles--a long one towards the summit of the rise,
and another parallel to the river, which flowed deep beneath that rotten
bank; but the beasts on each side would seldom leave the rich grass in
the hollow to wander round the unclosed end, and if driven into the
angle two riders could hold the open mouth. Now I could see that the
simple contrivance might prove a veritable death-trap to every beast
within it.

It was with difficulty we reached the crest of the rise, but we passed
the wing before the fire, which now broke through the driving vapor, a
wavy wall of crimson, apparently two fathoms high, closing in across the
full breadth of the hollow at no great pace, but with a relentless
regularity. Then I rode fiercely towards the angle or junction of the
wires where the beasts were bunched together as in the pocket of a net.
Thorn and Steel came up a few seconds later.

The outside cattle were circling round and jostling each other,
thrusting upon those before them; the inside of the mass was as compact
as if rammed together by hydraulic pressure, and, to judge by the
bellowing, those against the fence were being rent by the barbs or
slowly crushed to death. Our cattle wander at large across the prairie
and exhibit few characteristics of domestic beasts. Indeed, they are at
times almost dangerous to handle, and when stampeded in a panic a
squadron of cavalry would hardly turn them. Yet the loss of this draft
boded ruin to me, and it was just possible that if we could separate one
or two animals from the rest and drive them towards the end of the fence
the others might follow. The mouth of the net might remain open for a
few minutes yet.

"I guess it's hopeless, but we've just got to try," said Thorn, who
understood what was in my mind. "Start in with that big one. There's not
a second to lose."

Steel, leaning down from the saddle, drove his knife-point into the rump
of one beast, and when it wheeled I thrust my horse between it and the
herd and smote it upon the nostrils with my clenched fist, uselessly.
The terrified creature headed round again, jamming me against its
companions, and when my horse backed clear, one of my legs felt as
though it were broken. This, however, was no time to trouble about minor
injuries or be particular on the score of humanity; and while Thorn
endeavored to effect a diversion by twisting one beast's tail I pricked
another savagely. It wheeled when it felt the pain, and when it turned
again with gleaming horns and lowered head Steel pushed recklessly into
the opening. Then a thick wisp of smoke filled my eyes, and I did not
see how it happened, but man and horse had gone down together when the
vapor thinned, and the victorious animal was once more adding its weight
to the pressure on the rear of the surging mass.

Steel was up next moment, struggling with his horse, which, with bared
teeth, was backing away from him at full length of its bridle; but,
answering my shout, he said breathlessly: "I don't know whether half my
bones are cracked or not, but they feel very much like it. It's no good,
Ormesby. We'll have to cut the fence from the other side, and if we fool
here any longer we'll lose the horses, too."

I saw there was truth in this, and almost doubted if we could clear the
fence wing now. It was at least certain that nothing we could do there
would extricate the terrified beasts; and when Steel got himself into
the saddle we started again at a gallop. There was less smoke, and what
there was towered vertically in a lull of the breeze; but the crackling
flame tossed higher and higher. For a moment I fancied it had cut us off
within the fence, which would have made a dangerous leap; but though the
terrified horses were almost beyond guidance, fear lent them speed, and
with very little room to spare Steel and I shot round the end of the
wire.

"Look out for the setting-up post nearest the corner, and slack the
turn-screws until the wire goes down, while I try to cut the strand
close in to the herd!" I roared "Is Thorn behind you?"

"No," the answer came back. "Good Lord! we've left him inside the
fence!"

I managed to pull my horse up, when a glance showed me the foreman's
stalwart figure silhouetted against the crimson flame as he strove to
master his plunging horse. It was evident that the horse had refused to
face the fire, which now rolled right up the wings of the fence.

"Come down and let him go! You can either climb the wires or crawl under
them!" I shouted, wondering whether the crackling of the flame drowned
my husky voice.

"This horse is worth three hundred dollars, and he's either going
through or over," the answer came back; and I shouted in warning, for it
appeared impossible to clear that fence, though the beast, which was not
of common bronco stock, had good imported blood in him. Then there was a
yell from the foreman as he recklessly shot forward straight at the
fence. The horse was ready to face anything so long as he could keep the
fire behind him, and I held my breath as he rose at the wire. Our horses
are not good jumpers, and the result seemed certain. His knees struck
the topmost wire; there was a heavy crash; and the man, shooting forward
as from a catapult, alighted with a sickening thud, while the poor brute
rolled over and lay still on the wrong side of the fence. Thorn rose,
but very shakily, and I was thankful I had lost only some three hundred
dollars, which I could very badly spare.

"Nothing given out this trip," he spluttered. "I've dropped my knife,
though. Go on and try the cutting. I'll follow when I can."

In another few moments I dismounted abreast of the angle, and hitched
the bridle round a strand of the wire, knowing that the possibility of
getting away almost instantaneously when my work was done might make
all the difference between life and death. The fence was tall, built of
stout barbed wire strained to a few screw standards and stapled to thick
birch posts. I had neither ax nor nippers, only a long-bladed knife, and
densely packed beasts were wedging themselves tighter and tighter
against the other side of the barrier. Already some had fallen and been
trampled out of existence, while others seemed horribly mangled and
torn. The man who had gone for an ax had not reappeared, and I regretted
I had not bidden him take one of our horses, for the shanty was some
distance away.

Slashing through the laces I dragged off one boot. Its heel was heavy
and might serve for a mallet, and holding the blade of my knife on the
top strand close against a post, I smote it furiously. The wire was not
nicked half through when it burst beneath the pressure, and a barb on
its flying end scored my face so that the blood trickled into my mouth
and eyes; but the next wire was of treble twist, and as I struck and
choked I regretted the thoroughness with which we had built the fence.
The knife chipped under the blows I rained upon it, and when I shortened
the blade its end snapped off. In a fit of desperation I seized the
lacerating wires with my naked fingers and tore at them frenziedly, but
what the pressure on the other side failed to accomplish the strength of
twenty men might not do, so when in a few seconds reason returned to me
I picked up what remained of the knife and set to work again. There was
still no sign of Thorn, and as the wires did not slacken it was plain
that Steel had failed to loose the straining screws without convenient
tools. Three slender cords of steel alone pent in the stock that were to
set me free of debt, but I had no implements with which to break them,
so they also held me fast to be dragged down helpless to beggary.

At last the wire I struck at bent outward further, and when I next
brought the boot heel down there was a metallic ringing as one strand
parted, and I shouted in breathless triumph, knowing the other must
follow. The fire was close behind the pent-up herd now, and I guessed
that very shortly my life would depend on my horse's speed. Just then
Steel dashed up, mounted, shouting: "Into the saddle with you. The fence
is going!"

I saw him unhitch my horse's bridle and struggle to hold the beast ready
between himself and me, but I meant to make quite certain of my part, so
I brought the boot heel down thrice again. Then I leaped backward,
clutched at the bridle, and scrambled to the saddle as a black mass
rolled out of the gap where the wire flew back. I remember desperately
endeavoring to head the horse clear of it along the fence, and wondering
how many of the cattle would fall over the remaining wires and be
crushed before their carcasses formed a causeway for the rest; but the
horse was past all guidance; and now that the fence had lost its
continuity more fathoms of it went down and the dusky mass poured over
it. Then something struck me with a heavy shock, the horse stumbled as I
slipped my feet out of the stirrups, and we went down together. I saw
nothing further, though I could feel the earth tremble beneath me; then
this sensation faded, and I was conscious of only a numbing pain beneath
my neck and my left arm causing me agony. After this there followed a
space of empty blackness.

When I partly recovered my faculties the pain was less intense, though
my left arm, which was tied to my side, felt hot and heavy, and the
jolting motion convinced me that I lay in the bottom of a wagon.

"Did you get the stock clear?" I gasped, striving to raise my head from
the hay truss in which it was almost buried; and somebody who stooped
down held a bottle to my lips.

"Don't you tell him," a subdued voice said, and the man, who I think was
Steel, came near choking me as he poured more spirit than I could
swallow down my throat and also down my neck.

"That's all right. Don't worry. We're mighty thankful we got you," he
said.

Then the empty blackness closed in on me again, and I lay still,
wondering whether I were dead and buried, and if so, why the pricking
between shoulder and breast should continue so pitilessly; until that
ceased in turn, and I had a hazy idea that someone was carrying me
through an interminable cavern; after which there succeeded complete
oblivion.




CHAPTER VII

A BITTER AWAKENING


The first day on which my attendants would treat me as a rational being
was a memorable one to me. It must have been late in the morning when I
opened my eyes, for the sun had risen above the level of the open
window, and I lay still blinking out across the prairie with, at first,
a curious satisfaction. I had cheated death and been called back out of
the darkness to sunlight and life, it seemed. Then I began to remember,
and the pain in the arm bound fast to my side helped to remind me that
life implied a struggle. Raising my head, I noticed that there had been
changes made in my room, and a young woman standing by the window
frowned at me.

"I guess all men are worrying, but you're about the worst I ever struck,
Rancher Ormesby. Just you lie back till I fix you, or I'll call the boys
in to tie you fast with a girth."

She was a tall, fair, well-favored damsel, with a ruddy countenance and
somewhat bold eyes; but I was disappointed when I saw her clearly, even
though her laugh was heartsome when I answered humbly: "I will try not
to trouble you if you don't mean to starve me."

Miss Sally Steel, for it was my neighbor's sister, shouted to somebody
through the window, and then turned to the man who rose from a corner.
"You just stay right where you are. When I call cookie I'll see he
comes. I've been running this place as it ought to be run, and you won't
know Gaspard's when you get about, Rancher Ormesby."

The man laughed, and I saw it was Thorn, though I did not know then that
after doing my work and his own during the day he had watched the
greater part of every night beside me.

"Feeling pretty fit this morning?" he asked.

"Comparatively so," I answered. "I should feel better if I knew just
what happened to me and to the stock. You might tell me, beginning from
the time the fence went down."

"If he does there'll be trouble," broke in Miss Steel, who, I soon
discovered, had constituted herself autocratic mistress of Gaspard's
Trail. "He must wait until you have had breakfast, anyway." And I saw
the cook stroll very leisurely towards the window carrying a tray.

"Was anybody calling?" he commenced, with the exasperating slowness he
could at times assume; and then, catching sight of me, would have
clambered in over the low window-sill but that Miss Steel stopped him.

"Anybody calling! I should think there was--and when I want people
they'll come right along," she said. "No; you can stop out there--isn't
all the prairie big enough for you? There'll be some tone about this
place before I'm through," and the cook grinned broadly as he caught my
eye.

Miss Steel's voice was not unpleasant, though it had a strident ring,
and her face was gentle as she raised me on a heap of folded blankets
with no great effort, though I was never a very light weight, after
which, between my desire to please her and a returning appetite, I made
a creditable meal.

"That's a long way better," she said approvingly. "Tom brought a fool
doctor over from Calgary, who said you'd got your brain mixed and a
concussion of the head. 'Fix up his bones and don't worry about anything
else,' I said. 'It would take a steam hammer to make any concussion
worth talking of on Rancher Ormesby's head.'"

"Thorn has not answered my question," I interrupted; and Miss Steel
flashed a glance at the foreman, who seemed to hesitate before he
answered. "It happened this way: You were a trifle late lighting out
when you'd cut the fence. Steel said one of the beasts charged you, and
after that more of them stampeded right over you. The horse must have
kept some of them off, for he was stamped out pretty flat, and it was a
relief to hear you growling at something when we got you out."

"How did you get me out?" I asked, and Thorn fidgeted before he
answered: "It wasn't worth mentioning, but between us Steel and I
managed to split the rush, and the beasts went by on each side of us."

"At the risk of being stamped flat, too! I might have expected it of you
and Steel," I said; and the girl's eyes sparkled as she turned to the
foreman.

"Then Steel went back for the wagon after we found you had an arm and a
collarbone broken. I rode in to the railroad and wired for a doctor.
Sally came over to nurse you, and a pretty tough time she has had of it.
You had fever mighty bad."

"There's no use in saying I'm obliged to both of you, because you know
it well," I made shift to answer; and Sally Steel stroked the hair back
from my forehead in sisterly fashion as she smiled at Thorn. "But what
about the stock? Did they all get through?"

Thorn's honest face clouded, and Sally Steel laid her plump hand on my
mouth. "You're not going to worry about that. A herd of cattle stampeded
over you and you're still alive. Isn't that good enough for you?"

I moved my head aside. "I shall worry until I know the truth. All the
beasts could not have got out. How many did?" I asked.

Thorn looked at Sally, then sideways at me, and I held my breath until
the girl said softly: "You had better tell him."

"Very few," said the foreman; and I hoped that my face was as
expressionless as I tried to make it when I heard the count. "Some of
those near the fence got clear, and some didn't. Steel had grubbed up a
post, and when the wires slacked part of the rest got tangled up and
went down, choking the gap. It was worse than a Chicago slaughter-house
when the fire rolled up."

"The horses, too? How long have I been ill, and has any rain fallen?" I
asked, with the strange steadiness that sometimes follows a crushing
blow, and Thorn moodily shook his head.

"Both horses done for. You've been ill 'bout two weeks, I think. No rain
worth mentioning--and the crop is clean wiped out."

There was silence for some minutes, and Sally Steel patted my uninjured
shoulder sympathetically. Then I pointed to a litter of papers on the
table, and inquired if there were any letters in Lane's writing. Thorn
handed me one reluctantly, and it was hard to refrain from fierce
exclamation as I read the laconic missive. Lane regretted to hear of my
accident, but the scarcity of money rendered it necessary to advise me
that as I had not formally accepted his terms, repayment of the loan was
overdue, and he would be obliged to realize unless I were willing to
pledge Crane Valley or renew the arrangement at an extra five per cent.
on the terms last mentioned.

"Bad news?" said Sally. "Then I guess Thorn sha'n't worry you any more;
but it's just when things look worst the turn comes. That team will be
bolting soon, Thorn. I'll sit right back in the corner, and until you
want to talk to me you can forget I'm there."

The high-pitched voice sank to a gentler tone, and I felt grateful to
Sally Steel. Her reckless vagaries often formed a theme for laughter
when the inhabitants of the prairie foregathered at settlement or store;
but there was a depth of good-nature, as well as an overdaring love of
mischief in her, and not infrequently a blessing accompanied the jest.
Thorn was moving towards the door when, recollecting another point, I
beckoned him.

"How was it that when they had, or should have had, time enough,
Henderson's man and Redmond did not stop the cattle bunching in the
fence? It's very unlike our ways if they made no effort to save my
beasts as well as their own masters' property," I said.

Foreman Thorn looked troubled, and I saw that Sally was watching him
keenly. "I don't understand it rightly, and I guess no man ever will,"
he said. "Of course, we struck Henderson's Jo with just that question,
and this is what he made of it. He and Redmond were camping in Torkill's
deserted sod-house, and when they saw the fires were bad that night,
Redmond said he'd ride round the cattle. Their own lot was pretty well
out of harm's way, east of the fence, but Jo told him to take a look at
yours. Redmond started, and, as Jo knew that he'd be called if he were
wanted, he went off to sleep."

"That does not explain much," I interjected, when Thorn halted, rubbing
his head as though in search of inspiration.

"There isn't an explanation. Jo, waking later, saw the fire coming right
down the hollow and started on foot for the fence. There was no sign of
Redmond anywhere. Jo couldn't get the stock out, and he couldn't cut the
fence, and he was going back for an ax when we met him. You know all the
rest--'cept this. Steel and I were standing over you, and the fire was
roasting the beasts mixed up in the fence, when Redmond comes along. The
way he stood, the flame shone right on his face. It seemed twisted, and
the man looked like a ghost. He stood there blinking at the beasts--and
it wasn't a pretty sight--then shook all over as he stooped down and
looked at you. There was a good deal of blood about you from the horse.

"'What the devil's wrong with you? Stiffen yourself up!' says Steel; and
Redmond's voice cracked in the middle as he answered him: 'I'm feeling
mighty sick. Is he dead?'

"'Looks pretty near it. If you'd seen those beasts clear he mightn't
have come to this. Here, take a drink. We'll want you presently,' says
Steel, and went on strapping you together with a girth and bridle, while
I watched Redmond with one eye. As you know, there was never much grit
in the creature, and he had another shivering fit.

"'Get out until you're feeling better. That kind of thing's catching,
and we've lots to do,' I said; and he laughs with a cackle like an
hysterical woman, and blinks straight past me. Steel and I figured he'd
got hold of some smuggled whisky and been drinking bad, but afterwards
Henderson's Jo said no.

"'It's murder. My God! It's horrible--an' he never done anyone no harm,'
he says, and falls to cussing somebody quietly. I can talk pretty
straight when I'm hot myself, but that was ice-cold swearing with venom
in it, and when he got on to Judas, with the devil in his eyes, I ripped
up a big sod and plugged him on the head with it.

"'If you don't let up or quit I'll pound the life out of you,' says
Steel.

"Well, we got you fixed so you couldn't make the damage worse, and when
Steel went for the wagon and I looked around for Redmond he was gone.
Don't know what to think of it, anyway, 'cept his troubles or bad whisky
had turned his head. You see he was never far from crazy."

"Why didn't one of you get hold of him and make him talk next day?" I
asked; and Thorn looked at me curiously.

"Because he'd gone. Lit out to nobody knows where and stopped there. I
don't know just what to think, myself."

Sally took Thorn by the shoulders and thrust him out, but he left me
with sufficient, and unpleasant, food for reflection. The stock I had
counted on were gone. Also, when it was above all things desirable that
I should be up and doing, I must lie still for weeks, useless as a log.
One thing at least I saw clearly, and that was the usurer's purpose to
absorb my property; and as I lay with throbbing forehead and
tight-clenched fingers, which had grown strangely white, I determined
that he should have cause to remember the struggle before he
accomplished it. That Redmond had been driven by him into shameful
treachery appeared too probable, though there was no definite proof of
it, and the thought stiffened my resolution. My scattered neighbors,
patient as they were, were ill to coerce and would doubtless join me in
an effort before the schemer's machinations left us homeless.

Then I could hardly check a groan as I remembered all that the brief
glimpses of a brighter life at Bonaventure had suggested. A few months
earlier it had appeared possible that with one or two more good seasons
I might even have attained to it; but since then a gulf had opened
between Beatrice Haldane and me, and the best I could hope for was a
resumption of what now seemed hopeless drudgery. It was a bitter
awakening, and I almost regretted that Steel and Foreman Thorn had not
been a few seconds later when the fence went down. An hour passed, and
Sally Steel, bringing a chair over to my side, offered to read to me
what she said was a real smart shadowing story. I glanced at the
invincible detective standing amid a scene of bloodshed, depicted on the
cover of the journal she held up, and declined with due civility.

"I am afraid my nerves are not good enough. I should sooner you talked
to me, Sally," I said.

She laughed coquettishly, and there was no doubt that Steel's sister was
handsome, as women on that part of the prairie go. Sun and wind had
ripened the color in her face, her teeth were white as ivory, her lips
full and red, and perhaps most men would have found pleasure watching
the sparkle of mischief that danced in her eyes as she answered
demurely: "That would be just too nice. What shall we talk about?"

"You might tell me who was the first to come ask about me," I said.

The girl stretched out one plump arm with a comprehensive gesture. "They
all came, bringing things along, most of them. Even the little
Icelander; he loaded up his wagon with a keg of herrings--said they were
best raw--and lumps of grindstone bread. Oh, yes; they all came, and I
was glad to see them, 'cept when some of their wives came with them."

"They are kind people in this country; but how could the women worry
you? In any case, I think you would be equal to them," I commented; and,
somewhat to my surprise, the girl first blushed, and then looked
positively wicked.

"They--well, they would ask questions, and said things, when they found
Tom was down to Brandon," she answered enigmatically. "Still, I guess I
was equal to most of them. 'Rancher Ormesby's not sending the hat round
yet, and that truck is not fit for any sick man to eat when it's just
about half-cooked,' I said. 'You can either take it back or leave it for
Thorn to worry with. Fresh rocks wouldn't hurt his digestion. Just now
I'm way too busy to answer conundrums.'"

Sally seemed glad to abandon that topic, and did not look quite pleased
when I hazarded another question, with suppressed interest, but as
carelessly as I could: "Did anybody else drive over?"

The girl laughed a trifle maliciously, and yet with a certain enjoyment.
"Oh, yes. One day, when I was too busy for anything, the people from
Bonaventure drove over, and wanted to take you back. I don't know why,
but the way Haldane's elder daughter looked about the place just got my
back up. 'You can't have him. This is where he belongs,' I said.

"'But he is ill, and this place is hardly fit for him. There are no
comforts, and we could take better care of him,' said the younger one,
and I turned round to her.

"'That's just where you're wrong. Rancher Ormesby has lived here for
eight years, and when he's sick he has plenty friends of his own kind to
take care of him. I'm one of them, and we don't dump our sick people on
to strangers,' I said.

"The elder one she straightens herself a little, as though she didn't
like my talk. 'He could not be as comfortable as he would be at
Bonaventure, which is the most important thing. We will ask the doctor;
and have you any right to place obstacles in the way of Mr. Ormesby's
recovery?' says she, and that was enough for me.

"'I've all the right I want,' I answered. 'I'm running Gaspard's Trail,
and if you can find a man about the place who won't jump when I want
him, you needn't believe me. That makes me a busy woman--see?--so I'll
not keep you. Go back to Bonaventure, and don't come worrying the
people he belongs to about Rancher Ormesby.'"

I groaned inwardly, and only by an effort concealed my blank
consternation. "What did they say next?" I asked.

"Nothing much. The younger one--and I was half sorry I'd spoken straight
to her--opened her eyes wide. The elder one she looks at me in a way
that made me feel fit to choke her, while Haldane made a little bow. 'I
have no doubt he is in capable hands, and we need not trouble you
further. No, I don't think you need mention that we called,' says he."

Sally tossed her head with an air of triumph as she concluded, and I lay
very still, for it was too late to pray for deliverance from my friends,
though of all the rude succession this was about the most cruel blow.
What mischievous fiend had prompted the quick-tempered girl to turn upon
the Haldanes I could never surmise, but jealousy might have had
something to do with it, for Trooper Cotton had once been a favorite of
hers. In any case, the result appeared disastrous, for, while I believed
her no more than thoughtless, there was no disguising the fact that some
of the settlers' less-favored daughters spoke evil of Sally Steel, and I
feared their stories had reached Bonaventure.

When five minutes or so had passed she looked at me somewhat shyly.
"You're not mad?" she said.

"I could hardly be vexed with you, whatever happened, after all you have
done for me. I was only thinking," I made shift to answer. "Still, you
might have been a little more civil, Sally."

For a moment or two the girl appeared almost penitent; then she bent her
head towards my own, and again the mischief crept into her eyes.

"I'd have brought them in to a banquet, if I had only guessed," she
said; and with a thrill of laughter she slipped out of the room. It was
with sincere relief I saw her go, for I was in no mood for the somewhat
pointed prairie banter, and felt that, in spite of her manifold
kindnesses, I could almost have shaken Sally Steel. Then I turned my
head from the light, remembering I was not only a ruined man without
even power to move, but had left a discordant memory with the friends
whose good opinion I most valued, and whom now I might never again meet
on the old terms.




CHAPTER VIII

HOW REDMOND CAME HOME


The weather continued pitilessly hot and dry, when, one afternoon,
Trooper Cotton, returning from a tour of fireguard inspection, sat near
the window-seat in which I lay at Gaspard's Trail. I was glad of his
company, because the sight of the parched prairie and bare strip of
plowland was depressing. Barns and granary alike were empty, for the
earth had failed to redeem her promise that season, and an unnatural
silence brooded over Gaspard's Trail.

"I don't know what has come over this country," the trooper said. "One
used to get a cheery word everywhere, but now farmer and stockman can
hardly answer a question civilly, and the last fellow I spoke to about
his fireguards seemed inclined to assault me. Presumably it's the bad
times, and I'll be thankful when they improve. It might put some of you
into a more pleasant humor."

"If you had said bad men you might have been nearer the mark," I
answered dryly. "We are a peaceable people, but there's an oppression
worse than any governmental tyranny, and from the rumors in the air it's
not impossible some of us may try to find our own remedy if we are
pushed too far."

"That's a little indefinite," said Cotton, with a laugh. "If you mean
taking the law into your own hands, there would be very unpleasant work
for me. Still, I'm sorry for all of you, especially those whom that
flabby scoundrel Lane seems to be squeezing. He's been driving to and
from the railroad a good deal of late, and it's curious that twice when
I struck his trail two traveling photographers turned up soon after him.
One was a most amusing rascal, but I did not see the other, who was busy
inside the wagon tent, and who apparently managed the camera. I'll show
you a really tolerable picture of me he insisted on taking."

It struck me that Boone, or Adams, had twice run a serious risk; but I
said nothing, and Cotton, fumbling inside his tunic, tossed a litter of
papers on the table. These were mostly official, but there were odd
letters among them, for the trooper was not remarkable for preciseness,
and I noticed a crest upon some of the envelopes, while, after shuffling
them, he flung me a small card, back uppermost. I was surprised when,
turning it over, the face of Lucille Haldane met my gaze.

"It is a charming picture; but that is only natural, considering the
original. How did you get this, Cotton?" I said.

The trooper snatched it from me, and a darker color mantled his
forehead. "Confound it! I never meant to show you that," he said.

"So I surmised," I answered dryly; and the lad frowned as he thrust the
picture out of sight.

"You will understand, Ormesby, that Miss Haldane did not give me this.
I--well--I discovered it."

"Wasn't it foolish of you?" I asked quietly; and the trooper, who,
strange to say, did not seem to find my tone of paternal admonition
ludicrous, answered impulsively: "I don't know why I should strip for
your inspection, Ormesby, or why I should not favor you with a
well-known reply; but it is perhaps best that you should not
misunderstand the position. I know what you are thinking, but I haven't
forgotten I'm Trooper Cotton--nor am I likely to. It's a strange life,
Ormesby, and the men who live it go under occasionally. This--God bless
her--is merely something to hold on by."

I made no answer, for there was nothing appropriate I could find to say;
but it occurred to me that Lucille Haldane might never receive a higher
compliment than this lad's unexpectant homage.

"Here is the right one, and you will obliterate the other from your
memory," he said, passing me a second photograph. "The fellow who took
it knows how to handle a camera."

It was evident he did; and, knowing who he was, the irony of the
circumstances impressed me as I examined the picture. "He has an
artistic taste and an eye for an effective pose. Are you going to send
any copies to your people in England, Cotton?" I said.

"No," answered the lad quietly; "they might not be pleased with it.
Well, I dare say, you have guessed long ago that I am one of the legion.
Most of my people were soldiers, which was why, when I had two dollars
left, I offered the nation my services at Regina; but I am the first of
them to wear a police private's uniform."

I nodded sympathetically, and the trooper, who looked away from me out
of the window, said: "Talk of the devil! All men, it is said, are equal
in this country, but I fancy there's a grade between most of us and your
acquaintance, Foster Lane. The fellow has passed the corral, and I can't
get out without meeting him."

I nodded with a certain grim sense of anticipation, for I had determined
to speak very plainly to Foster Lane, and knew that Cotton could, on
occasion, display a refined insolence that was signally exasperating.
The next moment Lane came in, red-faced and perspiring, and greeted me
with his usual affability.

"I'm on the way to recovery, but unable to ride far, which explains my
request for a visit," I said; and Lane waved his large hands
deprecatingly.

"Business is business, and you need not apologize, because although I
have come two hundred miles you will find first-class expenses charged
for in the bill. I can't smoke on horseback. Will you and the trooper
try one of these?"

"No, thanks," said Cotton, with an inflection in his voice and a look in
his half-closed eyes that would have warned a more sensitive person; but
Lane, still holding out the cigar-case, added with mild surprise: "By
the price I paid for them they ought to be good."

"I don't doubt it," drawled Cotton, glancing languidly at the speaker.
"But a few of what you would call British prejudices still cling to me,
and I take cigars and things only from my friends--you see?"

The stout man laughed a little, though there was malice in his eye. "And
we are not likely to be acquainted? You are, one might presume, a scion
of the English aristocracy, come out to recruit your health or wait
until it's a little less sultry in the old country."

"I would hardly go so far!"--and Cotton drawled out the words, as he
turned upon his heel. "More unlikely things have happened. At present I
have the honor of serving her Majesty as--a police trooper."

Lane handed me his cigar-case when the lad strolled out of the door, but
I was in no mood to assume an unfelt cordiality. "I am not inclined for
smoking. Hadn't we better come straight to business?" I said.

Lane struck a match, and stretched his legs along the window-seat,
though he closed the case with a snap. "Why, certainly! You are ready to
redeem the mortgage on Gaspard's Trail?"

He spoke pleasantly, though there was a sneer in his eyes, and he had
both lighted his cigar, in spite of my hint, and laid his dusty boots on
the cushions with a cool assurance that made me long to personally
chastise him. "You probably know that I am not," I said.

"I did hear you had lost some cattle," he answered indifferently. "Well,
in that case, I wait your proposition."

"I am open to renew the loan at the original interest until this time
next year, when, no matter what I may have to part with, it will be paid
off. You have already had a very fair return on your money," I said.

"It can't be done," and Lane looked thoughtfully at his cigar. "I'll
carry you on that long at double interest, or make you a bid outright
for Crane Valley."

"There is no reason in your first offer; you asked only fifty per cent.
increase last time, which was enough in all conscience. What do you want
with Crane Valley?"

Lane smiled benignly. "You didn't accept that offer formally. Crane
Valley's a pretty location, and I've taken a fancy to it."

I took time to answer, and set my brain to work. The advantage lay with
the enemy, but, while it appeared certain that he would dispossess me
of Gaspard's Trail, I determined to hold on to Crane Valley. "You can't
have it, and I will not pay the extortionate interest. That, I think, is
plain enough," I said.

The financier shrugged his shoulders. "I hope you won't be sorry. I
haven't quite decided on my program, but you will hear what it is when
I'm ready. Have you got your own fixed?"

"I will have soon," I answered, my indignation gaining the mastery.
"There is no advantage to be gained by further circumlocution, and you
may as well know that I will give you as much trouble as possible before
you plunder me. In the first place, if we find Redmond, I shall try to
strike you for conspiracy."

"Do you know where Redmond is?" and there was a curious note in the
speaker's voice, though I stolidly refrained from any sign of either
negation or assent. "Neither do I; but I have my suspicions that he
won't be much use to you if you do find him. The man is half-crazy,
anyway. Did you ever hear about the fool bullfrog and the ox, Rancher
Ormesby?"

He leaned back against the logs, and chuckled so complacently at his own
conceit that it was hard to believe this easy-tempered creature was
draining half my neighbors' blood; but I was filled with a great
loathing for him.

"Your simile isn't a good one, even if it fits the case. An ox is a
hard-working, honest, and useful kind of beast; but there's no use
bandying words," I said.

"Just so!" and Lane rose lazily. "It's rather a pity you sent for me,
because you have not had much for your money. Being rather pressed just
now, I won't stay."

I had no intention of requesting him to do so, for the air seemed
clearer without him, and presently Cotton returned. For the first time,
I told him all my suspicions concerning Redmond, and he looked grave as
he listened. "It would have saved some people sorrow if I could only
have run that horse-leach in," he commented, gazing regretfully after
the diminishing figure of the rider. "Yes; it's curious about Redmond.
Lane was over at his place a little while before your accident, and I
believe afterwards as well, and since then nobody has seen Redmond. I'll
have a talk with Mackay, and put some of our men on his trail. If he's
still on top of the prairie they'll find him."

Cotton rode away; and late that evening Steel returned from his own
holding with a very grim face, while the eyes of his sister were
suspiciously red.

"I'm to be sold up, and am turned out now," he said. "Lane, who won't
wait any longer, is foreclosing, and he'll fix things so there will be
no balance left. God knows what's to become of Sally and me."

"You need not trouble about Sally," the girl said, with a flash in her
eyes. "We'll worry along somehow, and we'll live to see that devil
sorry."

Practical counsel seemed the best sympathy, and after asking a few
questions, I said: "This is going to be a grain-producing country, and
there are plenty acres ready for breaking and horses idle at Crane
Valley. When Lane seizes Gaspard's Trail, as he probably will, we must
see what can be done with them on the share arrangement; and meantime,
since I paid two hired men off, there is plenty for you to do here
helping me."

Steel eventually agreed, and as soon as I was fit for the saddle I rode
over to Mackay's quarters; but, though he stated that if Redmond were
anywhere in the Territories he would sooner or later be found, nothing
had so far resulted from his inquiries.

It was some weeks later, and towards the close of a sultry afternoon,
when I rode homewards with Cotton and Steel towards the Sweetwater. We
had much thunder that season, and though there had been a heavy storm
the night before, a stagnant, oppressive atmosphere still hung over the
prairie. It suited the somber mood of two of the party, while even
Cotton seemed unusually subdued.

Steel's possessions had been sold off that day, and bought up at
ridiculously inadequate prices by two strangers, who we all suspected
had been financed by Lane. Few of us had a dollar to spare, and the
auctioneer, who was also probably under the money-lender's thumb,
demanded proof of ability to make the purchase when one or two neighbors
attempted to force up the bidding. Steel rode with slack bridle and his
head bent, and I was heavy of heart, for I held Gaspard's Trail only on
sufferance, and the same fate must soon overtake me. The prairie
stretched before us a desolate waste, fading on the horizon into gray
obscurity, and, together with the gloom of the heavens above, its
forlorn aspect increased my depression. So we came moodily to the dip to
the Sweetwater, and I saw Mackay standing beside a deeper pool below. A
rapid flowed into the head of it, and the lines of froth shone with a
strange lividness. The time was then perhaps an hour before sunset. When
we dismounted to water and rest the horses, Mackay turned sharply and
glanced at Cotton.

"All went off quietly?" And the trooper nodded.

"Yes," I said. "We have a long patience, Sergeant; but there were signs
on some of the faces that things may go differently some day."

"Ay?" said the sergeant, fixing his keen eyes on me as he stood, a lean,
bronze-skinned statue beside the river. "What were ye meaning, Rancher
Ormesby?"

"I was merely giving you a hint," I said. "We have paid all demanded
from us and kept the law, but now, when the powers that rule us stand by
and watch us ground out of existence to enrich a few unprincipled
schemers, it is hard to say what might not happen."

"Ye did well," was the dry answer. "It will be my business to see ye
keep it still; but in this country any man has liberty to talk just as
foolishly as it pleases him. Can the law change the seasons for ye, or
protect the careless from their own improvidence? But let be. I'm older
than most o' ye, and have seen that there's a measure set on
oppression."

He concluded with a curious assurance which approached solemnity; but
Steel added, with a Western expletive, that he had already let be until
he was ruined. Then I broke in: "If I can find Redmond and wring the
truth from him I hope to prove that the limit has been reached; and I
purpose, in the first place, to see what the law will do for me. Have
you any word of him?"

"No," and the sergeant's tone was very significant. "If he were still
above the prairie-sod we should have found him. But there was a bit
freshet last night--and I am expecting him."

Steel, I fancied, shivered, and though the speaker might well be
mistaken, anything that served to divert our thoughts was a relief, and
for a while we lay among the grasses, smoking silently. The sky was
heavily overcast, there was no breath of air astir, and the slow gurgle
of the river drifted mournfully down the hollow. For some reason, I felt
strangely restless and expectant, as though something unusual would
shortly happen. A faint drumming of hoofs rose up from somewhere far off
across the prairie, as well as a sound which might have been made by an
approaching wagon.

"That's Lane striking south for the railroad with a few of the boys
behind him," Steel said listlessly. "There'll be thunder before he
reaches it, and Lardeau's team is wild, but there's no use hoping
they'll bolt and break Lane's neck for him. Accidents do not happen to
that kind of man."

A little time had passed, and the beat of horses' feet broke in a
rhythmic measure through the heavy stillness, when Cotton, who had
followed his sergeant along the bank, raised a shout, and I leaped to my
feet, for something that circled with the current was drifting down
stream. We ran our hardest, and, for I was not strong yet, the others
were standing very silent, with tense faces and staring eyes, when I
rejoined them.

"Yon's Redmond," said Sergeant Mackay. "I was expecting him."

The object he pointed to slid slowly by abreast of us, and I felt a
shock of physical nausea as I stared at it. At that distance it was
without human semblance, a mere shapeless mass of sodden clothing, save
for the faint white glimmer of a face; but the shock gave place to a
fit of sullen fury. Heaven knows I cherished no anger against the
unfortunate man. Indeed, from the beginning, I had regarded him as a
mere helpless tool; but death had robbed me of my only weapon, and I
remembered Lane's prediction that Redmond would be of little use to me
if I found him.

"If one of ye has a lariat ye had better bring it," said Sergeant
Mackay.

We followed the object down stream. It floated slowly, now
half-submerged, now rising more buoyantly, with the blanched countenance
turned towards the murky heavens, out of which the light was fading,
until Steel, poising himself upon the bank, deftly flung a coupled
lariat. The noose upon its end took hold, and I shrank backwards when we
drew what it held ashore, for Redmond's face was ill to look upon, and
seemed to mock me with its staring eyes.

"Stan' clear!" said the sergeant, perhaps feeling speech of any kind
would be a relief, for nobody showed the least desire to crowd upon him.
"If it had not been for the regulations a drop of whisky would have been
acceptable, seeing that it's my painful duty to find out how he came by
his end."

The words were excusable, but there was no whisky forthcoming; and
though, perhaps, only one man in a hundred would have undertaken that
gruesome task, the sergeant went through it with the grim thoroughness
which characterized all his actions.

"There's no sign of a blow or bullet that I can find, and I'm thinking
only the Almighty knows whether he drowned himself or it was accidental
death. Ye can identify him, all of ye?"

We thought we could, but had been so intent that nobody noticed the
trampling of horses' hoofs until a wagon was drawn up close by, and
several riders reined in their beasts.

"Here's a man who ought to," said Steel. "Come down and swear to your
partner, Lane."

Turning, I saw my enemy start as he looked over the side of the wagon
at what lay before him. Every eye was fixed upon him, and Steel stood
quietly determined by the wheel.

"I'm in a hurry, and don't fill the post of coroner," the former said.

"Will you come down?" Steel added; and there was a low growl from the
assembly, while Lane shrank back from that side of the vehicle. "I guess
it's certain this man was the last to see Redmond alive."

"Drive on!" said Lane to the teamster; but the man hesitated, while,
when his employer snatched up the reins, there was another murmur deeper
than before, and mounted men closed about the wagon, their figures
cutting blackly against the fading light. Why they were journeying
homewards in such company I did not learn, but, overtaking it, they had
perhaps ridden beside the wagon for the purpose of expressing their
frank opinion of its occupant.

"Ye cannot pass until ye have answered my questions," said Sergeant
Mackay. "If he does not dismount ye have authority to help him, Steel.
Ye will hold the horses, Trooper Cotton."

Lane slowly climbed down the wheel, and neither Mackay nor Cotton
interfered when, as he showed signs of remaining at the foot of it,
Steel's hand closed firmly on his neck and forced him forwards,
apparently much against his wishes. Then the ruined farmer held him,
protesting savagely, beside the body of his victim. It was, in its own
way, an impressive scene--the erect, soldierly figures of the uniformed
troopers, the circle of silent mounted men, who moved only to sooth
their uneasy horses, and the white-faced man who shivered visibly as he
looked down at the sodden heap at his feet. There was also, even had the
two been strangers, ample excuse for him.

"While protesting that this is an outrage, I am ready to answer your
questions," he said huskily.

"Who is this man? Did ye know him?" asked the sergeant, whose face
remained woodenly impassive.

"Rancher Redmond, by his clothing," was the answer. "Yes; if necessary,
I think I could swear to him." And the sergeant asked again: "When and
where did ye last see him?"

"In the birch _coulée_, at dusk, three weeks past Tuesday. That would
make it----" But the financier seemed unable to work out the simple sum,
and concluded: "You can figure the date for yourself."

"What business had ye with him?" and the sergeant smiled dryly at the
answer: "That does not concern you."

"Maybe no. If ye have good reasons for not telling I will not press ye,
though ye may be called upon to speak plainly. Do ye know how he came
into the river?"

"No," said Lane, a trifle too vehemently.

"Do ye know of any reason why he should have drowned himself?" And Lane
turned upon the questioner savagely:

"I'll make you all suffer for your inference! Why should I know? I
challenge the right of anyone but a coroner to detain me."

"I'll let ye see my authority at the station if I find it necessary to
take ye there," said the sergeant grimly. "Noo will ye answer? Do ye
know why this man ye had dealings with should wish to destroy himself?"

"You're presuming a good deal," was the answer; and Lane's face grew
malevolent as he glanced at Steel and me. "How do you know he did
destroy himself, anyway; and if he did, I guess it's an open secret he
had trouble with Ormesby and Steel."

I sprang forward, but Cotton laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and there
was a threatening ejaculation from one of the bystanders. "Well, to
satisfy you, I solemnly declare I am in no way connected with what has
befallen the deceased rancher, and know of no reason why he should have
attempted his life. This isn't a court; but because I'm in a hurry, and
to stop chattering tongues, I call heaven to witness it is the truth."

I believed that, after a villainous attempt to divert suspicion to me,
the man was deliberately perjuring himself, and several of the
bystanders must have believed it, too. Most of them were not wholly free
from superstition, and their faces were almost expectant as they stood
strung up and intent about the dead man under the deepening gloom. Then
a flicker of pale lightning filled the hollow. Each face was lit up for
a second, and Lane's was livid; and, when the flash faded, the dusk
seemed to deepen suddenly, and a boom of distant thunder rolled from
swelling level to level across the prairie. Thunder had been very
frequent during the last few weeks, but the listeners seemed to find the
coincidence significant.

"Ye can pass," said the sergeant, whose voice seemed a trifle unsteady.
"But it will be on horseback, and we may want ye later. Lardeau--it's a
charity--ye will lend Redmond the wagon."

"You can't have it," said Lane. "I have a long journey before me and a
rheumatic thigh. If you take the wagon I hired what am I to do?"

"You can ride with Redmond. His house is on your way, and you can't hurt
him, anyway. The poor devil's beyond you now," said a stern voice; and
Lane, who allowed the teamster to help him onto one of the horses which
was replaced, departed hurriedly.

"I congratulate ye," said Sergeant Mackay significantly. "He was a
fellow-creature, boys. Who'll help me lift him in? We will e'en need the
same service ourselves some day."

I shuddered, but took my place with Steel among the rest; and when the
task was accomplished, the latter expressed both our feelings as he
said: "I wouldn't for five hundred dollars do that again; but it seemed
the poor devil's due after what we said about him. I guess he wasn't
quite responsible, and was driven to it; but, when it comes to the
reckoning, God help the man who drove him."

It was dark when we gained the level and followed the creaking wagon
that jolted before us across the prairie. Few words were spoken. A low
rumbling of thunder rolled across the great emptiness, while now and
then a pale blue flash fell athwart the lathered horses and set faces of
the men. "The beasts," said one big farmer, "know considerably more than
they can tell. Look at the near one sweating! I guess they find Redmond
or the load he's carrying mighty heavy."

"Then," added another voice, which broke harshly through the thuds of
hoofs, "ten teams wouldn't move the man who rode away."

The ways of the prairie dwellers are in some respects modern and crudely
new; but the Highland servants of the Hudson's Bay Company and the
French half-breed _voyageur_ have between them left us a dowry of quaint
belief and superstition; and the growl of the thunder and the black
darkness made a due impression on most of those who brought Redmond
home. For my part I was thankful when a lonely log-house loomed up ahead
and the wagon came to a standstill. Four men, improvising a stretcher,
took up their burden, and halted as Sergeant Mackay and another, neither
of whom seemed to care about his errand, knocked on the door.

A young woman opened it, holding aloft a lamp, and under its uncertain
light her face showed drawn and pale. I breathed harder, and heard some
of those about me murmur compassionately, for she looked very frail and
young to bear what must follow. The sergeant's words did not reach us,
but a swift glare of blue flame, that left us dazzled, broke in upon
them. The whole space about the building was flooded with temporary
brilliancy, and Redmond's daughter must have seen us standing about the
wagon and the bearers waiting, for she dropped the lantern (which Mackay
seized in time), and caught at the logs which framed the door as if for
support. A minute must have passed before the slight form once more
stood erect upon the threshold.

"Mackay thinks of everything," Steel said in my ear. "He sent Gordon off
to bring his wife along. There's only the half-breed here, and she'll
need a white woman with her to-night, poor soul."

"Bring him in," said a low voice; and before the sergeant could prevent
her, the speaker, snatching up the lantern, moved forward to meet the
bearers. It was no sight for young eyes, and I saw Steel shudder; but
there was wild Erse blood in the girl, and, holding one arm up, she
stood erect, facing us again.

"This was my father, and he was a kind man to me," she said, with a
choking gasp that was not a sob, and from which her voice broke high and
shrill. "For the sake of a few acres and cattle he was driven to his
death, and may black sorrow follow the man who ruined him. Sorrow and
bitterness, with the fear that will drive sleep from him and waste him
blood and bone until he takes the curse of the widow and orphan with him
into the flame of hell!"

Then the eerie voice sank again, and it was with a strange dignity she
concluded: "I thank you, neighbors. You can bring him in."

Another paler flash lit up the prairie as they carried Redmond in, and,
when a wagon came bouncing up to the fence, Steel said: "Here's Mrs.
Gordon; they have lost no time. Are you coming back, Ormesby? I've had
about enough of this."

I had no wish to linger, and when we rode homewards through the deluge
that now thrashed our faces, the sergeant, who overtook us, said: "Man,
I feel creepy! She's no' quite canny, and yon was awesome."

"It was impressive; but you can't attach much importance to that poor
girl's half-distracted raving," I said, partly to convince myself.

"Maybe no," said Sergeant Mackay. "Superstition, ye say; but I'm
thinking there's a judgment here as well as hereafter, and I'd no' care
to carry yon curse about with me."




CHAPTER IX

A PRAIRIE STUDY


So Redmond came home, and we buried him the following night by
torchlight on a desolate ridge of the prairie. It was his daughter who
ordered this; and if some of those who held aloft the flaming tow
guessed his secret they kept it for the sake of the girl who stood with
a stony, tearless face beside the open grave. He had doubtless yielded
to strong compulsion when driven into a corner from which, for one of
his nature, there was no escape, and now that he was dead, I had
transferred my score against him to the debit of the usurer. As we rode
home after the funeral I said something of the kind to Steel, who agreed
with me.

"If you concluded to try it, Thorn and Jo and I, taking our affidavits
as to what we saw that night, might make out a case for you; but I don't
know that we could fix it on Lane, and it strikes me as mean to drag a
dead man into the fuss for nothing," he said. "Redmond has gone to a
place where he can't testify, but he has left his daughter, and she
already has about all she can stand."

"Strikes me that way, too; and Lane's too smart to be corraled," added
Thorn.

"We'll get even somehow without Redmond, and to that end you two will
have to run Gaspard's Trail," I said. "I'm going down to Montreal with
Carolan's cattle."

A project had for some little time been shaping itself in my mind. I had
a small reversionary interest in some English property, and though it
would be long before a penny of it could accrue to me, it seemed just
possible to raise a little money on it. Considering Western rates of
interest, nobody in Winnipeg would trouble with such an investment, but
I had a distant and prosperous kinsman in Montreal who might find some
speculator willing. Montreal was, however, at least two thousand miles
away, and traveling expensive; but the Carolan brothers had promptly
accepted my offer to take charge of their cattle destined for Europe,
which implied free passes both ways. It was not the mode of traveling
one would have expected a prosperous rancher to adopt, but I needed
every available dollar for the approaching struggle, and was well
content when, after the untamed stock had nearly wrecked the railroad
depot, we got them on board the cars.

The only time I ever saw Sergeant Mackay thoroughly disconcerted was
that morning. We came up out of the empty prairie riding on the flanks
of the herd. The beasts had suffered from the scarcity of water and were
in an uncertain temper, while, as luck would have it, just as they
surged close-packed between the bare frame houses, Mackay and a trooper
came riding down the unpaved street of the little prairie town. There
was no opening either to right or to left, and the more prudent
storekeepers put up their shutters.

"Look as if they owned the universe, them police," said the man who
cantered up beside me. "Sure, it would take the starch out of them if
anything did start the cattle."

Mackay pulled up his horse and looked dubiously at the mass of tossing
horns rolling towards him. "'Tis not in accordance with regulations to
turn a big draft loose on a peaceful town. Why did ye not split them
up?" he said. "Ye could be held responsible if there's damage done."

"I'm afraid these beasts don't understand regulations, and I had to
bring them as best I could," I answered; and my assistant shouted, "Get
out of the daylight, sergeant, dear, while your shoes are good."

Mackay seemed to resent this familiarity, and sat still, with one hand
on his hip, an incarnation of official dignity, though he kept his eyes
upon the fast advancing herd until the big freight locomotive which was
awaiting us set up a discordant shrieking, and backed a row of clanging
cars across the switches. That was sufficient for the untamed cattle.
With a thunder of pounding hoofs they poured tumultuously down the
rutted street, and I caught a brief glimpse of the sergeant hurriedly
wheeling his horse before everything was blotted out by the stirred-up
dust. The streets of a prairie town are inches deep in powdered loam all
summer and in bottomless sloughs all spring.

A wild shout of "Faugh-a-ballagh!" rang out; and I found myself riding
faster than was prudent along the crazy plank sidewalk to pass and, if
possible, swing the stampeding herd into the railroad corral. How my
horse gained the three-foot elevation and avoided falling over the
dry-goods bales and flour bags which lay littered everywhere, I do not
remember; but my chief assistant, Dennis, who, yelling his hardest,
charged recklessly down the opposite one, afterwards declared that his
beast climbed up the steps like a kitten. Then, as I drew a little
ahead, Mackay became dimly visible, riding bareheaded, as though for his
life, with the horns, that showed through the tossed-up grit, a few
yards behind him. Fortunately the stockyard gates were open wide, and
Dennis came up at a gallop in time to head the herd off from a charge
across the prairie, while a second man and I turned their opposite wing.
Mackay did his best to wheel his horse clear of the gates, but the beast
was evidently bent on getting as far as possible from the oncoming mass,
and resisted bit and spur. Then there was a great roar of laughter from
loungers and stockyard hands as the dust swept up towards heaven and the
drove thundered through the opening.

"Where's the sergeant?" I shouted; and Dennis, who chuckled so that his
speech was thick, made answer: "Sure, he's in the corral. The beasts
have run him in, but it's mighty tough beef they'd find him in the old
country."

Dennis was right, for when the haze thinned the sergeant appeared, as
white as a miller, flattened up against the rails, while a playful steer
curveted in the vicinity, as though considering where to charge him. He
was extricated by pulling down the rails, and accepted my apologies
stiffly.

"This," he said, disregarding the offer of a lounger to wash him under
the locomotive tank, "is not just what I would have expected of ye,
Rancher Ormesby."

While the stock were being transferred to the cars amid an almost
indescribable tumult, I met Miss Redmond on the little sod platform.

"I am glad I have met you, because I am going to Winnipeg, and may never
see you again," she said. "There is much I do not understand, but I feel
you have been wronged, and want to thank you for your consideration."

Redmond's daughter had received some training in an Eastern convent, it
was said, and I found it hard to believe that the very pale,
quietly-spoken girl was the one who had called down the curses upon
Foster Lane. Still, I knew there was a strain of something akin to
insanity in that family, and that, in addition, she was of the changeful
nature which accompanies pure Celtic blood.

"You should not indulge in morbid fancies, and you have very little
cause for gratitude. We were sincerely sorry for you, and tried to do
what we could," I said.

Ailin Redmond fixed her black eyes intently upon me, and I grew uneasy,
seeing what suggested a smoldering fire in them. "You are not clever
enough to deceive a woman," she said, with a disconcerting composure. "I
do not know all, but perhaps I shall some day, and then, whatever it
costs me, you and another person shall see justice done. It may not be
for a long time, but I can wait; and I am going away from the prairie.
Still, I should like to ask you one question--how did your cattle get
inside the fence?"

"The fire drove them; but instead of fretting over such things, you must
try to forget the last two months as soon as possible," I answered as
stoutly as I could, seeking meanwhile an excuse for flight, which was
not lacking. "Those beasts will kill somebody if I neglect them any
longer."

Ailin Redmond held out her hand to me, saying very quietly: "I shall
never forget, and--it is no use protesting--a time will come when I
shall understand it all clearly. Until then may the good saints protect
you from all further evil, Rancher Ormesby."

As I hurried away a tented wagon lurched into the station, and when I
last saw Redmond's daughter she stood near the lonely end of the
platform talking earnestly with the traveling photographer.

Dennis had not recovered from his merriment when, much to the
satisfaction of those we left behind, the long cars rolled out of the
station, while many agents remembered our visit to the stations which
succeeded. Blinding dust and fragments of ballast whirled about the cars
as the huge locomotive hauled them rocking over the limitless levels.
From sunrise to sunset the gaunt telegraph poles reeled up from the
receding horizon, growing from the size of matches to towering spars as
they came, and then slowly diminishing far down the straight-ruled line
again. For hours we lay on side-tracks waiting until one of the great
inter-ocean expresses, running their portion of the race round half the
globe, thundered past, white with the dust of a fifteen-hundred-mile
journey, and then, with cars and cattle complaining, we lurched on our
way again.

At times we led the beasts out in detachments to water at wayside
stations, and there was usually much profanity and destruction of
property before we got them back again, and left the agent to assess the
damage to his feelings, besides splintered gangways and broken rails. It
was at Portage or Brandon, I think, that one showed me a warning
received by wire. "Through freight full of wild beasts coming along.
There'll be nothing left of your station if you let the lunatics in
charge of them turn their menagerie out."

The beasts had, however, grown more subdued before the cars rolled
slowly into Winnipeg, and gave us little trouble when, leaving the
prairie behind, we sped, eastwards ever, past broad lake and foaming
river, into the muskegs of Ontario; so that I had time for reflection
when the great locomotive, panting on the grades, hauled us, poised
giddily between crag face and deep blue water, along the Superior shore.
The Haldanes were in Montreal, and I wondered, in case chance threw me
in their way, how they would greet me, and what I should say. I was
apparently a prosperous rancher when they last spoke with me, and a
tender of other men's cattle now, while it might well happen that in
their eyes a further cloud rested upon me.

The long and weary journey came to an end at last, and when the big
engines ceased their panting beside the broad St. Lawrence I left Dennis
and his companions to divert themselves in Montreal after the fashion of
their kind, and, arraying myself in civilized fashion, proceeded to my
relative's offices.

A clerk said that Mr. Leyland, who was absent, desired me to follow him
to his autumn retreat, but I first set about the business which had
brought me, unassisted. Nobody, however, would entertain the species of
investment I had to propose, and it was with a heavy heart I boarded the
cars again some days later.

Leyland and his wife appeared unaffectedly glad to see me at their
pretty summer-house, which stood above the smooth white shingle fringing
a wide lake, and at sunset that evening I lay smoking among the boulders
of a point, while his son and heir sat close by interrogating me. Part
of the lake still reflected the afterglow, and after the monotonous
levels of the prairie it rested my eyes to see the climbing pines tower
above it in shadowy majesty. Their drowsy scent was soothing, and
through the dusk that crept towards me from their feet, blinking lights
cast trembling reflections across the glassy water. Several prosperous
citizens retired at times to spend their leisure in what they termed
camping on the islets of that lake.

"Air you poor and wicked?" asked the urchin, inspecting me critically.

"Very poor, and about up to the average for iniquity," I said; and the
diminutive questioner rubbed his curly locks as though puzzled.

"Well, you don't quite look neither," he commented. "Poor men don't wear
new store clothes. The last one I saw had big holes in his pants, and
hadn't eaten nothing for three weeks, he said. Pop, he spanked me good
'cos I gave him four dollars off'n the bureau to buy some dinner with.
Say, how long was it since you had a square meal, anyway? You did mighty
well at supper. I was watching you."

"It is about two months since I had a meal like that and then it was
because a friend of mine gave it to me," I answered truthfully; and
Leyland junior rubbed his head again.

"No--you don't look very low down, but you must be," he repeated. "Pop
was talking 'bout you, and he said: 'You'll do your best to see the poor
devil has a good time, 'Twoinette. From what I gather he needs it pretty
bad.'"

I laughed, perhaps somewhat hollowly, for the child commented: "Won't
you do that again? It's just like a loon. There's one lives over yonder,
and he might answer. Ma, she says people should never make a noise when
they laugh; but when I sent Ted on the roof to get my ball, and he fell
into the rain-butt, she just laughed worse than you, and her teeth came
out."

"Your mother would probably spank you for telling that to strangers. But
who is Ted?" I said, remembering that a loon is a water-bird that sets
up an unearthly shrieking in the stillness of the night; and the urchin
rebuked me with the cheerful disrespect for his seniors which
characterizes the Colonial born.

"Say, was you forgotten when brains were given out? He's just Ted Caryl,
and I think he's bad. Pop says his firm's meaner than road agents. He
comes round evenings and swops business lies with Pop, 'specially when
Bee is here, but he can't be clever. Ma says he don't even know enough
to be sure which girl he wants. They is two of them, and I like Lou
best."

"Why?" I asked, because the urchin seemed to expect some comment; and
he proceeded to convince me. "They is both pretty, but Lou is nicest. I
found it out one day I'd been eating corduroy candy, and Bee she just
dropped me when I got up on her knee. She didn't say anything, but she
looked considerable. Then I went to Lou, and she picked me up and gave
me nicer candies out of a gilt-edge box. Ma says she must have been an
angel, because her dress was all sticky, and I think she is. There was
one just like her with silver wings in the church at Sault Chaudiere.
One night Ma and them was talking 'bout you, and Bee sits quite still as
if she didn't care, but she was listening. Lou, she says: 'Poor----' I
don't think it was poor devil."

"Do you know where little boys who tell all they hear go to?" I asked;
and Leyland junior pointed to a dusky sail that showed up behind the
island before he answered wearily: "You make me tired. I've been asked
that one before. Here's Ted and the others coming. I'm off to see what
they have brought for me."

He vanished among the boulders, and, filling my pipe again, I kept
still, feeling no great inclination to take part in the casual chatter
of people with whose customs I had almost lost touch. I was struck by
the resemblance of the names the child mentioned to those of Haldane's
daughters, but both were tolerably common, and it did not please me that
Mrs. Leyland should make a story of my struggles for the amusement of
strangers. So some time had passed before I entered the veranda of the
little wooden house, and, as it was only partially lighted by a shaded
lamp, managed to find a place almost unobserved in a corner. Thus I had
time to recover from my surprise at the sight of Beatrice and Lucille
Haldane seated at a little table beneath the lamp. Two men I did not
know leaned against the balustrade close at hand, and several more were
partly distinguishable in the shadows. From where I sat some of the
figures were projected blackly against a field of azure and silver, for
the moon now hung above the lake. Beatrice Haldane was examining what
appeared to be a bound collection of photographic reproductions.

"Yes. As Mrs. Leyland mentions, I have met the original of this picture,
and it is a good one, though it owes something to the retoucher," she
said; and I saw my hostess smile wickedly at her husband when somebody
said: "Tell us about him. How interesting!"

Beatrice Haldane answered lightly: "There is not much to tell. The
allegorical title explains itself, if it refers to the edict that it is
by the sweat of his brow man shall earn his bread, which most of our
acquaintances seem to have evaded. The West is a hard, bare country, and
its inhabitants, though not wholly uncivilized, hard men. I should like
to send some of our amateur athletes to march or work with them. This
one is merely a characteristic specimen."

I wondered what the subject of the picture was, but waited an
opportunity to approach the speaker, while, as I did so, a young man
said: "I should rather like to take up your sister's challenge. Pulling
the big catboat across here inside an hour without an air of wind was
not exactly play; but can you tell us anything more about these tireless
Westerners, Miss Lucille?"

The younger girl, who sat quietly, with her hands in her lap, looked up.
"It is the fashion never to grow enthusiastic; but I am going to tell
you, Ted. Those men were always in real earnest, and that is why they
interested me; but I shouldn't take up the challenge if I were you. We
call this camping. They lie down to sleep on many a journey in a snow
trench under the arctic frost, ride as carelessly through blinding
blizzard as summer heat, and, I concluded, generally work all day and
half the night. They are not hard in any other sense, but very generous,
though they sometimes speak, as they live, very plainly."

Some of the listeners appeared amused, others half-inclined to applaud
the girl, and there was a little laughter when Miss Haldane interposed:
"This is my sister's hobby. Some of them, you may remember, seem to live
upon gophers, Lucille."

Lucille Haldane did not appear pleased at this interruption; but the
flush of animation and luster in her eyes wonderfully became her. "I do
not know that even gophers would be worse than the canned goose livers
and other disgusting things we import for their weight in silver," she
said. "All I saw in the West pleased me, and, because I am a Canadian
first and last, I don't mind being smiled at for admitting that I am
very glad I have seen the men who live there at their work. They are
doing a great deal for our country."

"They could not have a stancher or prettier champion, my dear," said a
gray-haired man who sat near me. "It would be hard to grow equally
enthusiastic about your profession, Ted."

"It is Miss Haldane's genius which makes the most of everybody's good
points," answered a young man with a frank face and stalwart appearance,
turning towards me. "I am afraid the rest of us would see only a tired
and dusty farmer who looked as though twelve hours' sleep would be good
for him. What's your idea of the West? If I remember Mrs. Leyland
correctly, you come from the land of promise, don't you?"

"We certainly work tolerably hard out there, but it is no great credit
to us when we have to choose between that and starvation; and the West
is the land of disappointment as well as promise," I answered dryly.

The rest glanced around in our direction, and Mrs. Leyland laughed
mischievously. "If any of you are really interested, my friend here, who
came in so quietly, would, I dare say, answer your questions. Let me
present you, Rancher Ormesby."

I bowed as, endeavoring to remember the names that followed, I moved
towards the chair beside her when she beckoned. It lay full in the
light, and I noticed blank surprise in the faces turned towards me.
Beatrice Haldane dropped the album, and for some reason the clear rose
color surged upwards from her sister's neck. I stooped to recover the
book, which lay open, and then stared at it with astonishment and
indignation, for the face of the man standing beside a weary team,
waist-deep in the tall grass of a slough, was unmistakably my own. I
had forgotten the click of the camera shutter that hot morning.

"It was hardly fair of my hostess not to warn me, and this print was
published without my knowledge or consent," I said. "Still, it shows how
we earn a living in my country, and I can really tell you little more.
We resemble most other people in that we chiefly exert ourselves under
pressure of necessity--and one would prefer to forget that fact during a
brief holiday."

The listeners either smiled or nodded good-humoredly and it was Lucille
Haldane who held out her hand to me, while her elder sister returned my
salutation with a civility which was distinct from cordiality. How Mrs.
Leyland changed the situation I do not remember, nor how, when some of
the party were inspecting fire-flies in the grasses by the lake, I found
myself beside Beatrice Haldane at the end of the veranda. I had schooled
myself in preparation for a possible meeting, but she looked so
beautiful with the moonlight on her that I spoke rashly.

"We parted good friends--but no one could have hoped you felt the
slightest pleasure at the present meeting."

"Frankness is sometimes irksome to both speaker and listener," said the
girl, turning her dark eyes upon me steadily. "Can you not be satisfied
with the possibility of your being mistaken?"

"No," I answered doggedly, and she smiled. "Then suppose one admitted
you had surmised correctly?"

"I should ask the cause," and Beatrice Haldane, saying nothing, looked a
warning, which, being filled with an insane bitterness, I would not
take. "It would hurt me to conclude that those you honored with your
friendship on the prairie would be less welcome here."

She raised her head a little with the Haldane's pride, which, though
never paraded, was unmistakable. "You should have learned to know us
better. Neither your prosperity nor the reverse would have made any
difference."

"Then is there no explanation?" I asked, forgetting everything under the
strain of the moment; and it was evident that Beatrice Haldane shared
her sister's courage, for, though there was a darker spot in the center
of her cheek she answered steadily: "There is. We are disappointed in
you, Rancher Ormesby."

Then, without another word, she turned away, and presently the rattle of
oars and a gleam of moonlit canvas told that the catboat was returning
across the lake.

"I hope you have enjoyed the meeting with your friends," said Mrs.
Leyland, presently. "Very much, I assure you," I answered, with an
effort which I hope will be forgiven me.




CHAPTER X

A TEMPTATION


Leyland had a weakness for what he termed hardening himself by
occasional feats of endurance, from which it resulted that I spent
several days in his company wandering, with a wholly unnecessary load of
camp gear upon my back, through a desolation of uncomfortably wooded
hills. Now it is not easy for a business man of domesticated habits to
emulate a pack mule and enjoy the proceeding, and when Mrs. Leyland,
after burdening her husband with everything she could think of, desired
to add a small tin bath, there was little difficulty in predicting that
our journey would not be extensive. Having a load of fifty pounds
already, I ignored the suggestion that I might carry the bath, and
hurried Leyland off before his spouse could further hamper us. One thick
blanket, a kettle, and a few pounds of provisions would have amply
sufficed, so a large-sized tent seemed to be distinctly superfluous, to
say nothing of the bag filled with hair-brushes, towels, and scented
soap.

Leyland commenced the march with enthusiasm, and certainly presented a
picturesque appearance as he plodded along in leather jacket and fringed
leggings, with the folded tent upon his shoulders and a collection of
tin utensils jingling about him. I was somewhat similarly caparisoned,
and, because it would have hurt his feelings, I overcame the temptation
to fling half my load into a creek we crossed, though this would have
greatly pleased me. A fourth of the weight would have sufficed for a
two-hundred-mile journey in the West.

"There is nothing like judicious exercise for bracing one's whole
system," panted my companion, when we had covered the first league in
two hours or so. "How a wide prospect like this rests the vision. Say,
can't we sit down and enjoy it a little?"

I nodded agreement, and we spent most of that day in sitting down and
smoking, while, as it happened, a sudden breeze blew the tent over upon
us at midnight, and anybody who has crawled clear of the thrashing
canvas in such circumstances can guess what followed. Leyland, as
generally happens, wriggled headforemost into what might be termed the
pocket of the net, and it cost me some trouble to extricate him. Next
morning he awoke with a toothache and general shortness of temper, as a
result of trying to sleep in the rain, and appeared much less certain
about the benefits to be derived from such excursions.

"If you will let me pick out the few things we really want and throw the
rest away, I'll engage that you will enjoy the remainder of the march,"
I said.

"I wish I could, but it can't be done," and Leyland, staring ruefully at
his load, shook his head. "'Twoinette's so--so blamed systematic, and if
one of those brushes was missing she'd have to start in from the
beginning with a whole new toilet outfit. Of course, you don't
understand these things yet, but you will some day. A wife with cultured
tastes requires to be considered accordingly."

I was resting on one elbow gazing up between the pine branches at the
blue of the sky, with the clean-scented needles crackling under me, and
made no answer. Nevertheless, it struck me that I might find too much
culture irksome, especially if it implied that I must carry half my
household sundries upon my back whenever I started on an expedition.
Hitherto I had not considered this side of the question when indulging
in certain roseate visions, but as Leyland spoke there opened up
unpleasant possibilities of having to stand by, a mere director, clear
of the heat and dust of effort, and pay others to do the work I found
pleasure in. Then as I reflected that there was small need to trouble
about such eventualities, a face, that was not Beatrice Haldane's, rose
up before my fancy. It was forceful as well as pretty, quick to express
sympathy and enthusiasm; and I decided that the man who won Lucille
Haldane would have a helpmate who would encourage instead of restrain
his energies, and, if need be, take her place beside him in the
struggle. Then I dismissed the subject as having nothing to do with me.

Leyland seemed loath to resume his rambles, and on the following
morning, after he had, I fancy, lain awake abusing the mosquitoes all
night, his patience broke down. "I'm getting too old to enjoy this
description of picnic as I used to," he said. "The fact is, if I mule
this confounded bric-à-brac around much longer I shall drop in my
tracks."

"Shall we turn back?" I asked him.

The tired man shook his head. "We'll strike for water, and if we can't
find a canoe anywhere you can build a raft. I wouldn't crawl through any
more of those muskegs for a thousand dollars."

I had no objections, and Leyland's comments became venomous during the
march, for the lake was distant, and the pine woods thick. He fell into
thickets, and shed his burden broadcast across the face of each steeper
descent, so that it cost us many minutes to collect it again, and once
we spent an hour in the mire of a muskeg on hands and knees in search of
a vine-pattern mustard spoon. Leyland, who became profane during the
proceedings, said his wife might consider that its loss would destroy
the harmony of a whole dinner service. At last, however--my comrade,
panting heavily, and progressing with a crab-like gait, because he had
wrenched one knee and blistered a heel--the broad lake showed up beneath
the blazing maple leaves ahead. They were donning their full glories of
gold and crimson before the coming of the frost.

"Thank heaven!" said Leyland with fervent sincerity. "I'll sit here
forever unless you can find something that will float me home."

He limped on until we were clear of the trees, and then flung himself
down among the boulders with a gasp of relief, for fortune had treated
him kindly. There was a fresh breeze blowing, and the broad stretch of
water was streaked by lines of frothy white; but we had come out upon a
sheltered bay, and a big catboat lay moored beneath a ledge. A group of
figures rose from about a crackling fire, there was a shout of
recognition, and the young man I had been introduced to as Ted Caryl
came forward to greet us.

"Just in time! The kettle's boiling; but have you been practicing for a
strong-man circus, Leyland?" he said. My companion, still retaining his
recumbent position, answered dryly: "I have been taking exercise and
diverting myself."

"So one might have fancied from your exhilarated appearance," commented
Caryl. "We can give you a passage home by water if you have had enough
of it."

"I'll go no other way if I have to swim," said Leyland grimly.

Then the younger man turned to me: "Do you happen to know anything about
seamanship?"

"I spent all my spare time as a youngster helping to sail small craft on
the English coast, and was considered a fair helmsman for my age," I
said; and Caryl patted my shoulder approvingly.

"It's a mercy, because I know just next to nothing. Put up as a yacht
club member, and bought this craft--she's a daisy--for five hundred
dollars to give the girls a sail. Brought them down, with a light fair
wind, smart enough, but though it's gone round, the thing don't steer
the way she ought to in a breeze. So I've been getting mighty anxious as
to how I'm to take them home again, and feel too scared to say so."

I looked at the craft, which was a half-decked boat, evidently fitted
with a center-board, of the broad-beamed shallow type common on the
American coast. She carried no bowsprit, her lofty mast was stepped
almost in her bows, and the combination of heavy spars, short body, and
wide, flat stern, presaged difficulties for an unskilled helmsman when
running before any strength of breeze. "I think you have some reason for
your misgivings," I said. "If the wind freshens much I should almost
recommend you to camp here all night."

We had by this time approached the fire, and I noticed, with a slight
inward hesitation, that Haldane's daughter and an elderly lady were busy
preparing tea. Perhaps it was this which prevented Beatrice from
noticing me, but Lucille came forward and greeted us. "You have arrived
at an opportune moment. Supper is just about ready, and if it is not so
good as the one you gave us at Gaspard's Trail, we will try to do our
best for you," she said.

"Have you not forgotten that evening yet?" I asked. A transitory
expression I did not quite comprehend became visible in the girl's face
when she answered my smile. It was pleasant to think she recalled the
evening of which I had not forgotten the smallest incident.

"It was something so new to me, and you were all so kind," she said.

There was dismay when Caryl announced my opinion, though the rest
decided to postpone a decision in the hope that the weather might
improve, and it seemed useless to inform them that the reverse appeared
more probable. A pine forest rolled down to the water's edge, and when
the meal had been dispatched I lounged with my back against a tree, when
Leyland came up. "You look uncommonly lazy--more played out than I. We
want you to enjoy your stay with us, and I hope I have not tired you,"
he said.

I laughed a little, because Leyland was hardly likely to tire any man
fresh from the arduous life of the prairie. "It's an oasis in the
desert, and you have made me so comfortable that I shall almost shrink
from going back," I said, truthfully enough; for, before I left, the
strain at Gaspard's Trail had grown acute.

"Then what do you want to go back for, anyway?" asked Leyland, who
during the afternoon had made several pertinent inquiries concerning my
affairs. "There are chances for a live man in the cities--in fact I know
of one or two. No doubt for a time it's experience, but it strikes me
that this cattle roasting and losing of grain crops must mean a big loss
of opportunities as well as grow monotonous."

Leyland, I fancied, had not previously noticed that Miss Haldane was
seated on a fallen log close beside us, and in the circumstances I was
by no means pleased when he turned to her. "Don't you think everybody
should make the most of all that's in them?" he asked.

Somewhat to my surprise the girl looked straight at me as she answered:
"Considering the question in the abstract, I agree with you. It seems to
me the duty of every man with talents to take the place he was meant for
among his peers instead of frittering them away."

There was an unusual earnestness in what she said, which both surprised
me and reminded me of the days in England; for Beatrice Haldane's
conversation had latterly been marked by a somewhat cynical languidness.
Nevertheless, the inference nettled me.

"Talent is a somewhat vague term; but suppose any unprofessional person
possessed it, what career among the thick of his fellows would you
recommend--the acquisition of money on the markets, or politics? Both
are closed to the poor man," I said.

It may have been fancy, but a faint angry sparkle seemed to creep into
Miss Haldane's eyes as she answered: "Are there no others? It seems to
me the place for such a person is where civilization moves fastest in
the cities. Whether we progress towards good or evil you cannot move
back the times, and it is force of intellect, or successful scheming if
you will, which commands the best the world can offer now. As an outside
observer, it seems to me that, considering the tendency towards
centralization and combinations of capital, the individual who, refusing
to accept the altered conditions, insists on remaining an independent
unit, must soon go under or take a helot's place. Don't you think so,
Mr. Leyland?"

"That's what I mean, but you have put it more clearly," said Leyland
approvingly. "I was hoping Ormesby might see it that way."

Understanding my host's manner I guessed that if I hinted at
acquiescence this would lead up to a definite offer, and it appeared
that both, in their own way, were bent on persuading me. The temptation
was alluring, when disaster appeared imminent, and I afterwards wondered
how it was I did not yield. Wounded pride or sheer obstinacy may,
however, have restrained me, for one of the most bitter things is to own
one's self beaten; but even then I felt that my place was on the
prairie. On the one hand there was only the prospect of grinding care
and often brutal labor, which wore the body to exhaustion and blunted
the mental faculties; on the other, at least some rest and leisure,
contact with culture and refinement, and perhaps even yet a vague
possibility of drawing nearer to the woman beside me. At that moment,
however, Lucille Haldane halted in front of us, and the trifling
incident helped to turn the scale. Young as she was, her views were
mine, and for some unfathomable reason I shook off what seemed a weak
tendency to yield when I met her gaze.

"It will be a bad day for the Dominion when what is happening across the
frontier becomes general here," I said. "It is the number of independent
units which makes for the real prosperity of this country, and the
suggestion that there is only scope for intellect and force of will in
the cities can hardly pass unchallenged. The smallest wheat grower has
to use the same foresight in his degree as a railroad financier, and it
probably requires more stamina to hold out against bad seasons and the
oppression of scheming land-grabbers than is requisite, say, in
engineering a grain corner against adverse markets. Then, if one gets
back to principles, does it not appear that the poorest breaker of
virgin land who calls wheat up out of the idle sod is of more use to the
community than the gambler in his produce who creates nothing?"

"There is no use arguing with any man who thinks that way," said Leyland
solemnly, and Beatrice Haldane laughed; but whether at his comment or at
my opinion did not appear.

"Here is an ally for you. You are looking very wise, Lucille," she said
languidly.

"I did not hear all you said, but I think Mr. Ormesby is partly right,"
was the frank answer. "I just stopped on my way to the boat to get some
wrappings. It soon grows chilly."

The girl refused our offers of assistance. Somebody called Leyland away,
and I was left alone, possibly against both our wishes, in Beatrice
Haldane's company. Still, it was an opportunity that might not occur
again, and I determined to turn it to good account.

"Although you expressed strong disapproval not long ago, one could have
fancied you were not speaking from a wholly impersonal standpoint and
meant to give me good advice," I said.

The spirit which had carried Haldane triumphantly through commercial
panic was not lacking in either of his daughters, and the elder one
quietly took up the challenge. "Perhaps the other could not be thrust
aside, and I have wondered whether you are wise in staking all your
future on the chances of success on the prairie. There are greater
possibilities in the busy world that lies before you now, but presently
habit and the force of associations will bind you to the soil, and you
must remain a raiser of cattle and sower of grain. Is it not possible
for the monotony and drudgery to drag one down to a steadily sinking
level?"

The words stung me. I had done my best in my vocation, and it seemed had
failed therein. Neither was it impossible that the last sentence
possessed a definite meaning, and suppressed longing and resentment
against the pressure of circumstances held me silent after I had managed
to check the rash answer that rose to my lips. Then a shout broke
through the pause which followed, and Beatrice Haldane sprang to her
feet. "Lucille has set the boat adrift! Go and help her if you can!" she
said.

A glance showed me the catboat sliding out towards open water before the
angry white ripples that crisped the little bay, for here the wind,
deflected by a hollow, blew freshly off-shore. A slight white-clad
figure stood on the fore deck, and I shouted: "Jump down and fling the
anchor over!"

"There is no anchor!" the answer reached me faintly; and I set off
across a strip of shingle and boulders at a floundering run.

The rest of the company were gathered in dismay upon a rocky ledge when
I came up, and Caryl tore off his jacket. Leyland turned to me, with
consternation in his face, as he said: "Ted must have tied some fool
knot and she's blowing right out across the lake. None of us can swim."

"It's my fault, and I'm going to try, anyway. The water cannot be deep
inside here," gasped the valiant Caryl.

I saw that, for inland waters, a tolerable sea was running where the
true wind blew straight down the lake, sufficient to endanger the
catboat if she drifted without control athwart it. There was evidently
no time to lose, and I turned angrily upon Caryl. "If you jump in here
you will certainly drown, and that will help nobody," I said.

Then, seeing some feet of water below the ledge, I launched myself out
headforemost. The ripples ran white behind me when I rose, and there was
no great difficulty in swimming down-wind, even when cumbered by
clothing; but the boat's side and mast exposed considerable surface to
the blast, and she had blown some distance to leeward before I overtook
her. It also cost me time and labor to crawl on board--an operation
difficult in deep water--but it was accomplished, and, turning to the
girl, I said cheerfully: "You need not be frightened. We shall beat back
in a few minutes if you will help me."

Lucille Haldane showed the courage she had showed one snowy night at
Bonaventure, for there was confidence in her face as she answered: "I
will do whatever you tell me, and I'm not in the least afraid."




CHAPTER XI

IN PERIL OF THE WATERS


Again I hazarded a glance about me. The shallow-draughted craft had
already drifted a distance off-shore, and was listing over under the
pressure of the wind upon her lofty mast. The white ripples had grown to
short angry surges, and because darkness was approaching and the narrow
bay difficult to work into, it was evident we must lose no time in
getting back again. There was no anchor on board, and if I reefed the
sail (or rolled up the foot of it to reduce the area) the boat would
meanwhile increase her distance from the beach. It therefore seemed
necessary to attempt to thrash back under the whole mainsail.

"Will you shove the centerboard down by the iron handle, and then take
hold of the tiller, Miss Haldane?" I said.

The girl, stooping, thrust at the handle projecting from the trunk
containing the drawn-up center keel. The iron plate should have dropped
at a touch, but did not, and I sprang to her side when she said:
"Something must be holding it fast."

She was right. Caryl had either bent the plate by striking a rock or a
piece of driftwood had jammed into the opening, for, do what I would,
the iron refused to fall more than a third of its proper distance, and
it was with a slight shock of dismay I relinquished the struggle. A
sailing craft of any description will only work to windward in zigzags
diagonally to the breeze, and then only provided there is enough of her
under water to provide lateral resistance, which the deep center keel
should have supplied. As it was, I must attempt to remedy the deficiency
by press of canvas at the risk of a capsize.

Fortunately my companion was quick-witted and cool, and, standing at
the helm, followed my instructions promptly, while I dragged at the
halliards, and the loose folds of sailcloth rose thrashing overhead. I
was breathless when the sail was set, but sprang aft to the helm, lifted
the girl to the weather deck, and perched myself as high on that side as
I could, with the mainsheet round my left wrist and my right hand on the
tiller, wondering if the mast would bear the strain. The boat swayed
down until her leeward deck was buried in a rush of foam and her bending
mast slanted half way to the horizontal. Little clouds of spray shot up
from her weather bow as, gathering way, she swept ahead, and then they
gave place to sheets of water, which lashed our faces, and, sluicing
deep along the decks, poured over the coaming ledge into the open well.
Still, we were in comparatively smooth water where one could risk a
little, and while the straining mainsheet, which I dare not make fast,
sawed into my wrist, I glanced at my companion. Her hat was
sodden--already her hair clung in soaked clusters to her forehead, and
her wet face showed white against the dark water which raced past us.
Yet it was still confident, and her voice was level as she said: "Let me
help you. That rope is cutting your wrist."

I could have smiled at the thought of those slender fingers sharing that
strain; but thinking it would be well to keep her attention occupied,
nodded, and was a trifle surprised at the relief when the girl seized
the hard wet hemp. "If I say--let go--lift your hands at once," I said.

We were now tearing through the water at such pace that the boat flung a
good deal of what she displaced all over her, but a glance at the dark
pines ashore showed that she was making very little to windward, while,
when I looked over my shoulder at the boiling wake astern, it was too
plainly evident that, owing to the loss of the centerboard, we were
driving bodily sideways as well as ahead. Also the snowy froth which
lapped higher up the lee deck was perilously near the coaming protecting
the open well. Still, our expectant friends stood clustered among the
boulders fringing one horn of the bay, and I saw that Caryl held a rope
in his hand. We might just pass within reach of it on the next tack.

"We must come round. Slip down, and climb up on the opposite side as the
sail swings over," I said, carefully shoving the tiller down.

There was a thrashing of canvas as the boat came round, and I breathed
more easily as, gathering way on the opposite tack, she headed well up
for the boulder point where Caryl was somewhat awkwardly swinging the
coil of rope. The point drew nearer and nearer, and I could see Beatrice
Haldane standing rigidly still against the somber pines, when, as
ill-luck would have it, the dark branches set up a roaring as a wild
gust swept down. The boat swayed further over. Most of her forward was
buried in a rush of foam, and the water poured steadily into the well;
but I still held fast the sheet which would have loosed the sail, for we
might reach the rope in another two minutes. The gust increased in
violence. Foam and water poured over the coamings in cataracts, and,
seeing that otherwise a capsize was inevitable, I released the sheet.
The canvas rattled furiously, the craft swayed upright and commenced to
blow away sternforemost like a feather, while I dropped into the bottom
of her, ankle deep in water.

"There is no help for it--we must reef. Take the tiller, and hold
it--so," I said.

It was not without an effort I tied the tack, or forward corner of the
mainsail, down; then, floundering aft, hauled the afterside of it down
to the boom. That accomplished and the sail thus reduced by some two
feet all along its foot, there remained to be tied the row of short
lines, or reef points, which would hold the discarded portion when
rolled up; and when part of these were knotted it was with misgivings I
leaped up on the after-deck. The long, jerking boom projected a fathom
beyond the stern, and I must hold on by my toes while leaning out over
the water as I pulled the reef points at that end together.

"I am going to trust you with the safety of both of us, Miss Haldane," I
said. "When you see the boom swing inwards pull the tiller towards you
before it flings me off."

The girl had grown a little paler, and her hands trembled on the helm,
but she answered without hesitation: "Don't be longer than you can
help--but I understand."

She showed a fine intelligence and a perfect self-command, or our voyage
might have ended abruptly; so the reefing was accomplished, and I
resumed the helm. Meanwhile, however, we had drifted well out into the
lake, and a few minutes of sailing proved that under her reduced canvas
the boat would not beat back to the windward shore. The figures among
the boulders had faded into the deepening gloom, but, assuming a
cheerfulness I did not feel, I said: "It is quite impossible to return,
and as it is growing too late to look for a safe landing or path through
the bush, we must head for home and send back horses for the others. It
will be a fair wind."

"I was afraid so," said the girl with a shiver. "But I hope we shall not
be very long on the way. We spent five hours coming."

I knew we should travel at a pace approaching a steamer's, provided the
craft could be kept from filling; but, enlarging upon the former point,
I tried to conceal the latter possibility, as I put the helm up; and the
craft, rising upright, but commencing to roll horribly, raced away
down-wind towards open water. Once out of the point's shelter, short but
angry waves raced white behind her, for one may find sufficient turmoil
of waters when a fresh gale sweeps the Canadian lakes. The rolling grew
wilder, the long boom splashed heavily into the white upheavals that
surged by on each side, and our progress became a series of upward
rushes and swoops, until at times I feared the craft would run her bows
under and go down bodily. Once I caught my companion glancing over the
stern, and, knowing how ugly oncoming waves appear when they heave up
behind a running vessel, I laid a hand on her shoulder and gently turned
her head aside.

"There! You must look only that way, and tell me if you see any islands
across our course," I said.

It was practically dark now, but I could distinguish the whiteness of
her wet face, and see her shiver violently. My jacket was spongy, I had
nothing to wrap her in, but she looked so wet and pitiful that I drew
her towards me and slipped a dripping arm protectingly about her.
Lucille Haldane made no demur. The wild rolling, the flying spray, and
the rush of short tumbling ridges must have been sufficiently
terrifying, and perhaps she found the contact reassuring.

One hand was all I needed. There was now nothing any unassisted man
could do except keep the craft straight before wind and sea, but it was
quite sufficient for one who had lost much of his dexterity with the
tiller, and at times the boat twisted on a white crest in imminent peril
of rolling over. Worse than all, the waves that smote the flat stern
commenced to splash on board, and the water inside the boat rose
rapidly. Already the floorings were floating, and I dare not for a
second loose the tiller. It was Lucille Haldane who solved the
difficulty.

"Is not all that water getting dangerous?" she asked, with chattering
teeth; and, knowing her keenness, I saw there was no use attempting to
hide the fact.

"Why did you not tell me so earlier?" she continued. "It is only right
that I should do my share, and I can at least throw some of it out."

"You are not fit for such work, and must sit still. At this pace we
shall see the lights of Leyland's house soon," I said, tightening my
hold on her; but the girl shook off my grasp.

"I am not so helpless that I cannot make an effort to do what is so
necessary," she said. "Let me go, Mr. Ormesby, or I shall never forgive
you. Where is the bailer?"

I pointed to it, and even in face of the necessity it hurt me to see her
alternately kneeling in the water that surged to and fro and trying to
hold herself upright while she raised and emptied the heavy bucket.
Often she upset its contents over herself or me, and several times a
lurch flung her cruelly against the coaming; but she persevered with
undiminished courage until she stumbled in a savage roll and struck her
head. Then she clung to the coaming, the water draining from her, and,
not daring to move from the tiller, I could do nothing but growl
anathemas upon the boat's owner, until the girl sank down in the stern
sheets beside me.

"I must rest a little," she said. "But what were you saying, Mr.
Ormesby?"

"Only that I should like to hang the man who invented this unhandy rig,
and Caryl for tempting you on board such a craft," I answered, hoping
she had not heard the whole of my remarks. "You poor child, it is
shameful that you should have to do such work; and, whatever happens,
you shall not try again."

Her tresses, released from whatever bound them, streamed in the wind
about her, and she seemed to shrink a little from me as she struggled
with them. "It is not Caryl's fault. I clumsily let the rope go when I
was pulling the boat in, and as it is some little time since I was a
child, I do not care to be treated as one. Have I not done my best?" she
asked.

"You have done gallantly; more than many men unused to
seamanship--Caryl, for instance--could. All this is due to his
stupidity," I answered; and fancied there was a trace of resentment in
her voice as she said: "Poor Ted! He is brave enough, at least. I know
he cannot swim, and yet he was about to plunge into deep water when you
stopped him."

It appeared wholly ridiculous, but, even then, Lucille Haldane's defense
of Caryl irritated me. "He is responsible for all you are suffering, and
I can't forgive him for it. Was that not rather the action of a
lunatic?" I answered shortly.

A wave, which, breaking upon the flat stern, deluged my shoulders and
drenched my companion afresh, cut short the colloquy; but I caught sight
of a faint twinkle ahead, and restrained her with a wet hand when she
would have resumed the bailing. It was also by gentle force, for this
time she resisted, that I drew her down beside me so that I partly
shielded her from the spray, and the water came in as it willed as we
drove onwards through thick obscurity. Still, the light rose higher
ahead, and I strained my eyes to catch the first loom of Leyland's
island. Large boulders studded the approach to it, and we might come to
grief if we struck one of them.

It was now blowing viciously hard, the boat, half-buried in a white
smother, would scarcely steer, and the bright light from a window ahead
beat into my eyes, bewildering my vision. I could, however, dimly make
out pines looming behind it, and the beat of yeasty surges, which warned
me it would be risky to attempt a landing on that beach. There would be
shelter on the leeward side of the island, but a glance at the
balloon-like curves of the lifting mainsail showed that we could not
clear its end upon the course we were sailing. We must jibe, or swing
the mainsail over, which might result in a capsize.

"I want your help, Miss Haldane. Go forward and loose the rope you will
find on your right-hand side near the mast," I said; and as the girl
obeyed, the light shone more fully upon the dripping boat. I had a
momentary vision of several dark figures on the veranda, and then, while
I held my breath, saw only the slight form of the girl, with draggled
dress and wet hair streaming, swung out above the whiteness of rushing
foam as she wrenched at the halliard, which had fouled. Then the head of
the sail swung down, and as she came back panting, the steering demanded
all my attention.

"Hold fast to the coaming here," I said, as, dragging with might and
main at the sheet, I put the tiller up.

The craft twisted upon her heel, the sail swung aloft, and then, while
the sheet rasped through my fingers, chafing the skin from them, there
was a heavy crash as the boom lurched over. The boat swayed wildly under
its impetus, buried one side deep, and a shout, which might have been a
cry of consternation, reached me faintly. Then she shook herself free,
and reeled away into the blackness on a different course.

The head of the island swept by, and we shot into smoother water with a
spit of shingle ahead, on which I ran the craft ashore, and it was with
sincere relief I felt the shock of her keel upon the bottom. Lucille
Haldane said something I did not hear while she lay limp and wet and
silent in my arms, as, floundering nearly waist-deep, I carried her
ashore and then towards a path which led to the house. The night was
black, the way uneven, but perhaps because I was partly dazed I did not
set down my burden. She had helped me bravely, and it was only now, when
the peril had passed, I knew how very fearful I had been for her safety.
Indeed, it was hard to realize she was yet free from danger, and in
obedience to some unreasoning instinct I still held her fast, until she
slipped from my grasp. A few minutes later a light twinkled among the
trees, voices reached us, and Haldane, followed by several others, came
up with a lantern.

He stooped and kissed his daughter, then, turning, held out his hand to
me. "Thank God!--but where is Beatrice?" he said.

I told him, my teeth rattling as I spoke, and without further words we
went on towards the house. Nevertheless, the fervent handclasp and
quiver in Haldane's voice were sufficiently eloquent. When we entered
the house, where Mrs. Leyland took charge of Lucille, Haldane, asking
very few questions, looked hard at me. "I shall not forget this
service," he said quietly. "In the meantime get into some of Leyland's
things as quickly as you can. We are going to pull the boat ashore under
shelter of the island and requisition a wagon at Rideau's farm. I
believe we can reach the others by an old lumbermen's trail."

It was in vain I offered my services as guide. Haldane would not accept
them, and set out with the assistants whom, fearing some accident, he
had brought with him, while I had changed into dry clothing when his
daughter came in. What she had put on I do not know, but it was probably
something of Mrs. Leyland's intended for evening wear; and, in contrast
to her usual almost girlish attire, it became her. She had suddenly
changed, as it were, into a woman. Her dark lashes were demurely
lowered, but her eyes were shining.

"You are none the worse," I said, drawing out a chair for her; and she
laughed a little.

"None; and I even ventured to appear in this fashion lest you should
think so. I also wanted to thank you for taking care of me."

Lucille Haldane's voice was low and very pleasant to listen to, but I
wondered why I should feel such a thrill of pleasure as I heard it.

"Shouldn't it be the reverse? You deserve the thanks for the way you
helped me, though I am sorry it was necessary you should do what you
did. Let me see your hands," I said.

She tried to slip them out of sight, but I was too quick and, seizing
one, held it fast, feeling ashamed and sorry as I looked down at it. The
hard ropes had torn the soft white skin, and the rim of the bucket or
the coaming had left dark bruises. Admiration, mingled with pity, forced
me to add: "It was very cruel. I called you child. You are the bravest
woman I ever met!"

The damask tinge deepened a little in her cheeks, and she strove to draw
the hand away, but I held it fast, continuing: "No man could have
behaved more pluckily; but--out of curiosity--were you not just a little
frightened?"

The lashes fell lower, and I was not sure of the smile beneath them. "I
was, at first, very much so; but not afterwards. I thought I could trust
you to take care of me."

"I am afraid I seemed very brutal; but I would have given my life to
keep you safe," I said. "That, however, would have been very little
after all. It is not worth much just now to anybody."

I was ashamed of the speech afterwards, especially the latter part of
it, but it was wholly involuntary, and the events of the past few hours
had drawn, as it were, a bond of close comradeship between my companion
in peril and myself.

"I think you are wrong, but I am glad you have spoken, because I wanted
to express my sympathy, and feared to intrude," she said. "We heard that
bad times had overtaken you and your neighbors, and were very sorry.
Still, they cannot last forever, and you will not be beaten. You must
not be, to justify the belief father and I have in you."

The words were very simple, but there was a naïve sincerity about them
which made them strangely comforting, while I noticed that Mrs. Leyland,
who came in just then, looked at us curiously. I sat out upon the
veranda until late that night, filled with a contentment I could not
quite understand. To have rendered some assistance to Beatrice Haldane's
sister and won her father's goodwill seemed, however, sufficient ground
for satisfaction, and I decided that this must be the cause of it.

The rest of the party returned overland next day, and during the
afternoon Haldane said to me: "I may as well admit that I have heard a
little about your difficulties, and Leyland has been talking to me. If
you don't mind the plain speaking, one might conclude that you are
somewhat hardly pressed. Well, it seems to me that certain incidents
have given me a right to advise or help you, and if you are disposed to
let the mortgaged property go, I don't think there would be any great
difficulty in finding an opening for you. There are big homesteads in
your region financed by Eastern capital."

He spoke with sincerity and evident goodwill; but unfortunately Haldane
was almost the last person from whom I could accept a favor. "I am,
while grateful, not wholly defeated, and mean to hold on," I said.
"Would you, for instance, quietly back out of a conflict with some
wealthy combine and leave your opponents a free hand to collect the
plunder?"

Haldane smiled dryly. "It would depend on circumstances; but in a
general way I hardly think I should," he said. "You will, however,
remember advice was mentioned, and I believe there are men who would
value my counsel."

I shook my head. "Heaven knows what the end will be; but I must worry
through this trouble my own way," I said.

Haldane was not offended, and did not seem surprised. "You may be wrong,
or you may be right; but if you and your neighbors are as hard to
plunder as you are slow to take a favor, the other gentlemen will
probably earn all they get," he said. "I presume you have no objections
to my wishing you good luck?"

It was the next evening when I met Beatrice Haldane beside the lake.
"And so you are going back to-morrow to your cattle?" she said.

"Yes," I answered. "It is the one course open to me, and the only work
for which I am fitted." And Miss Haldane showed a faint trace of
impatience.

"If you are sure that is so, you are wise," she said.

Before I could answer she moved away to greet Mrs. Leyland, and some
time elapsed before we met again, for I bade Leyland farewell next
morning.




CHAPTER XII

THE SELLING OF GASPARD'S TRAIL


The surroundings were depressing when, one evening, Steel and I rode
home for the last time to Gaspard's Trail. The still, clear weather,
with white frost in the mornings and mellow sunshine all day long, which
follows the harvest, had gone, and the prairie lay bleak and gray under
a threatening sky waiting for the snow. Crescents and wedges of wild
fowl streaked the lowering heavens overhead as they fled southward in
endless processions before the frost. The air throbbed with the beat of
their pinions which, at that season, emphasizes the human shrinking from
the winter, while the cold wind that shook the grasses sighed most
mournfully.

There was nothing cheering in the prospect for a man who badly needed
encouragement, and I smiled sardonically when Steel, who pushed his
horse alongside me, said: "There's a good deal in the weather, and this
mean kind has just melted the grit right out of me. I'll be mighty
thankful to get in out of it, and curl up where it's warm and snug
beside the stove. Sally will have all fixed up good and cheerful, and
the west room's a cozy place to come into out of the cold."

"You must make the most of it to-night, then, for we'll be camping on
straw or bare earth to-morrow," I said. "Confound you, Steel! Isn't it a
little unnecessary to remind me of all that I have lost?"

"I didn't mean it that way," said the other, with some confusion. "I
felt I had to say something cheerful to rouse you up, and that was the
best I could make of it. Anyway, we'll both feel better after supper,
and I'm hoping we'll yet see the man who turned you out in a tight
place."

"You have certainly succeeded," I answered dryly. "When a man is forced
to stand by and watch a rascal cheat him out of the result of years of
labor, you can't blame him for being a trifle short in temper, and, if
it were not for the last expectation you mention, I'd turn my back
to-morrow on this poverty-stricken country. As it is----"

"We'll stop right here until our turn comes some day. Then there'll be
big trouble for somebody," said Steel. "But you've got to lie low,
Ormesby, and give him no chances. That man takes everyone he gets, and,
if one might say it, you're just a little hot in the head."

"One's friends can say a good deal, and generally do," I answered
testily. "How long have you set up as a model of discretion, Steel?
Still, though there is rather more sense than usual in your advice,
doesn't it strike you as a little superfluous, considering that Lane has
left us no other possible course?"

Steel said nothing further, and I was in no mood for conversation.
Gaspard's Trail was to be sold on the morrow, and Lane had carefully
chosen his time. The commercial depression was keener than ever, and
there is seldom any speculation in Western lands at that time of the
year. It was evidently his purpose to buy in my possessions.

A cheerful red glow beat out through the windows of my dwelling when we
topped the last rise, but the sight of it rather increased my moodiness,
and it was in silence, and slowly, we rode up to the door of Gaspard's
Trail. Sally Steel met us there, and her eyelids were slightly red; but
there was a vindictive ring in her voice as she said: "Supper's ready,
and I'm mighty glad you've come. This place seems lonesome. Besides, I'm
'most played out with talking, and I've done my best to-day. Those
auctioneering fellows have fixed up everything, but it isn't my fault if
they don't know how mean they are. They finished with the house in a
hurry, and one of them said: 'I can't stand any more of that
she-devil.'"

"He did! Where are they now?" asked Steel, dropping his horse's bridle
and staring about him angrily; but, after a glance at Sally, who
answered my unspoken question with a nod, I seized him by the shoulder.

"Steady! Who is hot-headed now?" I said.

Steel strove to shake off my grasp until his sister, who laughed a
little, turned towards him. "I just took it for a compliment, and
there's no use in your interfering," she said. "I guess neither of them
feels proud of himself to-night, and a cheerful row with somebody would
spoil all the good I've done. They're camping yonder in the stable, but
you'll tie up the horses in the empty barn."

Sally Steel was a stanch partisan, and, knowing what I did of her
command of language, I felt almost sorry for the men who had been
exposed to it a whole day in what was, after all, only the execution of
their duty. Before Steel returned, one of them came out of the stable
and approached me, but, catching sight of Sally, stopped abruptly, and
then, as though mustering his courage, came on again.

"I guess you're Mr. Ormesby, and I'm auctioneer's assistant," he said.
"One could understand that you were a bit sore, but I can't see that
it's my fault, anyway; and from what we heard, you don't usually turn
strangers into the stable."

The man spoke civilly enough, and I did not approve of his location; but
the rising color in Sally's face would have convinced anybody who knew
her that non-interference was the wisest policy.

"It is about the first time we have done so, but this lady manages my
house, and, if you don't like your quarters, you must talk to her," I
said.

The man cast such a glance of genuine pity upon me that it stirred me to
faint amusement, rather than resentment, while the snap, as we called it
on the prairie, which crept into Sally's eyes usually presaged an
explosion.

"If that's so, I guess I prefer to stop just where I am," he said.

We ate our supper almost in silence, and little was spoken afterwards.
Sally did her best to rouse us, but even her conversation had lost its
usual bite and sparkle, and presently she abandoned the attempt. I
lounged in a hide chair beside the stove, and each object my eyes rested
on stirred up memories that were painful now. The cluster of splendid
wheat ears above the window had been the first sheared from a bounteous
harvest which had raised great hopes. I had made the table with my own
fingers, and brought out the chairs, with the crockery on the varnished
shelf, from Winnipeg, one winter, when the preceding season's operations
had warranted such reckless expenditure. The dusty elevator warrant
pinned to the wall recalled the famous yield of grain which--because
cattle had previously been our mainstay--had promised a new way to
prosperity, and now, as I glanced at it, led me back through a sequence
of failure to the brink of poverty. Also, bare and plain as it was, that
room appeared palatial in comparison with the elongated sod hovel which
must henceforward shelter us at Crane Valley.

The memories grew too bitter, and at last I went out into the darkness
of a starless night, to find little solace there. I had planned and
helped to build the barns and stables which loomed about me--denied
myself of even necessities that the work might be better done; and now,
when, after years of effort and sordid economy, any prairie settler
might be proud of them, all must pass into a stranger's hands, for very
much less than their value. Tempted by a dazzling possibility, I had
staked too heavily and had lost, and there was little courage left in me
to recommence again at the beginning, when the hope which had hitherto
nerved me was taken away. Steel and his sister had retired before I
returned to the dwelling, and I was not sorry.

The next day broke gloomily, with a threat of coming storm, but, as it
drew on, all the male inhabitants of that district foregathered at
Gaspard's Trail. They came in light wagons and buggies and on horseback,
and I was touched by their sympathy. They did not all express it neatly.
Indeed, the very silence of some was most eloquent; but there was no
mistaking the significance of the deep murmur that went up when Lane and
two men drove up in a light wagon. The former was dressed in city
fashion in a great fur-trimmed coat, and his laugh grated on me, as he
made some comment to the auctioneer beside him. Then the wagon was
pulled up beside the rank of vehicles, and the spectators ceased their
talking as, dismounting, he stood, jaunty, genial, and _débonnaire_,
face to face with the assembly.

Even now the whole scene rises up before me--the threatening low-hung
heavens, the desolate sweep of prairie, the confused jumble of
buildings, the rows of wagons, and the intent, bronzed faces of the men
in well-worn jean. All were unusually somber, but, while a number
expressed only aversion, something which might have been fear, mingled
with hatred, stamped those of the rest. Every eye was fixed on the
little portly man in the fur coat who stood beside the wagon looking
about him with much apparent good-humor. Lane was not timid, or he would
never have ventured there at all; but his smile faded as he met that
concentrated gaze. Those who stared at him were for the most part
determined men, and even with the power of the law behind him, and two
troopers in the background, some slight embarrassment was not
inexcusable.

"Good-morning to you, boys. Glad to see so many of you, and I hope
you'll pick up bargains to-day," he said; and then twisted one end of
his mustache with a nervous movement; when again a growl went up. It was
neither loud nor wholly articulate, though a few vivid epithets broke
through it, and the rest was clearly not a blessing. Several of the
nearest men turned their backs on the speaker with as much parade as
possible.

"Don't seem quite pleased at something," he said to me. "Well, it don't
greatly matter whether they're pleased or not. May as well get on to
business. You've had your papers, and didn't find anything to kick
against, Ormesby?"

"It is hardly worth while to ask, considering your experience in such
affairs. The sooner you begin and finish, the better I'll be pleased," I
said.

The auctioneer's table had been set up in the open with the ticketed
implements arranged behind it and the stock and horses in the
wire-fenced corral close beside. He was of good repute in his business,
and I felt assured of fair play from him, at least, though I could see
Lane's purpose in bringing him out from Winnipeg. The latter was too
clever to spoil a well-laid scheme by any superfluous petty trickery,
and with that man to conduct it nobody could question the legitimacy of
the sale. There was an expectant silence when he stood up behind his
table.

"What is one man's gain is another man's loss, and I feel quite certain,
from what I know of the prairie, that none of you would try to buy a
neighbor's things way under their cost," he commenced. "It's mighty hard
to make a fortune in times like these, you know, but anybody with sound
judgment, and the money handy, has his opportunity right now. You're
going to grow wheat and raise beef enough down here to feed the world
some day. It's a great country, and the best bit in it you'll find
scheduled with its rights and acreage as the first lot I have to offer
you--the Gaspard's Trail holding with the buildings thereon. The soil,
as you all know, will grow most anything you want, if you scratch it,
and the climate----"

"Needs a constitution of cast iron to withstand it," interjected a young
and sickly Englishman, who had benefited less than he expected from a
sojourn on the prairie. His comment was followed by a query from another
disappointed individual: "Say, what about the gophers?"

"I'm not selling you any climate," was the ready answer. "Even the
gopher has its uses, for without some small disadvantages the fame of
your prosperity would bring out all Europe here. Now, gentlemen, I'm
offering you one of the finest homesteads on the prairie. Soil of
unequaled fertility, the best grass between Winnipeg and Calgary, with
the practical certainty of a railroad bringing the stock cars to its
door, and the building of mills and elevators within a mile from this
corral."

Here Lane, standing close to the table, whispered something--unobserved,
he doubtless thought--to the auctioneer, whose genial face contracted
into a frown. Lane had, perhaps, forgotten the latter was not one of the
impecunious smaller fry who, it was suggested, occasionally accepted
more than hints from him.

"The holder of the mortgage evidently considers that the railroad will
not be built, and it is very good of him to say so--in the
circumstances; but we all know what a disinterested person he is,"
continued the auctioneer; and the honest salesman had, at least, secured
the crowd's goodwill. A roar of derisive laughter and appreciation of
the quick-witted manner in which he had punished unjustified
interference followed the sally. "That, after all, is one person's
opinion only; and I heard from Ottawa that the road would be built. I
want your best bids for the land and buildings, with the stock cars
thrown in. You'll never get a better chance; but not all at once,
gentlemen."

During the brief interval which followed I was conscious of quivering a
little under the suspense. The property, if realized at normal value,
should produce sufficient to discharge my liabilities several times
over; but I dreaded greatly that, under existing conditions, a balance
of debt would be left sufficient to give Lane a hold on me when all was
sold. The auctioneer's last request was superfluous, for at first nobody
appeared to have any intention of bidding at all, and there was an
impressive hush while two men from the cities, who stood apart among the
few strangers, whispered together. Meanwhile I edged close in to the
table so that I might watch every move of my adversary.

"Lane wasn't wise when he tried to play that man the way he did," said
Steel, who stood beside me, but I scarcely heeded him, for Carson
Haldane, who must have reached Bonaventure very recently, nodded to me
as he took his seat in a chair Thorn brought him.

Then one of the strangers named a ridiculously small sum, which Steel,
amid a burst of laughter from all those who knew the state of his
finances, immediately doubled, whereupon the bidder advanced his offer
by a hundred dollars.

"Another five hundred on to that!" cried Steel; and when my foreman,
Thorn, followed his cue with a shout of, "I'll go three hundred better,"
the merriment grew boisterous. The spectators were strung up and
uncertain in their mood. Very little, I could see, would rouse them to
fierce anger, and, perhaps, for that reason any opening for mirth came
as a relief to them. I had now drawn up close behind the table which
formed the common center for every man's attention, and, scanning the
faces about it, saw Lane's darken when the stranger called out
excitedly, "I'll raise him two hundred and fifty."

Lane rewarded Thorn with a vicious glance, and growled under his breath.
Next he whispered something to the auctioneer, who disregarded it, while
a few minutes later the bidder, holding his hand up for attention, said:

"I withdraw my last offer. I came here to do solid business and not fool
away my time competing with irresponsible parties who couldn't put up
enough money to buy the chicken-house. Is this a square sale, Mr.
Auctioneer, or is anybody without the means to purchase to be allowed to
force up genuine buyers for the benefit of the vendor?"

"That's Lane's dummy, and I'm going to do some talking now," said Steel.

I was inclined to fancy that the usurer, perhaps believing there was no
such thing as commercial honesty, had badly mistaken his man, or that
the auctioneer, guided by his own quick wits, saw through his scheme,
for he smote upon the table for attention.

"This is a square sale, so square that I can see by the vendor's looks
he would sooner realize half-value than countenance anything irregular.
I took it for granted that these gentlemen had the means to purchase,
as I did in your own case. No doubt you can all prove your financial
ability."

"One of them is still in debt," added the bidder.

I had moved close behind Lane, and fancied I heard him say softly to
himself: "I'll fix you so you'll be sorry for your little jokes
by-and-by."

A diversion followed. Goodwill to myself, hatred of the usurer, and
excitement, may perhaps have prompted them equally, for after the
would-be purchaser's challenge those of my neighbors who had escaped
better than the rest clustered about Steel, who had hard work to record
the rolls of paper money thrust upon him. Hardly had his rival laid down
a capacious wallet upon the table than Steel deposited the whole beside
it.

"I guess that ought to cover my call, and now I want to see the man who
called me irresponsible," he said. "That's enough to raise me, but to
hint that any honest man would back up the thief of a mortgage holder is
an insult to the prairie."

A roar of laughter and approval followed, but the laughter had an
ominous ring in it; and I saw Sergeant Mackay, who had been sitting
still as an equine statue in his saddle on the outskirts of the crowd,
push his horse through the thickest of the shouting men. He called some
by name, and bantered the rest; but there was a veiled warning behind
his jest, and two other troopers, following him, managed to further
separate the groups. The hint was unmistakable, and the shouting died
away, while, as the auctioneer looked at the money before him, the man
who had been bidding glanced covertly at Lane.

"If you are satisfied with the good faith of these gentlemen, I'll let
my offer stand," he said.

"It doesn't count for much whether he does or not," said Haldane
languidly. "I'll raise him two hundred and fifty."

"I'm not satisfied with his," broke in the irrepressible Steel. "I can't
leave my money lying round right under that man's hand, Mr. Auctioneer.
No, sir; I won't feel easy until I've put it where it's safer. Besides,
he called me a friend of the mortgage holder, and I'm waiting for an
apology."

The stranger from the cities grew very red in face, and a fresh laugh,
which was not all good-humor, went up from the crowd; but, as the
auctioneer prepared to grapple with this new phase of affairs, a man in
uniform reined in a gray horse beside the speaker, and looked down at
him. There was a faint twinkle in his eyes, though the rest of his
countenance was grim, and he laid a hard hand on the other's shoulder.

"Ye'll just wait a while longer, Charlie Steel," he said. "I'm thinking
ye will at least be held fully responsible for anything calculated to
cause a breach of the peace."

Thereafter the bidding proceeded without interruption, Haldane and his
rival advancing by fifties or hundreds of dollars, while, when the
prairie syndicate's united treasury was exhausted, which happened very
soon, a few other strangers joined in. Meanwhile, the suspense had grown
almost insupportable to me. That I must lose disastrously was certain
now, but I clung to the hope that I might still start at Crane Valley
clear of debt. Haldane was bidding with manifest indifference, and at
last he stopped.

The auctioneer, calling the price out, looked at him, but Carson Haldane
shook his head, and said, with unusual distinctness: "The other
gentlemen may have it. I have gone further than I consider justifiable
already."

I saw Lane glance at him with a puzzled expression, and next moment try
to signal the stranger, who was clearly in league with him, and fail in
the attempt to attract his attention. Then I held my breath, for, after
two more reluctant bids, there was only silence when the auctioneer
repeated the last offer.

"Is there anyone willing to exceed this ridiculous figure? It's your
last chance, gentlemen. Going, going----" And my hopes died out as he
dropped the hammer.

"Nothing left but to make the best of it," said Steel; which was very
poor consolation, for I could see nothing good at all in the whole
affair.

There was much brisker bidding for the implements, working oxen, and
remnant of the stock, which were within the limits of my neighbors, and
who did their best; but the prices realized were by comparison merely a
drop in the bucket, and I turned away disconsolate, knowing that the
worst I feared had come to pass. All the borrowed money had been sunk in
the improvement of that property, and now the mortgage holder, who had
even before the sale been almost repaid, owned the whole of it, land and
improvements, and still held a lien on me for a balance of the debt.

Haldane met me presently, and his tone was cordial as he said: "Where
are you thinking of spending the night?"

"At Crane Valley with the others," I answered shortly. "Steel and my
foreman are going to help me to restart there."

"I want you to come over to Bonaventure for a few days instead," he
said. "A little rest and change will brace you for the new campaign, and
I am all alone, except for my younger daughter."

I looked him squarely in the face, seeing that frankness was best. "My
wits are not very keen to-day, and I am a little surprised," I said.
"May I ask why you bid at all for my recent property? You must have
known it was worth much more than your apparent limit."

Haldane smiled good-humoredly; but, in spite of this, his face was
inscrutable. "'When I might at least have run the price up,' you wish to
add. Well, I had to redeem a promise made somewhat against my better
judgment, and I stopped--when it seemed advisable. This, as you may
discover, Ormesby, is not the end of the affair, and, if I could have
helped you judiciously, you may be sure that I would. In the meantime,
are you coming back to Bonaventure with me?"

He had told me practically nothing, and yet I trusted him, while the
knowledge that his daughter had bidden him take measures on my behalf
was very soothing. After all, Beatrice Haldane had not forgotten me. "It
is very kind of you, and I should be glad to do so, sir," I said.

I found Lane at the table as soon as the sale was over, and he held out
a sheet of paper. "You can verify the totals at leisure, but you will
see it leaves a balance due me," he said. "It is rather a pity, but the
new purchaser requires immediate possession, though he might allow you
to use the house to-night. Ah! here he is to speak for himself."

The stranger, who indorsed the statement, looked first at Lane and then
at me in sidelong fashion. There was nothing remarkable about him except
that he had hardly the appearance of a practical farmer, but the
malicious enjoyment his master's eyes expressed, and something in his
voice, set my blood on fire. Indeed, I was in a humor to turn on my best
friend just then.

"Nothing would induce me to enter a house which belonged to--you," I
said, turning to Lane. "So far you have won hands down; but neither you
nor your tool has quite consummated your victory. I shall see both of
you sorry you ever laid your grasping hands on this property."

"You may be right in one way," answered Lane. "You'll remember what
happened to the fool bullfrog, and you're looking tolerably healthy
yet."

I had hardly spoken before I regretted it. The words were useless and
puerile; but my indignation demanded some outlet. In any case, Lane
shrugged his shoulders and the other man grinned, while I had clearly
spoken more loudly than I intended, for several bystanders applauded,
and when I moved away Sergeant Mackay overtook me. "I'm surprised at ye,
Rancher Ormesby," he said. "Ye have not shown your usual discretion."

"I would not change it for yours," I answered. "It is evidently
insufficient to warn you that there are times when preaching becomes an
impertinence."

Mackay only shook his head. He wheeled his horse, and, with two troopers
behind him, rode towards the wagon which Lane was mounting. A deep
growl of execration went up, and the farewell might have been warmer but
for the troopers' presence. As it was, he turned and ironically saluted
the sullenly wrathful crowd as the light wagon lurched away across the
prairie. Then I was left homeless, and was glad to feel Haldane's touch
on my arm. "Light this cigar and jump in. The team are getting
impatient, and Lucille will be wondering what has kept us so long," he
said.




CHAPTER XIII

AN UNFORTUNATE PROMISE


Haldane could command any man's attention when he chose to exert
himself, and, I fancied, made a special effort on my behalf during his
homeward journey. As a result of this I almost forgot that I was a
homeless and practically ruined man as I listened to his shrewd
predictions concerning the future of that region, or occasionally
ventured to point out improbabilities in some of them. The depression,
however, returned with double force when we came into sight of
Bonaventure soon after dusk, and with it a curious reluctance to face
the young mistress of the homestead.

Lucille Haldane was my junior by several years. Indeed, on our first
meeting I had considered her little more than a girl, but since then a
respect for her opinions, and a desire to retain her approval, had been
growing upon me. Perhaps it was because her opinions more or less
coincided with my own, but this fact would not account for the
undeniable thrill of pleasure which had followed her naïve announcement
that she believed in me. Hitherto, with one exception, I had figured
before her as a successful man, and I positively shrank from appearing
as one badly beaten and brought down by his own overconfident folly. I
remembered how she once said: "You must not disappoint us."

This seemed wholly absurd, but the worst bitterness I had yet
experienced made itself felt when Haldane pulled up his team, and,
pointing to a figure on the threshold of his homestead, said: "Lucille
must have been getting impatient. She is watching for us."

I allowed him to precede me by as long a space as possible, while I
lingered to assist the hired man with a refractory buckle, and then it
was with an effort I braced myself for the interview. Haldane had
vanished into the house, but the slight, graceful figure still waited
upon the threshold, and I wondered, with a strange anxiety, what his
daughter would say to me.

The question was promptly answered, for, as I entered the hall, feeling
horribly ashamed and with doubtless a very wooden face, Lucille Haldane
held out both hands to me. Her manner was half-shy, wholly
compassionate, and I stood quite still a while comforted by the touch of
the little soft fingers which I held fast within my own. Then she said
very simply: "I am so sorry, but you will have better fortune yet."

A lamp hung close above us, and it was, perhaps, as well that it did,
for the relief which followed the quiet words that vibrated with
sincerity was more inimical to rational behavior than the previous
causeless hesitation. Lucille Haldane looked more girlish than ever and
most bewitchingly pretty as, glancing up at me, partly startled by my
fervent grasp, she drew her hands away. She seemed the incarnation of
innocence, freshness, and gentle sympathy, and, perhaps as a result of
the strain lately undergone, there came upon me an insane desire to
stoop and kiss her as, or so at least it seemed, a brother might have
done.

She may have grown suspicious, for feminine perceptions are keen, and,
though the movement was graceful and not precipitate, a distance of
several feet divided us next moment, and we stood silent, looking at
each other, while my heart beat at what appeared double its usual rate.

"You have given me new hope, and those were the kindest words I have
ever heard," I said. "I think you meant them."

Lucille Haldane's manner changed. The change was indefinite, but it
existed, and it was with a smile she answered me. "Of course I did. One
does not generally trouble to deceive one's friends; and we are friends,
are we not, Mr. Ormesby?"

"No one could desire a better, and I hope we shall always remain so," I
answered, with an attempt at a bow; and the girl, turning, preceded me
into the big central hall.

"What kept you so long, Ormesby? One could almost have fancied you had
become possessed of an unusual bashfulness," said Haldane, when we came
in; and I glanced apologetically at his daughter before I answered him.

"Something of the kind happened, and my excuse is that I had very little
cause for self-confidence. Now, however, I am only ashamed of the
hesitation."

"You deserve to be," said Haldane, with a mock severity which veiled a
certain pride. "Fortunately, the young mistress of Bonaventure atones
for her father's shortcomings, and so long as she rules there will
always be a welcome for anybody in adversity here, as well as the best
we can give to harassed friends. It is a convenient arrangement, for
while, according to my unsuccessful rivals, I grow rich by paralyzing
industries and unscrupulous gambling upon the markets, Lucille assists
me to run up a counter score by proxy."

The girl's face flushed a little, and it was pleasant to see the quick
indignation sparkle in her eyes. "You never did anything unscrupulous;
and I do not think we are very rich," she said.

One might have fancied that Haldane was gratified, though he smiled
whimsically and turned in my direction as he answered: "The last
assertion, at least, is true if it proves anything, for it is tolerably
hard to acquire even a competence nowadays by strictly honest means,
isn't it, Ormesby? You, however, do not know the inconvenience of having
an uncomfortably elevated standard fixed for one to live up to, and I am
seriously contemplating a reckless attack on some national industry to
prove its impossibility."

The girl's confidence in her father was supreme, for, though this time
she laughed, it was evident she did not believe a word of this. "It is
well you are known by your actions and not your speeches," she said.
"There are commercial combinations which deserve to be attacked.
Why"--and her tone grew serious enough--"do you not crush the man or
men who are doing so much mischief in our vicinity?"

Haldane looked at his daughter, and then across at me, and, while
slightly ironical good-humor was stamped on his face, it was a mask.
There was more than one side to his character, and, when it pleased him
to be so, there was nobody more inscrutable. "It is a rather extensive
order, and men of that stamp are generally hard to crush," he said.
"Still, if those mistaken doctors should conspire to forbid me more
profitable employment, I might, perhaps, make the attempt some day."

This was vague enough, but I felt that Haldane had intended the hint for
me. There was no further reference to anything financial, for
henceforward both my host and his daughter laid themselves out to help
me to forget my troubles, and were so successful in this that I even
wondered at myself. The troubles were certainly not far away, but the
financier's anecdotes and his daughter's comments proved so entertaining
that they diminished and melted into a somber background.

When Lucille left us Haldane sat chatting with me over his cigar, and at
last he said abruptly: "I dare say you wondered at my half-hearted
action to-day?"

"I did, sir," I answered; and the financier nodded good-humoredly.

"There is nothing to equal plain speaking, Ormesby. When a man knows
just what he wants and asks for it he stands the best chance of
obtaining it, though I don't always act in accordance with the maxim
myself. Well, I made a few bids somewhat against my better judgment
because I had promised to, and then ceased because it seemed best to me
that, since you could not hold it, Lane should acquire the property."

"I don't quite see the reason, sir. On the other hand, a stiff advance
in prices would have meant a good deal to me," I said.

Haldane answered oracularly: "That gentleman's funds are not
inexhaustible, and he already holds what one might call foreclosure
options on a good deal of property. I should not be sorry to see him
take hold of further land so long as it did not lie west of Gaspard's
Trail. It is possible that he has, as we say in the vernacular, bitten
off more than he can chew--considering the present scarcity of money. I
should take heart if I were you, and hold on to Crane Valley whatever it
costs you."

"Can't you speak a little more directly?" I asked.

Haldane shook his head. "I am not in a position to do so yet; but, if
surmises turn into certainties, I will some day. Meanwhile, are you open
to train some of the Bonaventure colts, and look after my surplus stock
on a profit-division basis? I have more than my staff can handle."

"I should be very glad to do so," I answered, seeing that while the
offer was prompted by kindness it had also its commercial aspect. "But,
if there is anything going on, say, some plan for the exploitation of
this district in opposition to Lane, can I not take my part in it?"

"I have heard of no such scheme; and, if I had, you could help it most
by driving new straight furrows and raising further cattle," said
Haldane, with an enigmatical smile. "There are games which require a
lifelong experience from the men who would succeed in them; and, because
Rome was not built in a day, perhaps you were wiser to stick to your
plowing, Ormesby. One gets used to the excitement of the other life, but
the strain remains, and that is one reason why you see me at Bonaventure
again."

My host's words encouraged me. It was true he had said very little, but
that was always Haldane's way; and, seeing that he now desired to change
the subject, I followed his lead. "I hope your health is not failing you
again, sir?" I said.

"Save for one weakness, my general health is good enough," was the quiet
answer. "Still, the weakness is there, and for the second time this year
physicians have ordered an interval of quietness and leisure. One has to
pay the penalty for even partial success, you know, and I am not so
young or vigorous as I used to be."

"Then, if I may ask the question, why not abandon altogether an
occupation which tries you, sir?"

Haldane smiled over his cigar, but a shadow crossed his face. "We are
what the Almighty made us, Ormesby, and I suppose the restless gaming
instinct was born in me. Even in my enforced leisure down here it is
almost too strong for me, and I indulge in it on a minor scale by way of
recreation. I can't sit down and quietly rust into useless inactivity.
Further, while handling a good deal of money, my private share is
smaller than many folks suppose it, and I have my daughters' future to
ensure. Both have been brought up to consider a certain amount of luxury
as necessary."

I do not think the last words were intended as a hint, for had Haldane
considered the latter necessary it is hardly likely I should have been
welcomed so often at Bonaventure. In any case it would have been
superfluous, for I had already faced the worst, and decided that
Beatrice Haldane must remain what she had always been to me--an ideal to
be worshiped in the abstract and at a distance. Strangest of all, once
the knowledge was forced on me, I found it possible to accept the
position with some degree of resignation. All this flashed through my
mind as I looked into the wreaths of smoke, and then Haldane spoke:

"Have you come across that photographer fellow lately?"

"Not for some time. Do you wish to see him?" I answered, with a slightly
puzzled air.

"I think I should like to"--and Haldane's voice changed from its
reflective tone. "Do you know who he is, Ormesby?"

"I should hardly care to say without consulting him, sir," I answered;
and Haldane laughed.

"You need not trouble, because I do. If you chance upon him tell him
what I said. Getting late, isn't it? Good-night to you!"

He left me equally relieved and mystified, and that I should feel any
relief at all formed part of the mystery. Whatever was the cause of it,
I was neither utterly cast down nor desperate when I sought my couch,
and I managed to sleep soundly.

That was the first of several visits to Bonaventure. The acreage of
Crane Valley was ample, but the house a mere elongated sod hovel, of
which Miss Steel monopolized the greater portion, although I reflected
grimly that in existing circumstances it was quite good enough for me.
Our life there was dreary enough, and, at times, I grew tired of Sally's
alternate blandishments and railleries; so, when the frost bound fast
the sod and but little could be done for land and cattle, it was very
pleasant to spend a few days amid the refinement and comfort which ruled
at Bonaventure. During one of my journeys there I met Cotton, and rode
some distance with him across the prairie. I could see there was
something he wished to say, but his usually ample confidence seemed to
fail him, and finally he bade me farewell with visible hesitation where
our ways parted. I had, however, scarcely resumed my journey before he
hailed me, and when I checked my horse he rode back in my direction with
resolve and irresolution mingled in his face.

"You are in a great hurry. There was something I wanted to ask," he
commenced. "Do you think this frost will hold, Ormesby?"

"You have a barometer in the station, haven't you?" I answered,
regarding him ironically. "Cotton, you have something on your mind
to-day, and it is not the frost. Out with it, man. I'm in no way
dangerous."

"I have," he answered, with a slight darkening of the bronze in his
face. "It is not a great thing, but your paternal advice and cheap
witticisms pall on me now and then. Curious way to ask a favor, isn't
it? But that is just what I'm going to do."

"We'll omit the compliments. Come to the point," I said; and the trooper
made the plunge he had so much hesitated over.

"I want you to ride out on Wednesday night and meet Freighter Walker
coming in from the rail. As you know, he generally travels all night by
the Bitter Lakes trail. Ask him for a packet with my name on the label,
then tear that label off and give Mail-carrier Steve the packet
addressed to Miss Haldane. Those confounded people at the rail post
office chatter so about every trifle, and Steve is too thick in the head
to notice anything. My rounds make it quite impossible for me to go
myself, and that fool of a freighter would certainly lose or smash the
thing before he passed our way on his return journey. It is not asking
too much, is it?"

"No," I said readily, seeing the eagerness in the trooper's eyes, though
that statement implied a long, cold night's ride. "Miss Haldane is,
however, in Ottawa."

"I don't care where she is," said Cotton. "Confound--of course, I mean
it's very good of you; but there's no use in assuming stupidity. It is
Miss Lucille Haldane I mean, you know."

"I might certainly have guessed it," I said dryly. "It is no business of
mine, Cotton, but in return for your compliments I can't help asking, do
you think Haldane would appreciate it?"

Cotton straightened himself in his saddle, and I was sorry for him. He
looked very young with that light in his eyes and the hot blood showing
through his tan; also, I fancied, very chivalrous.

"Don't be under any misapprehension, Ormesby," he said quietly. "That
packet merely contains an article I heard Miss Haldane lamenting that
she could not obtain. It is of no value, only useful; but Thursday is
her birthday, and I think she would be pleased to have it. Being Trooper
Cotton, I should never have presumed to send a costly present, and you
do not for a moment suppose Miss Lucille would appreciate the trifle for
anything beyond its intrinsic utility. This is the second time you have
forced me to point out the absurdity of your conclusions."

I was angry with him both for his infatuation and obtuseness, for it
struck me that in the circumstances the simple gift was made in a
dangerously graceful fashion, and calculated to appeal to a young
woman's sympathies. "I can't offer you advice?" I said.

"No," was the answer. "One might surmise that you needed all your
abilities in that direction for yourself. Still, to prevent your drawing
any unwarranted inference, I may repeat that it would be quite
unnecessary."

"I understand," I said somberly, feeling that there were two of us in
the same position. "Very glad to oblige you. The times are out of joint
for all of us just now, Cotton. Good-night--and, on consideration, I
think the frost will hold."

We rode in different directions, and because I had made that unfortunate
promise it was late on Wednesday night when I prepared to leave
Bonaventure quietly. Haldane had journeyed to the railroad and could not
return before midnight at earliest. Lucille informed me that she would
be busy with some household affairs, and, as I could be back by morning,
it seemed possible that neither would miss me. Having promised the
trooper secrecy, I did not wish to answer questions or name excuses.

As ill-luck would have it, the last person I desired to meet chanced
upon me, as, well wrapped in furs, I was slipping towards the door, and
I must have looked confused when Lucille Haldane said: "Where are you
going, Mr. Ormesby?"

"A little ride," I answered. "I have--I have some business to do, and
after two idle days begin to long for exercise."

The girl looked hard at me, and I saw she recognized that the excuse was
very lame. "There is nobody living within reach of a short ride. Will
you return to-night?" she asked.

It was most unfortunate, for I did not wish to anticipate the trooper's
gift. "I hardly think so," I answered. "Now, I will make a bargain with
you. If you will keep my departure a secret, you will discover what my
errand is very shortly."

"Very well," said Lucille Haldane; though she still seemed curious. "A
safe journey to you, but I don't envy you the exercise."

I afterwards had cause to abuse Trooper Cotton and his errand, but I
swung myself into the saddle, and, when I reached the Bitter Lakes
trail, I patrolled it for two long hours under the nipping frost. No
lumbering ox-team, however, crawled up out of the white prairie, though
as yet the moon was in the sky; and I decided that the freighter had, as
he sometimes did, taken another trail. It then, fortunately, occurred to
me that I had promised to inspect some horses with a small rancher
living four or five leagues away, and so determined to do so in the
morning. A deserted sod-house stood at no great distance, which the
scattered settlers kept supplied with fuel. It served as a convenient
half-way shelter for those who must break their long journey to the
railroad settlement, and I set out for it at a canter. As I did so the
moon dipped, and darkness settled on the prairie.




CHAPTER XIV

THE BURNING OF GASPARD'S TRAIL


The hole in the roof of the sod-house had been insufficiently stopped,
the green birch billets stored in a corner burned sulkily in the rusty
stove, so that the earth-floored room was bitterly cold. Still, after
tying my horse at one end of it, and partly burying myself in a heap of
prairie hay, I managed to sink into a light slumber. I awakened feeling
numbed all through, with the pain at the joints which results from
sleeping insufficiently protected in a low temperature, and looked about
me shivering. There was not a spark in the stove, the horse was stamping
impatiently, and, when a sputtering match had shown me that it was after
two in the morning, I rose stiffly. Anything appeared better than slowly
freezing there, and I strode out into the night, leading the horse by
the bridle.

A cold wind swept the prairie, and it was very dark; but, when we had
covered a league or so, and the exercise had warmed me, a dull red glare
appeared on the horizon. A grass fire was out of the question at that
season, and it was evident that somebody's homestead was burning. I was
in the saddle the next moment and riding fast towards the distant blaze.
The frozen sod was rough, the night very black, and haste distinctly
imprudent; but I pressed on recklessly, haunted by a fear that the scene
of the conflagration was Bonaventure. Reaching the edge of a rise, I
pulled the horse up with a sense of vast relief, for a struggling birch
bluff gave me my bearings and made it plain that neither Haldane's
homestead nor his daughter could be in peril.

Then it dawned on me that the fire was at Gaspard's Trail and I sat
still a minute, irresolute. I had no doubt that the recent purchaser was
merely acting for Lane, and I felt tempted to resume my journey; but
curiosity, or the instinct which calls out each prairie settler when his
neighbor's possessions are in jeopardy, was too strong for me, and I
rode towards the blaze, but much more slowly. It was one thing to risk a
broken limb when danger appeared to threaten Bonaventure, but quite
another to do so for the sake of an unscrupulous adversary. It would
have been well for me had I obeyed the first impulse which prompted
me--and turned my back upon the fire.

An hour had passed before I reached the house which had once been mine,
and, after tethering the horse in shelter of an unthreatened granary, I
proceeded to look about me. Gaspard's Trail was clearly doomed. One end
of the dwelling had fallen in. The logs, dried by the fierce summer,
were blazing like a furnace, and a column of fire roared aloft into the
blackness of the night. Showers of sparks drove down-wind, barns and
stables were wrapped in smoke; but, although the blaze lighted up the
space about them, there was nobody visible. This was in one respect not
surprising, because the nearest homestead stood a long distance away,
but, as the new owner had an assistant living with him, I wondered what
had become of them. From the position of the doors and windows they
could have had no difficulty in escaping, so, deciding that if the
ostensible proprietor had deserted his property I was not called on to
burn myself, I proceeded to prowl about the buildings in case he should
be sheltering inside one of them.

Finally I ran up against him carrying an armful of tools out of a shed,
and he dropped them at sight of me. "Hallo! Where did you spring from?
Blamed hard luck, isn't it?" said he.

Niven, for that was his name, did not appear greatly disconcerted, or
was able to face his loss with enviable tranquillity. He was a lanky,
thin-faced man, with cunning eyes, and I did not like the way he looked
at me.

"I was out on the prairie and saw the blaze. Where's your hired man;
and is there nothing better worth saving than these?" I asked.

"I haven't seen Wilkins since he woke me up," was the answer. "He
shouted that the place was burning, and he'd run the horses out of the
stable and on to the prairie, while I hunted up odd valuables and
dressed myself. He must have done it and ridden off to the nearest ranch
for help, for I haven't seen him since. The fire had got too good a hold
for us to put it out."

If I had hitherto entertained any doubts as to the ownership of
Gaspard's Trail, the speaker's manner would have dissipated them. No man
would, in the circumstances, have wasted time in speech had his own
property been in danger; and the sight of the homestead, which I had
spent the best years of my life in building, now burning without an
effort being made to save it, filled me with indignation.

"You're the man who used to own this place, aren't you?" asked Niven,
with a sidelong glance. "Should have thought you would have had enough
of it; but you might as well help heave these things out, now you're
here."

The question was innocent, if unnecessary, for I had spoken to him at
the sale; but the manner in which he put it made me long to assault him,
and I answered wrathfully: "I'll see you and your master burned before I
move a hand!"

"I'm my own master, worse luck!" said the other coolly, before he
commenced to gather up his load; and then turned again as another man
came up breathless.

"Is that you, Ormesby. Come to see the last of it?" he said; and I saw
that the newcomer was Boone, or Adams, the photographer.

"I don't quite know what I came for," I answered. "Probably out of
curiosity. It's too late to save anything, even if there were more water
in the well than there used to be."

Boone nodded as he glanced towards the house. It was burning more
fiercely than ever. The straw roof of the stable, which stood not far
away, was also well alight, and we could scarcely hear each other's
voices through the crackling of blazing logs and the roaring of the
flame. It was moodily I watched it toss and tower, now straight aloft,
now hurled earthwards by the wind in bewildering magnificence. After
many a hard day's toil I had robbed myself of much needed sleep to
fashion what the pitiless fire devoured, and it seemed as though I had
given my blood to feed the flame, and that the hopes which had nerved me
had dissipated like its smoke. "I can guess what you're feeling, but a
bad failure is sometimes the best way to success. You will get over it,"
said Boone.

I was grateful, but I did not answer him, for just then a rattle of
wheels broke through the roar of the conflagration, and two jolting
wagons lurched into the glare. Black figures on horseback followed, and
a breathless man ran up. "Trooper came round and warned us, and there's
more behind. Looks as if we'd come too late," he said.

We formed the center of an excited group in a few more minutes, for
Niven had joined us, and, when he had answered some of the many
questions, he asked one in turn. "It was my man Wilkins warned you?"

"I guess not," was the answer. "Trooper Chapleau saw the blaze on his
rounds"; and, when the others had stated how the news had been passed on
to them, the new owner said: "Then where in the name of thunder has the
fool gone?"

A swift suspicion flashed upon me, and I glanced at Adams; but his face
was serene enough, and, when the question remained unanswered, another
thought struck me. "Did you see him lead the horses out?" I asked.

"No," was the answer. "He was good at handling beasts, and I was way too
busy to worry about him. Must have done it long ago. I made sure he'd
lit out to ask for assistance, when I saw the door had swung to."

I twisted round on my heel. "Who's coming with me to the stable, boys?"
I asked.

The men looked at me and then at the fire. The stable was built of the
stoutest logs obtainable, packed with sod, and its roof of branches,
sod, and straw piled several feet thick to keep out the frost. A
wind-driven blaze eddied about one end of it, but the rest of the low
edifice appeared uninjured as far as we could see it through the smoke.
The glare beat upon the weather-darkened faces of the spectators, which
glowed like burnished copper under it; but, if devoid of malicious
satisfaction, I thought I could read a resolve not to interfere stamped
on most of them.

"There's nothing of yours inside, and this fellow says the teams are
clear," said one. "A bigger fire wouldn't stop us if the place was
Ormesby's; but when the man who allows he owns it does nothing I'll not
stir a finger to pull out a few forks and pails for that black thief
Lane."

His comrades nodded, and another man said: "It's justice. Boys, you'll
remember the night we brought Redmond home?"

I knew the first speaker's statement was true enough. One and all would
have freely risked their lives to assist even a stranger who had dealt
fairly with them; but they were stubborn men, unused to oppression, and
recent events had roused all the slow vindictiveness that lurked within
them. I felt very much as they did; but, remembering something, I was
not quite certain that the teams were out of the stable, and the dumb
beasts had served me well. Before I could speak a police trooper came up
at a gallop. "Hallo! What are you gaping at? Can't you stir around and
pull anything clear of harm's way, boys?" he shouted.

"We're not a Montreal fire brigade, and I forgot my big helmet," said
one.

"Not a stir," interjected another.

"We'd pull the very sod up off the corral if you'd run Lane in for
wholesale robbery," added a third; and it was not until the hoarse laugh
which followed died away that I found my opportunity.

"I'm afraid the horses are inside there, boys," I said. "It's not their
fault they belong to Lane, and whether you come along or not, I'm going
to liberate them."

There was a change in a moment. I never saw even the most unfortunate
settler ill-use his beast, though all young plow oxen and half-broken
broncos, besides a good many old ones, are sufficiently exasperating.
"Ormesby's talking now," said somebody; and there was an approving
chorus. "Get the poor brutes clear, anyway. Coming right along!" Then I
started for the stable at a run, with the rest of the company hard
behind me.

Thick smoke rolled between us and the door, and when we halted just
clear of the worst of it a bright blaze shot up from the thatch. The
heat scorched our faces, and one or two fell back with heads averted;
but the sound of a confused trampling reached us from the building.
"We've got to get in before the poor brutes are roasted, and do it
mighty smartly," said somebody.

That at least was evident; but the question how it was to be
accomplished remained, for I recoiled, blinded and choking, at the first
attempt, before I even reached the door. I had framed it, with my own
hands, of stout tenoned logs, so that it would fit tightly to keep out
the frost. One of the posts loosened by the fire had settled, apparently
since the last person entered the building. Another man went with me the
second time, but though we managed to reach the handle the door remained
immovable, and once more we reeled back beaten, when a strip of blazing
thatch fell almost on our heads. Because the roof fed it, the fire was
mostly on the outside of the building.

"Solid as a rock," gasped my companion. "Say, somebody find a lariat and
we'll heave her out by the roots."

A rope was found and with difficulty hitched about the handle, after
which a dozen strong men grasped the slack of it. A glance at their
faces, illumined by the glare, showed that the thought of the suffering
beasts had roused them, and they were in earnest now. There was a heave
of brawny shoulders, a straining of sinewy limbs, and the line of bodies
swayed backwards as one, when a voice rose: "All together! Heave your
best!"

I felt the straining hemp contract within my grasp. Trampling feet
clawed for a firmer hold on the frozen sod, and I could hear the men
behind me panting heavily. The door remained fast, however, and again a
breathless voice encouraged us: "This time does it! Out she comes!"

The rope creaked, the trampling increased, and a man behind kicked me
cruelly on the ankle during his efforts; but instead of the jammed door,
its handle came out, and the next moment we went down together in one
struggling heap. "There was a good birch log by the granary. We'll use
it for a ram," I gasped.

Two men brought the log, which was unusually long and heavy for that
region, where the stoutest trees are small, and Boone and I staggered
with the butt of it into the smoke. The rest grasped the thinner end,
swung it back, and drove the other forward with all the impetus they
could furnish. The door creaked, but the most manifest result was the
fall of a further strip of burning thatch on us.

"We must manage this time," spluttered Boone. "If we once let go it will
be too late before anyone else takes hold again."

Once more the door defied us. The heat was almost stifling, the smoke
thicker than ever; but, choking, panting, and dripping with
perspiration, we managed to swing and guide the end of the log until the
battered frame went down with a crash, and we two reeled over it into
the building. The fire which traveled along the roof had eaten a portion
out, but though one strip of the interior was flooded with lurid light,
the smoke of a burning hay pile rolled about the rest. A horse was
squealing in agony; one stall partition had been wrenched away, and
another kicked to pieces; while two panic-stricken brutes blundered
about the building. The rest were plunging and straining at their
tethers, and there was a curious look in Boone's face as he turned to
me.

"Somebody will risk being kicked to death before we get them out. I wish
we could give their owner the first chance," he said.

Several of the agonized beasts had been in times of loneliness almost as
human friends to me. Others had, in their own dumb faithful way, helped
me to realize my first ambitions, and the sight of their suffering
turned me savage. "Do you know anything of this?" I asked.

Boone wheeled around on me with a menace in his eyes, but apparently
mastering his temper with an effort, laughed unpleasantly. "No. Take
care you are not asked the same question. Are you disposed to let the
horses roast while we quarrel?"

The latter, at least, was out of the question, and I had only paused to
gather breath and consider a plan of operations, for it is by no means
easy to extricate frantic beasts from a burning building. The others in
the meantime were gathering around, and we set about it as best we
could. At times thick smoke wreaths blew into our eyes, the heat grew
insupportable, and the first horse I freed would have seized me with its
teeth but that I smote it hard upon the nostrils. Two men were knocked
down and trampled on, another badly kicked, but amid an indescribable
confusion the task was accomplished, until only one badly burned horse,
and another with a broken leg, remained inside the building.

"We can't leave them to grill," I said. "Thorn used to keep an old
shotgun inside the chop-chest lid."

It was Boone who brought me the weapon, and the burned horse was quickly
put out of its misery; but a portion of the roof fell in as I ran
towards the other. This one lay still, and, I saw, recognized me. It had
carried me gallantly on many a weary ride, and was the one on which
Lucille Haldane had leaped across the fence. I felt like a murderer when
it turned its eyes on me with an almost human appeal, for all that I
could do was to press the deadly muzzle against its head. The shock of
the detonation shook down a shower of blazing fragments, and I had
turned away with a horrible sense of guilt, when somebody shouted,
"There's a man in the end stall!"

The stall was hidden by the smoke, but, now that the emptied stable was
quieter, a voice reached us faintly through the vapor: "Won't anyone
take me out of this?"

Several of us made a rush in that direction; but, so far as memory
serves, only Boone and I reached the stall, and, groping around it
blindly, came upon something which resembled a human form. We lifted it
between us, and the man both groaned and swore; then, staggering through
the vapor, we came, blackened, burned a little, and half-asphyxiated,
into the open. The rest were already outside, and, when we laid down our
burden, they stood about him, panting.

"You've nearly killed me between you, boys, but it wasn't your fault,"
he gasped. "Horse fell over me when I tried to turn him loose." The
half-articulate words which followed suspiciously suggested that the
sufferer was cursing somebody, and I caught the name of Lane before he
lapsed into semi-consciousness.

"It's pretty simple," one of the onlookers said. "The way Ormesby fixed
that door, it shut itself. He got some bones smashed, and was turned
half-silly by the shock. Couldn't make us hear him even if he had sense
enough. My place is the nearest, and I'll take him along."

I heard my name called softly, and saw Boone standing apart from the
rest. "I want to ask why you spoke as you did a little while ago?" he
said.

"I did not stop to reflect just then, but I'll hear your explanation if
you care to volunteer one before I apologize," I said.

"I was camped under a bluff with the wagon when I saw the blaze, and as
the distance was not great, I came in on foot," was the answer. "That is
the simple truth. Do you believe it?"

"Yes," I said, for his manner impressed me. "In turn, you also hinted
something."

"I was giving you a warning," said Boone. "You are dealing with a
dangerous man, and can't you see that if there is any doubt concerning
the fire's origin a charge might be worked up against you? Be careful
what you say; but as I see the sergeant yonder, you need not mention my
presence unless it is necessary."

I alluded to Haldane's desire to see him, and, when he vanished,
followed the rest into the presence of Sergeant Mackay, who, ubiquitous
as usual, had mysteriously appeared. He sat motionless in his saddle,
with slightly compressed lips, though his keen eyes moved along the
encircling faces. It was evident that he was making an official inquiry,
and the owner of the homestead was speaking.

"My name is Niven, late of the Brandon district, and I purchased this
property recently," he said.

"Any partners?" asked the sergeant; and I noticed a gleam of what
appeared malicious satisfaction in the other's face as he answered: "No.
You will find my name recorded as sole owner. All was right when I
turned in about ten o'clock, but I didn't notice the time when my hired
man Wilkins roused me to say the house was burning. Had too much to
think about. Can't suggest any cause for the fire, and it doesn't count
much, anyway, for the result is certain. House and stable burned
out--and all uninsured."

"Had ye any other hired man than Wilkins?" interposed the sergeant; and
Niven answered: "No. Stable didn't seem to be burning when I first got
up, but Wilkins said it was swept by sparks and he'd get the horses out.
One of them must have knocked him down, and he was only found at the
last minute."

"Who was the first man ye met when ye went out?" asked the sergeant.

"My predecessor--Ormesby," said Niven.

Mackay appeared to meditate before he spoke again: "Where did ye meet
him, and what did he say?"

"Slipping around the corner of a shed, and he said he'd see me burnt
before he stirred a hand to help," was the prompt answer. Then Mackay
questioned several others before he turned to me.

"How did ye happen to come to Gaspard's Trail, Henry Ormesby?"

"I was riding out from Bonaventure to intercept the freighter and saw
the blaze," I answered indignantly. "I certainly refused to help Niven
at first, for I had little cause for goodwill towards him or the man
behind him; but afterwards I saved most of his working beasts."

There was a murmur of assent from the bystanders, but the sergeant,
disregarding it, spoke again: "Did ye meet the freighter?"

"No," I said bluntly.

Mackay smiled. "Ye did not. I passed him an hour gone by on the Buffalo
trail. What was your business with him?"

"To ask him for a package."

"All that should be easily corroborated," was the answer; and I was glad
that the examination was over, for, remembering Boone's warning, it
appeared that my answers might give rise to unpleasant suspicions. It
also struck me that, in the hurry and confusion, nobody had noticed him
or remembered it if they had done so, while, somewhat strange to say,
after the last brief interview I had full confidence in his statement
that he knew nothing about the origin of the fire.

"I'm thinking that will do in the meantime. Chapleau, ye'll ride in to
the depot and wire for a surgeon. Now, boys, are any of ye willing to
take Niven home?" asked Mackay.

Apparently none of them were willing, though at last two offers were
reluctantly made. It was the only time I ever saw the prairie settlers
deficient in hospitality; but the man's conduct had confirmed their
suspicions as to his connection with Lane, which was sufficient to
prejudice the most generous. "Maybe he would be comfortable if I took
him along with me," Mackay said dryly.

Thereupon the assembly broke up, and I rode back to Bonaventure,
reaching it with the first of the daylight, blackened and singed,
while, as it happened, Lucille Haldane was the first person I met.
"Where have you been? Your clothes are all burned!" she said.

"Gaspard's Trail is burned down and I helped to save some of the
horses," I answered wearily; and I never forgot the girl's first
startled look. She appeared struck with a sudden consternation. It
vanished in a moment, and, though she looked almost guilty, her answer
was reassuring.

"Of course; that is just what you would do. But you are tired and must
rest before you tell me about it."

I was very tired, and slept until noon, when I told my story to Haldane
and his daughter together. The former made very few comments, but
presently I came upon Lucille alone, and laid my hand on her shoulder as
I said: "Do you know that somebody suggested it was I who burned
Gaspard's Trail?"

The girl's color came and went under my gaze; then she lifted her head
and met it directly. "I--I was afraid you might be suspected, and for
just a moment or two, when you first came in looking like a ghost, I did
not know what to think," she said. "But it was only because you startled
me so."

"I would not like to think that you could believe evil against me," I
said; and Lucille drew herself up a little. "Do not be ungenerous. As
soon as I could reason clearly I knew it was quite--quite impossible."

"I hope any work of that kind is," I said; and Lucille Haldane, turning
suddenly, left me.




CHAPTER XV

BEAUTY IN DISGUISE


Winter passed very monotonously with us in the sod-house at Crane
Valley. When the season's work is over and the prairie bound fast by
iron frost, the man whom it has prospered spends his well-earned leisure
visiting his neighbors or lounging contentedly beside the stove; but
those oppressed by anxieties find the compulsory idleness irksome, and I
counted the days until we could commence again in the spring. The
goodwill of my neighbors made this possible, for one promised
seed-wheat, to be paid for when harvest was gathered in; another placed
surplus stock under my charge on an agreement to share the resultant
profit, while Haldane sent a large draft of young horses and cattle he
had hardly hands enough to care for, under a similar arrangement.

I accepted these offers the more readily because, while prompted by
kindness, the advantages were tolerably equal to all concerned. So the
future looked slightly brighter, and I hoped that better times would
come, if we could hold out sufficiently long. The debt I still owed
Lane, however, hung as a menace over me, while although--doubtless
because it suited him--he did not press me for payment, the extortionate
interest was adding to it constantly. Some of my neighbors were in
similar circumstances, and at times we conferred together as to the best
means of mutual protection.

In the meantime the fire at Gaspard's Trail was almost forgotten--or so,
at least, it seemed. Haldane, much against his wishes, spent most of the
winter at Bonaventure; but his elder daughter remained in Montreal.
Boone, the photographer, appeared but once, and spent the night with us.
He looked less like the average Englishman than ever, for frost and
snow-blink had darkened his skin to an Indian's color, and when supper
was over I watched him languidly as we lounged smoking about the stove.
Sally Steel had managed to render the sod-house not only habitable but
comfortable in a homely way, and though she ruled us all in a somewhat
tyrannical fashion, she said it was for our good.

"There's a little favor I want to ask of you, Ormesby, but I suppose you
are all in one another's confidence?" said Boone.

"Yes," I answered. "We are all, in one sense, partners, with a capital
of about ten dollars, and are further united by the fear of a common
enemy."

Boone laughed silently, though his face was a trifle sardonic. "That is
as it should be, and you may have an opportunity for proving the
strength of the combination before very long. I have, as I once told
you, a weakness for horses and cattle, and I couldn't resist purchasing
some at a bargain a little while ago. I want you to take charge of them
for me. Here are particulars, and my idea of an equitable agreement." He
laid a paper on the table, and I glanced through it. The conditions were
those usual in arrangements of the kind, which were not then uncommon,
but though cattle and horses were lamentably cheap, they could not be
obtained for nothing, and the total value surprised me.

"We are as honest as most people down this way, and we take one
another's word without any use for spilling ink," observed the
irrepressible Sally.

"I once heard of a grasping storekeeper being badly beaten over a deal
in butter by a clever young lady," said Boone; and Steel laughed, while
his sister frowned.

"He deserved it, but you seem to know just everything," she said.

"Some people are born clever, and some handsome; but it is really not my
fault," said Boone, with a smile at Sally. "For instance, I know what
Ormesby is thinking. He is wondering where I got the money to pay for
those beasts."

The laugh was against me, but I answered frankly: "That was in my
thoughts; but I also wondered what I had done to merit the trouble you
have taken to do me a kindness."

"Don't flatter yourself," said Boone. "It is a matter of business, and
equally possible that I wished to do some other person the opposite. You
must decide to-night, because I have a new assortment of beautifiers and
cosmetics in my wagon which I must set about vending to-morrow. They
would not, of course, be of any use to Miss Sally, but I am going on to
the Swedish settlement where the poor people need them."

It was not delicate flattery, but Boone was quick at judging his
listener's capacity, and it pleased Miss Steel--the more so because a
certain Scandinavian damsel was her principal rival in the question of
comeliness. She drew herself up a little, while Boone smiled
whimsically. "You know it is true," he said.

The man had always interested me. He was at home anywhere, and his
tongue equally adept at broad prairie raillery or finely modulated
English. Yet one could see that there was a shadow upon him.

"You need have no compunction, Ormesby. I really made only one
successful attempt at housebreaking in my life," he said. "Do you accept
the offer?"

"Yes, with many thanks; though I don't quite see why you make it in
writing," I said. "There are, however, a good many other things I don't
comprehend just now, and sometimes I feel that I am being moved here and
there blindly to suit other persons' unknown purposes. The position does
not please me."

Boone laughed. "There is something in the fancy. You are the king's
bishop, and I'm not sure that as yet even the players quite know their
own game. Of course you are aware that Lane holds a power of attachment
against you?"

"At present there is nothing but the prairie sod to attach, though I
don't see why he does not at once grab as much as he is entitled to of
that," I said. "If I get enough time I may be able to pay him off after
harvest."

"I hope you will," was Boone's answer; and, changing the topic, he
entertained us with the quaintest anecdotes.

Some time had passed since that evening, and spring had come suddenly,
when I commenced my plowing. Hitherto little wheat had been grown so far
West, but the soil was good, and I knew that sooner or later there would
be grain elevators in Crane Valley. Though the sub-soil was still
frozen, the black clods that curled in long waves from the mold-board's
side were steaming under the April sun; and as I tramped down the
quarter-mile furrow my spirits rose with the freshness of the spring. It
was good to be up and doing again, and the coming months of strain and
effort would help me to forget. Thorn and Steel, who were also plowing,
shouted jests as they passed, and it was with a contentment long strange
to us we rested at noon. Some distance divided the breaking from the
house, and we lay on the warm grasses, basking in the radiance of the
cloudless sun over our simple meal.

The whole prairie was flooded with it, the air sweet and warm, and we
recommenced our task with pulses which throbbed in unison with that of
reawakening nature. The long months of darkness and deathlike cold had
gone, green blades presaging the golden ears would soon shoot upwards
from every furrow, and one drank in the essence of hope eternal in every
breath of air. Anxiety faded into insignificance, and one rejoiced in
the mere possession of physical strength, while the tender greenness
checkering the frost-nipped sod testified again that seed time and
harvest should not fail so long as the world rolled onward from darkness
into light.

We came home more cheerful than we had been for months, but I felt an
instinctive foreboding when I saw Cotton talking to Sally beside the
corral fence. She was apparently bantering him, but there was
satisfaction in his face, as, after some jests of hers, he glanced at
the stripes on his sleeve.

"I guess he's much too proud to look at you. They've made him a
corporal!" said Sally.

There was a contrast between us. Spring plowing is not cleanly work, and
the mire which clung about our leggings had also freely spattered our
old jean overalls. Cotton was immaculate in new uniform, and sat, a
trim, soldierly figure, on his freshly caparisoned horse.

"Here is a note for you from Bonaventure," he said. "I was riding in to
the railroad with some dispatches and to bring out our pay when Miss
Haldane asked me to give it to you."

I saw a faint sparkle in Sally's eyes at the mention of Bonaventure, as
I said: "It was very good of you to ride so far round. Your superiors
are punctilious, are they not?"

"With the exception of Mackay, who's away, they don't leave one much
discretion," said the corporal. "Still, I have time to spare, and don't
suppose anybody will be much the wiser. In any case, Miss Haldane said
the note was urgent, and--though having to call at the reservation I
might have passed this way on my homeward journey--I came at once."

The missive brought a frown to my face. "Our hired men are busy, and
Corporal Cotton will kindly take you this," it ran. "Father, who went
East for a day or two, writes me to let you know immediately that Lane
is coming over shortly to attach your horses and cattle."

I saw at once that if the money-lender seized our working beasts in the
midst of plowing, when nobody had a team to spare, our prospects of a
harvest would be ruined. However, I reflected with grim satisfaction
that the beasts were not mine, and that every man is entitled to protect
the property entrusted to him. "Read that," I said, passing it to Thorn.
"You had better start after supper and let the South-side boys know.
I'll warn the others, and it strikes me that Lane will have his work cut
out to drive off a single head."

We had forgotten the bearer of the message, though once or twice I heard
Sally's voice and Cotton's laugh; but on turning towards the house I saw
he had backed his horse away from the corral and was somewhat dubiously
regarding the fence. Sally leaned against it watching him with an
assumption of ironical admiration.

"I'll see that you keep your promise if I win," he said; and the girl
laughed mockingly.

"If you don't I'll try not to cry over you," she retorted; and I guessed
the madcap had made some wager with him that he could not leap the
fence. Sally afterwards declared penitently that she never fancied he
would attempt it; but I could see by the lad's face he meant to take the
risk.

"Your horse is not fresh enough, and you'll certainly break your neck!"
I shouted.

Cotton glanced over his shoulder, then gathered up his bridle, while, as
I ran towards him, Sally's heart must have failed her, for she called
out: "Don't! I'll pay forfeit!"

We were both too late. The corporal had touched the beast with the
spurs, and man and horse were flying towards the tall and well-braced
fence. I held my breath as I watched, for I had nailed the birch poles
home securely, and had not much faith in the beast's leaping powers. It
launched itself into the air, then there was a crash, and the top rail
flew into splinters, while horse and rider parted company. The former,
after rolling over, scrambled to its feet, but the uniformed figure
smote the ground with a distressful thud and lay very still. Sally
screamed, and must have climbed the fence, for when we had run around by
the slip rails she was bending over the limp figure stretched upon the
sod. Her eyes were wide with terror.

"He is dead, and I have killed him," she said.

I bent down with misgivings, for Cotton did not move, and there was
something peculiar about his eyes. "Can you hear us? Are you badly
hurt?" I asked.

"What's that?" he answered drowsily; and I gathered courage, remembering
symptoms noticeable in similar cases; but Thorn had administered a dose
of prohibited whisky before he became intelligible. I was not wholly
sorry for Sally, but seeing that she had been sufficiently punished, I
said: "There are no bones broken, and his pulse is regaining strength."

Cotton's scattered senses were evidently returning, for he looked up,
saying: "I'm only shaken, Miss Steel, and I won the bet. Don't be in a
hurry, Ormesby; I hardly fancy I could get up just yet."

We waited several minutes, then, forcibly refusing Miss Steel's
assistance, carried him into the house and laid him on a makeshift couch
in our general-room. His color was returning, but his face was awry with
pain, and, so he expressed it, something had given way inside his back.
It was a dismal termination to an inspiriting day, and the old
depression returned with double force as I glanced at the untasted meal
on the table, at Lucille Haldane's note, and around the disordered room.
Sally looked badly frightened, Steel very grim, and Cotton seemed to be
suffering.

"It will pass presently, and you had better get your supper," he said.
"I must try to eat a morsel, for I have a long way to ride to-night."

"You are not going to move off that couch until morning at least," I
said. But the corporal answered: "I simply must. Is the horse all
right?"

"Doesn't seem much the worse," said Steel; and Sally held a teacup to
the corporal's lips, and afterwards coaxed him very prettily to eat a
little. Seeing this, the rest of us attacked the cold supper, for we had
duties that must be attended to. Returning to the house some little time
later, I found that Sally had disappeared and Cotton was standing
upright. He moved a few paces, and then halted, leaning heavily on the
table, while his face grew gray with pain.

"Lie down at once. You are not fit to move," I said.

"It means degradation and heaven knows what besides unless I can reach
the depot to-night," he said. "Mackay is away, and the other man's a
cast-iron martinet, while I have just got my stripes and a hint of
something better. You see we are not supposed to undertake private
errands when under definite orders, and there are special reports and a
receipt for the pay in my wallet."

He made another attempt to reach the door, then staggered, and, grasping
his arm, I settled him with some difficulty once more on the couch. "You
are right. There's nothing left but to face the inevitable," he said,
trying to check a groan.

I forgot my own anxieties in my regret. "I am very sorry this should
have happened," I said. "You were far too generous; but can't one of us
take in the papers and get the money?"

Cotton tried to smile, though his fingers twitched. "Miss Haldane asked
me; and it would be no use. They wouldn't give you the money, and if
they did, how would that get over the fact that I'm lying here helpless?
Why couldn't it have happened on the return journey?"

"Did you tell Miss Haldane you were running a risk?" I asked.

"Would one naturally do so when she asked a favor?" he answered, with a
trace of indignation.

It was of course absurd of Corporal Cotton, but I felt very sorry for
him when he laid his head down with a groan, and I subsequently surmised
that Sally had overheard part, at least, of the conversation, for when
the lad, who had perhaps not wholly recovered from the weakness of the
shock, sank into sleep, she called me.

"It's all my fault, and I'll never forgive myself; but I never guessed
he'd rush the fence," she said. "They couldn't put him in prison?"

"They might turn him out of the service, which, in his eyes, would be
worse," I answered dryly. "It should be a lesson to you, Sally. You
can't help being pretty, but that is no reason why you should so often
lead some unfortunate man into difficulties."

Sally's penitent expression vanished, and there was a flash in her eyes.
"You are so foolish, all of you, and I guess you needn't look wise,
Harry Ormesby. He is perhaps a little worse than the rest--and that's
why one likes him. When he wakes, you and Charlie have just got to take
those tight things off him and put him in your berth. If anybody wants
him the next day or two they'll have to tackle me."

We did so presently, and, after seeing that our patient was comfortable,
Sally returned, wearing his uniform tunic. "How does this fit me?" she
asked.

Steel looked angry, and I grew thoughtful. Nobody who knew her was, as a
rule, astonished at Sally's actions, but she asked the question soberly,
with no trace of mischief.

"Do you wish me to say that you would look well in anything?" I asked.

"I don't. You can tell lies enough when you trade horses," she answered
tartly. "It's a plain question--how does this thing fit me?"

"Tolerably well," and I surveyed her critically. "It is a trifle large,
but if you don't draw it in too much at the waist it wouldn't fit you
badly. Are you going to turn police trooper, Sally?"

Miss Steel was not generally bashful, but she looked a trifle confused
as she answered: "Don't ask any more fool questions."

I went out soon afterwards to overhaul a plow under a shed, and had
spent considerable time over it, when Steel approached with a lantern.
"Have you seen anything of Sally?" he asked.

"No," I answered carelessly. "What mischief has she been contriving
now?"

"That's just what I'm anxious to know; that, and where the corporal's
horse is," he said. "They're both missing, and Cotton's fast asleep.
I"--and Steel used a few illegal expletives before he continued--"I
can't find his uniform either."

"It must be somewhere. You can't have looked properly," I said; and
Steel restrained himself with an effort.

"You can try yourself, and I'd give a hundred dollars, if I had it, to
see you find it," he said.

I hurriedly left the plow, but though we hunted everywhere could
discover no trace of the missing uniform. "I didn't think we would,"
said the harassed brother, with a groan of dismay. "She's--well, the
Lord only knows what Sally would do if she took the notion, and there's
no shirking the trouble. I've got to find out if she has the whole blame
outfit on."

"I'll leave you to settle that point," I said; and hearing the locked
door of Sally's portion of the house wrenched open and garments being
hurled about, I surmised that Steel was prosecuting his inquiries. He
flung the split door to with a crash when he came out, leaving, as I saw
by a brief glimpse, ruin behind him, and he grew very red in the face as
he looked at me.

"It will be a mighty relief when she marries somebody," he said
gloomily. "The only comfort is that you're a sensible man, and one could
trust you, Ormesby. You will never breathe a word of this. There's no
use trying to catch her, for she can get as much out of a beast as any
man."

I pledged myself willingly, smothering a wild desire to laugh; and, as
it happened, it was I who met the truant riding home very wearily two
days later. Her mount was a chestnut, while Cotton's horse was gray, and
there was a bundle strapped before her. Still, except for a spattering
of mire, she was dressed in a manner befitting a young lady, and
actually blushed crimson when I accosted her.

"Where have you been, Sally, and where did you get the horse?"

"In to the railroad; and I borrowed him from Carsley's wife. They'll
send the corporal's over," she said. "I'm very tired, Harry Ormesby.
Won't you get me supper instead of worrying me?"

Silence seemed best, and I could not resist the appeal, and so hurried
back to set about the supper; while what passed between brother and
sister I do not know, though when they came in together Sally appeared
triumphant and Steel in a very bad humor.

"I'm going to see whether you have let the patient starve. You'll come
along with me," she said, when she came out of her own quarters, with no
trace of the journey about her. We entered the lean-to shed, which
Steel and I occupied together, and found Cotton better in health, though
as depressed as he had been all day. Sally held out a bag and a handful
of documents towards him.

"There are your papers and money. Now all you have to do is to get well
again," she said demurely.

There was no mistaking the relief in the corporal's face, and he
positively clutched at the articles she handed him. "You don't know what
this has saved me from. But how did you get them?"

A flush of tell-tale color crept into Sally's cheeks, and I noticed that
her voice was not quite steady as she answered him. "You must solemnly
promise never to ask that again, or to tell anyone you were not at the
depot yourself. Nobody will ask you, we fixed it up so well. Now
promise, before I take them back again."

The lad did so, and Sally glanced at me. "If Harry Ormesby ever tells
you I'll poison him."

I do not think Corporal Cotton ever discovered Sally's part, or who
personated him, though he apparently suspected both Steel and myself;
but when we went out together I turned to the girl: "Just one question,
and then we'll forget it. How did you manage at the depot, Sally?"

Miss Steel avoided my glance, but she laughed. "It was very dark, there
was only a half-trimmed lamp, and the agent was 'most asleep. It's
pretty easy, anyway, to fool a man," she said.




CHAPTER XVI

THE DEFENSE OF CRANE VALLEY


It was two days before Cotton could be sent to the police outpost in a
wagon, but, so far as we could gather, the officer temporarily in charge
took it for granted he had been injured on his homeward ride around by
the Indian reserve which would have led him through Crane Valley. Some
time, however, passed before he was fit for the saddle. Meanwhile Steel
and I discussed Lane's latest move, and the best means of counteracting
it.

"If we knew just what he wanted it would give us a better show, but we
don't, and Lane doesn't tell anybody," my comrade observed gloomily.

"It's tolerably clear that he wants Crane Valley," said I. And Steel
proceeded: "Then why doesn't he sail in and take all he's entitled to?"

"A part would not satisfy him when he wants it all," I said. "If he
seizes the working beasts and breeding stock now we shall be left
helpless for the season. He will take just enough to cripple me, and
leave me still in debt, while it would be useless to try to raise money
to pay him off until the question of the railroad is settled."

"Will it ever be built?" asked Steel.

"It must be, some day; but whether that will be before we are ruined or
buried, heaven only knows," I said. "Haldane seems to think the time
will not be long, and judging by his tactics, Lane agrees with him.
Still, the newspapers take an opposite view."

"If it isn't"--and Steel frowned at the harness he was mending--"what
will we poor fools do?"

"Stand Lane off as long as possible, and then strike for the mines in
British Columbia. That, however, concerns the future, and we have first
to decide what we will do if Lane arrives to-morrow."

Steel's face grew somber, but he waited until I added: "Then, because
they're not my beasts as yet, if he can take them by main force--and I
almost hope he'll try--he is welcome to do so."

"Now you're talking," and Steel smote a dilapidated saddle until the
dust leaped forth from it. "The law on debt liens is mighty mixed, but I
figure that the man who can keep hold has the best of it. Jacques,
Gordon, and the rest will stand by us solid, and I'd work two years for
nothing to get a fair chance at Lane."

We both determined on resistance; but it struck me that ours was a very
forlorn hope, and that the odds were heavily against two plain farmers,
equally devoid of legal knowledge and of capital, who had pitted
themselves against a clever, unscrupulous man with the command of
apparently an unlimited amount of money.

Lane did not come next day, nor the following one.

Indeed, a number passed without bringing any word of him, and because
idleness meant disaster, we perforce relaxed our vigilance and resumed
our plowing. I had just yoked a pair of oxen to a double plow one
morning, when Boone's wagon came lurching up as fast as two whitened
horses could haul it across the prairie.

"Lane came in with a hard-looking band of rascals by the Pacific Mail
last night," he said. "They had got whisky somewhere, and smashed the
hotel windows because Imrie wouldn't get them supper in the middle of
the night. He would start as soon as they were partly sober. Are you
prepared to protect your property, Ormesby?"

"I am ready to protect other people's, which will suit me a good deal
better in this instance," I said, with a certain satisfaction that the
time for open resistance had come at last, though Lane had cunningly
chosen a season when every man's presence was necessary at his own
homestead.

"Don't count too much on that," said Boone. "If you have no documentary
evidence, even the actual owners might have difficulty in substantiating
your claim. Now you see why I demanded a written agreement. It strikes
me that in this case possession is everything."

"If I can keep whole in body until sundown, possession will remain with
us," I said. "But there is no time to spare for talking. It will take
hours to bring my neighbors up."

"Of course you arranged with Haldane to send you assistance?" said
Boone; and hurled out an expletive when I answered stolidly: "That is
just what I did not do. I do not even know whether he is at home. It is
not necessary to drag all one's friends into a private quarrel."

"Goodness knows why you are so unwarrantably proud, and it is not worth
while wasting time over that question now," said Boone. "Roll up your
thick-headed stockmen. I'm going on to Bonaventure for the one man whose
presence would be worth a hundred of them."

He lashed his horses as he spoke, and I roused myself to action, while
long before his wagon dipped over the rim of the prairie Thorn had set
out at a gallop to bring our neighbors in. A neighbor may dwell from one
to ten leagues away in that country. This left only Steel and me to hold
Crane Valley, with the exception of Sally. The girl absolutely refused
to leave us, and it may not have been by accident that several
heavy-handled brushes lay convenient beside the stove. The stock were
driven off as far as we dare follow them across the prairie, and we
hoped they would remain unseen in a hollow; the working horses were made
fast in the stable; and when a few head of pedigree cattle had been
secured in the corral, we could only sit down and wait the siege.

I spent several hours perched most uncomfortably on the roof with a pair
of glasses; but though the day was clear, nothing appeared above the rim
of the prairie. It spread all around the horizon in low rolling rises,
empty and desolate. My eyes grew dazzled, the continued use of the
glasses produced a distressful headache; but still nothing moved on
either rise or level, and it was a relief when at last Sally hailed me:
"Come down and get your dinner; scenery won't feed anybody."

I had forgotten there was such a thing as food, and my throat and lips
were dry; but on descending I was surprised to find myself capable of
making an excellent meal.

"You'll feel considerably better after that," said Sally, who watched
our efforts with much approval. "I guess you have forgotten you had no
breakfast, either of you."

"That's so," assented her brother. "It's the first time I ever forgot it
in my life. Say, what are you going to do with that big hasp-bar,
Sally?"

Miss Steel's movements were perhaps a little nervous, but she was
evidently not troubled by timidity. "I figured if anybody wanted to come
poking in here it might keep them out--if it was nicely warmed," she
said.

"You must do nothing rash; and you must keep out of harm's way, Sally,"
I said sternly. "They would be justified in seizing my household
property."

"There's mighty little of it." And Miss Steel glanced around the room
with contempt. "Do you figure Lane would come out hundreds of miles for
your old crockery? Anything that's pretty round this place is mine, and
I'm anxious to see the man who's going to take it from me."

I looked at the excited girl and then at her brother, who shook his head
in signal that further remonstrance would be useless. My ideas
respecting women had changed of late, and I somewhat resented the fact
that they would not be content to sit still and be worshiped, but must
insist on playing an active, and often a leading, part in all that
happened.

"When Sally has made up her mind there's no use for anybody to talk,"
said Steel.

I had hardly mounted to the roof again before a line of diminutive
objects straggled up above the horizon, and I called down: "They're
coming!"

"Which way?" was the eager question; and Steel stamped when I answered
moodily: "From the south."

"Lane's outfit. Can't you see the others?" he shouted.

I swept the glasses around the circumference of the prairie, and my
voice was thick with disappointment as I answered: "No."

"Then you and I will have all we can do; and I wish to the Lord Sally
were anywhere else," said Steel.

The diminutive figures rapidly resolved themselves into mounted men,
with a wagon behind them, but still all the rest of the prairie was
empty, and each time Steel asked the question: "Can't you see them yet?"
I grew more doggedly savage as I answered: "No."

At last, when the money-lender's party were close at hand, I called out
that three horsemen were just visible in the north. "That's Gordon;
Jacques and the rest can't be here for a long while. It's time to come
down," said Steel.

I came down, guessing that Lane, being on a lower level, could not see
our allies, and waited with Steel, apparently unarmed, though we had
weapons handy, in the space between the house and the stable. Sally had
disappeared inside the dwelling, and I trusted that she would remain
there. Presently, amid a rattle of gear and a confused trampling, a band
of men rode up to the homestead and ranged themselves in rude order on
each side of a wagon, some of them yelling in imitation of the American
cowboy as they wheeled. They were unkempt, dirty, and dissolute in
appearance, and I was not altogether surprised to see that most of them
were English or Americans. One finds very little errant rascality on the
Canadian prairie, perhaps because our money is very hardly earned, and
there are few people worth exploiting there; but odd specimens exported
from the great Republic and from the Old Country by disgusted friends
gravitate towards the smaller Western cities when they find life in the
waste too hard, and Lane had evidently collected some of the worst of
them. He sat in the wagon, smoking, and actually smiled at me.

"Kind of surprise party, isn't it, Ormesby?" he said. "I've come round
to collect what I can in accordance with the notice served on you.
Here's a wallet full of papers, and this gentleman represents legal
authority. He had a partner, but we lost him. Now, I've no personal
feeling against you, and won't give you any trouble if it can be
avoided."

Strange to say, I believed he spoke no more than the truth, and regarded
us dispassionately as merely a source from which a little profit might
be wrung. Neither Steel nor I, however, could look at the matter with
equal calmness. We were standing for our rights, and ready to strike for
shelter and daily bread, while the memory of former wrongs and a fierce
revolt against the rich man's oppression fired our blood. Nevertheless,
I remembered that it was necessary to gain time, and answered as coolly
as I could:

"In the first place, the stock and horses belong to my neighbors, and in
the second, you will be overstepping limits if you violently break into
any part of my homestead. Neither does the law allow any private
individual to gather a band of ruffians and forcibly seize his debtor's
property."

Lane probed his cigar with slow deliberateness. "You are growing quite
smart, Ormesby; but isn't it a pity you didn't display your acumen
earlier? I don't know that a stable can be considered a dwelling under
the homestead regulations, and there's nothing to prevent any man from
hiring assistance to drive home sequestrated cattle. It is this
gentleman's business to seize them, not mine. Neither is it clear how
far a proved agreement to feed another person's stock frees them of a
lien for debt. Have you got any in writing?"

It was evident that, in homely parlance, my adversary held the best end
of the stick. The administration of justice is necessarily somewhat
rough-and-ready in the West, and I saw that the representative of legal
authority was at least two-thirds drunk. I also had little doubt that
Lane's mercenaries would act independently of him; while if they
exceeded legal limits there would be only our testimony to prove it
against a dozen witnesses. Possession was evidently everything.

Lane had possibly guessed my thoughts, for he said: "Don't be mad enough
to start a circus, Ormesby. We have come a long way for the beasts, and
mean to get them. Can't you see that we could beat you if it came to
testimony? And I don't mind admitting that these rascals are not
particular."

His tranquillity enraged me, but I managed to answer him: "If you drive
a hoof off you will have to defend your action against richer men than
I."

"Well, I'll take my chances. It would cost them piles of money, and they
would gain nothing then," he said. "Say, officer, hadn't you better
begin?"

"Gotsh any papersh to prove objection?" demanded that individual,
turning to me. And I took no pains to hide my disgust as I answered: "If
I had I should not trouble to show them to you."

Steel, however, broke in: "We have. I'll show you a receipt for so many
beasts to be fattened for Roland Adams."

"Whersh you keep them?" demanded the other.

"Where you won't find them; 'way back on the prairie," Steel answered
triumphantly.

It was a blunder, for the other, who had a little shrewdness left,
straightened himself. "Then all the beastsh heah belong to someone
else," he said, with a tipsy leer, and waved his hand to the rest. "No
papersh worth a shent. Whasher foolin' for? We'll just walk into the
stable."

Several men sprang from their saddles, but Steel reached the door ahead
of them, and stood with his back against it, swinging a great birch
staff. "Nobody comes in here," he said.

I was at his side the next moment with a keen hay-fork, and the men
halted in a semi-circle at the sight of our grim faces.

"These points will reach anybody within six feet," I said.

"Better quit fooling while your hide's whole. There's 'most a dozen of
us," said one, while another criticised my personal appearance in
uncomplimentary terms. One or two in the background advised their
comrades as to how we might best be maimed, but stood fast themselves,
for Steel was big and brawny, and looked coolly murderous as he balanced
the heavy staff; while whoever looked at me did so over the twin points
of steel. The interlude lasted at least a minute, and I listened with
strained attention for the thud of hoofs. Gordon could not be far off,
but he remained invisible behind a low rise, even if the buildings had
not obscured our view. Then a newcomer shoved his way through the rest,
and I saw that he was the genuine article as he stood before me in
Montana cattle-rider's dress.

"It's a mighty poor show you're making, boys," he said contemptuously.
"Stand out of my way. You can pick up the pieces when I've done with
them."

He danced up and down a few paces and yelled, either to bewilder or to
impress us, and I was conscious of a grim amusement, while Steel watched
him narrowly. Then, for the man had spirit enough, he leaped at Steel
like a panther, with something in his hand that twinkled. He was,
however, a second too late, for the birch staff met him in the center of
his face, and, falling like a log, he lay where he fell. Steel
deliberately snapped the knife beneath his heel, and Lane shouted
something as my comrade said: "The next man I down at that trick will
get his skull smashed in."

There was a wrathful cry from the others, which convinced me that if we
took our eyes off them for an instant the rush would come; but they
hesitated, and Steel, standing poised with one foot forward and baleful
eyes, made the staff whistle round his head. "You're a mighty long time
beginning. Who's next--or maybe you only brought one man along?" he
said.

"Where's that blamed officer? I guess this is his job," said one; but
the worthy mentioned drew further back from the edge of the group.

"Deputsh you my authority. Thish not a house. Only beastsh live in
stables," he explained.

"Better get it over. Sail in!" said one of the biggest, and there was a
shout of "Look out!" from Steel.

Four or five men made a rush upon us, and, not wishing to inflict lethal
injuries unless my life were threatened, I had barely time to reverse
the fork before they were within striking distance. Another reeled
backwards headlong beneath the staff, and, knowing that a thrust is more
effective and harder to evade than a blow, I used the long-hafted fork,
blunt-end foremost, as a pike with considerable success. The struggle
continued for perhaps a minute, and was sharp while it lasted. Several
times a panting man got within my guard, and Steel brought him down; but
I was struck heavily, and had only a blurred vision of waving arms,
scowling faces, and the whirling staff, while the air seemed filled with
discordant shouts of encouragement from those outside. Either by sheer
force of desperation, or by the power of better weapons, we wore them
out, and the group broke up. One or two limped badly as they straggled
back, some swore, and there was blood on the faces and garments of the
rest.

"One fellow got me badly on the chest," said Steel, who breathed
heavily, and I was conscious of several painful spots; and when I had
recovered breath I saw that Lane had drawn his wagon back some distance,
and was apparently upbraiding his bodyguard in no measured terms.

"Jump clear!" cried Steel presently, and I sprang aside a moment too
late, for an exultant shout went up when a heavy billet struck me on the
head. I felt the blood trickle warm and sticky into one eye, and I fell
against the door feeling faint and sick, then stiffened myself again,
with the fork held points foremost this time. Lane, it seemed, had lost
control of his followers, and would doubtless rely on hard swearing to
protect himself from unfortunate consequences, for I now suspected there
would be bloodshed unless help arrived very shortly.

"They're going for the house, and Sally's inside there," cried Steel;
and for the first time I remembered that the dwelling was unprotected,
and feared that the girl had not slipped away, as she might have done by
a rear window.

One of Lane's men reached the threshold before we did, and three or four
others followed hard upon his heels. The door was wide open, and I
sincerely trusted that Sally had made her escape. She had not, however,
for the handle of a long brush swung out, and the first ruffian who
rushed at the entrance staggered backwards against the comrade behind
him. Steel flung him headlong the next moment; the rest yielded passage
before the tines of the fork, and we sprang into the house, while our
enemy's reinforcements came up at a run. So far we had succeeded better
than might have been expected, but our adversaries were growing furious,
and the defense of our property no longer appeared the main question.
The girl had dropped the brush and grasped a red-ended iron bar.

"Give it to me, and reach down that rifle, Sally," I gasped, and while
Steel dragged up furniture for a barricade, the rest, not knowing its
magazine was empty, recoiled before the Winchester muzzle.

"I'll be through in another minute. Keep them out," Steel said.

A brief respite followed, for the iron was glowing still, and our
enemies' supply of missiles was evidently exhausted; but as we waited,
wondering what would happen next, I heard a beat of hoofs, and Sally
cried out triumphantly as three well-mounted men swept up at a gallop.

"Ride over them!" shouted somebody. Warning cries went up, there was a
scattering of Lane's ruffians, and the leading horseman pulled up his
beast just outside the door. He was dripping with perspiration,
bespattered all over, and his horse was white with lather.

"Couldn't get through earlier. Jacques' boys are away, but we sent a man
to look for them, and he'll bring them along," he said.

We were very glad to see Rancher Gordon and his sturdy followers,
though it was bad news he brought. Further reinforcements could hardly
arrive in time to be of service, and where we had expected more than a
dozen we must be content with three. Meanwhile, Lane's men had mounted
and were trotting off across the prairie.

"They have probably gone in search of the loose stock. Come in. We have
got to talk over our next step," I said.

The newcomers did so, and we were all glad of a breathing space. My head
was somewhat badly cut, several purple bruises adorned my comrade's
countenance, and the rest had ridden a long way in furious haste. At
first the conference was conducted in half-breathless gasps, then the
voices deepened into a sonorous ring, and I can recall the intent
bronzed faces turned towards me, the thoughtful pauses when each speaker
had aired his views, and how the slanting sunlight beat into the partly
shadowed room. Last of all Rancher Gordon spoke: "We are waiting to hear
your notions, Ormesby."

"The stable and corral must be held at any cost," I said, smearing my
hands as I tried to clear my eye, while red drops splashed from them on
to the table. "While that ought to be possible, we are hardly strong
enough to force a fight in the open unless it is necessary. Lane's
rascals may not find the stock, and may only be trying to draw us off,
so my decision is to remain here. If they are successful we can see them
from the roof, and must run the risk of taking their plunder from them.
Should we fail we could follow them when our friends turn up."

"That's about my notion. We'll see you through with it," said Gordon
quietly.

We had waited a considerable time before Steel hailed us from the roof
that he could see our enemies riding south behind a bunch of cattle, and
we mounted forthwith. There were now three rifles among us, but we had
agreed these were not to be used unless somebody fired upon us. Riders
and cattle dipped into a hollow, and we had covered several miles
before we sighted them again. Lane and the representative of authority
no longer accompanied them. The whole body wheeled around and halted
when we came up. There was sweet grass in the hollow, so the cattle
halted too, and for a space we sat silent, looking at one another. I
dare not risk a blunder in face of such odds, though I determined to
make an effort to recover the stock.

"You make us tired," said the American, whose face was partly covered by
a dirty rag. "Go to perdition, before we make you!"

He waved his arm around the horizon, as though to indicate where the
place in question lay, and I edged my horse a little nearer to him. He
was the leading spirit, and it seemed possible that we might perhaps
disperse the rest if I could dismount him. The man had evidently
recovered from Steel's blow.

"We are not going away without the cattle, and you can see there are
more of us now, while two proved too many for you before," I said, still
decreasing the distance between us; but my adversary perhaps divined my
intention, for a short barrel glinted in his hand when he raised it.

"It's going to be different this time. Keep back while you're safe," he
said.

There was apparently no help for it, and I was not quite certain he
would shoot, so balancing the long fork, lance fashion, I tightened my
grip on the bridle, when Gordon drove his horse against me and gripped
it violently. "Hold on; the boys are coming!" he said.

Friends and foes alike had been too intent to notice anything beyond
each other during the past few minutes; but now a drumming of hoofs rose
from behind the rise which shut in the hollow. Then a drawn-out line of
mounted men came flying down the slope, and Steel flung his hat up with
a triumphant yell. "It's the Bonaventure boys," he said. "There's Adams
and Miss Haldane leading them."

The American looked in my direction, and raised his hand in ironical
salute. "I'm sorry to miss a clinch with you. It would have been a good
one, but I can't stay," he said. "Get on, you skulking coyotes. Unless
you're smart in lighting out those cow drivers won't leave much of you."

His subordinates took the hint, and bolted down the hollow as hard as
they could ride, while I drew a deep breath and turned towards the
rescue party.




CHAPTER XVII

THE RAISING OF THE SIEGE


They were splendid horsemen who rode to our assistance, and their beasts
as fine; but a slight figure led them a clear length ahead. In another
minute Gordon's men copied their leader, who trotted forward with his
broad hat at his knee, and I rode bareheaded with--though I had
forgotten this--an ensanguined face, to greet the mistress of
Bonaventure. She was glowing with excitement, and I had never seen
anything equal the fine damask in her cheeks. She started at the sight
of me, and then impulsively held out a well-gloved hand.

"I hope you are not badly hurt?" she said.

"Only cut a trifle," I answered, gripping the little hand fervently.
"You have done a great deal for us, and no doubt prevented serious
bloodshed. It was wonderfully----"

"Don't. It was not in any way wonderful. My father was absent when Mr.
Boone brought me the news, and, as you know, I am responsible for the
prosperity of Bonaventure in his absence. Our cattle were in jeopardy."

She ceased abruptly, and grew pale, while I felt ashamed when I saw the
cause of it. My hands had been reddened from clearing my eyes, and glove
and wrist were foul with crimson stains. Courageous as she was, the girl
had sickened at the sight of them.

"I can't excuse myself. You must try to forgive me," I said. "Please
don't look at it."

Lucille Haldane promptly recovered from the shock of repulsion. "How
could you help it--and you were hurt protecting our cattle. I can see
the brand on some," she said. "It was very foolish of me to show such
weakness."

"You must come back to the house with me at once and rest," I said. "I'm
indebted to you, boys, but the best way you could help me would be to
drive those cattle into the corral. Then, for you are probably tired and
hungry, come up and see what Sally Steel can find for you."

The newcomers hesitated, and inquired whether they might not pursue and
chastise our adversaries instead, but Lucille Haldane rebuked them. "You
will do just what Rancher Ormesby tells you," she said; and, turning
towards me, added: "I am ready to go with you."

Lucille was still a trifle pale, and wondering, because I could not see
myself, that one with so much spirit should be affected by such a small
thing, I presently dismounted and led her horse by the bridle. I had
torn off the offending glove, and when we halted by the corral would
have removed the stains from the wrist with a handkerchief.

"No," said Lucile, snatching her hand away just too late, with a gesture
of dismay, "do not touch it with that, please."

Then I remembered that the handkerchief had last been used to rub out
the fouled breach of a gun. The girl looked at the blur of red and black
which resulted from my efforts, and frowned, then broke out into a
rippling laugh. "Beatrice said your ways were refreshingly primitive,
and I think she was right," she said.

The laugh put heart into me, but I still held the bridle with an
ensanguined hand close beside the little smeared one; and so, followed
by as fine an escort as a princess could desire, we came to my door side
by side.

However, when I helped Lucille Haldane from the saddle I had misgivings
concerning the reception Steel's sister might accord her. Sally's
loyalty to her friends was worthy of her name; but she was stanchly
democratic, more than a little jealous, and not addicted to concealing
her prejudices. The fears were groundless. Sally was waiting in the
doorway she had defended, and while I hoped for the best, the two stood
a moment face to face. They were both worthy of inspection, though the
contrast between them was marked. Haldane's daughter was slight and
slender, with grace and refinement stamped equally on every line of her
delicately chiseled face and on the curve of her dainty figure down to
the little feet beneath the riding skirt. Sally was round and ruddy of
countenance, stalwart in frame, with the carriage of an Amazon, and, I
think, could have crushed Lucille with a grip of her arms; but both had
an ample portion of the spirit of their race.

Then Steel's sister, stepping forward, took both the girl's hands within
her own, stooped a little, and kissed her on each cheek, after which she
drew her into the house, leaving her brother and myself equally
astonished. He looked at me whimsically, and though I tried, I could not
frown.

"That's about the last thing I expected. How does it strike you?" he
said. "Afraid of committing yourself? Well, I don't mind allowing I
expected most anything else. All women are curious, but there's no
understanding Sally."

We were not left long to wonder, for Miss Steel reappeared in the
doorway.

"You two still standing there as if there were nothing to do! Get a big
fire on in the outside stove and kill about half the chickens. You're
not to come in, Harry Ormesby, until I've fixed you so you're fit to be
seen."

I feared that Lucille heard her, and wondered what she thought. Our mode
of life was widely different from that at Bonaventure and from what
would have been for me possible had I not fallen into the hands of Lane.

We slew the chickens with the assistance of the newcomers, and sat down
on the grass to pluck them, a fowl for every guest, although I was
slightly uncertain whether that would be sufficient. There is a
similarity between the very old and the very new, and ancient poets
perhaps best portray the primitive, sometimes heroic, life of effort the
modern stockrider and plowman lead on the prairie.

"Why did you bring Miss Haldane, Boone? You should have known better
than to allow her to run the slightest risk," I said, on opportunity;
and the photographer smiled enigmatically.

"Miss Haldane did not ask my permission, and I am doubtful whether
anybody could have prevented her. She said she was mistress of
Bonaventure, and the way the men stirred when she told them was proof
enough that one could believe her."

Presently Sally came out with a roll of sticking-plaster, and, while
every bachelor present offered assistance and advice, she proceeded to
"fix me," as she expressed it. Then, amid a burst of laughter, she stood
back a little to survey her work with pride.

"I guess you can come in. You look too nice for anything. Gordon and
Adams, you'll walk in, too. The rest will find all you want in the cook
shed, and it will be your own fault if you don't help yourselves."

I was a little astonished when, with a cloth bound round my head, I
entered the house, for Miss Steel was in some respects a genius. There
was no trace of disorder. Sally was immaculately neat; Lucille Haldane
might never have passed the door of Bonaventure; and the two had
apparently become good friends, while a table had been set out with
Sally's pretty crockery, and, as I noticed, an absolutely spotless
cloth, which was something of a rarity. I was glad of the presence of
Boone, for Gordon was a big, gaunt, silent man, and the events of the
day had driven any conversational gifts we possessed out of both Steel
and myself. When it pleased him, Adams, by which name alone he was known
to the rest, could entertain anybody, and that, too, in their own
particular idiom. There was no trace of the pedlar about him now, and
his English was the best spoken in the Old Country. I noticed Lucille
Haldane looked hard at him when she took her place at the table.

"It is curious, but I have been haunted by a feeling that we have met
before to-day," she said. "If I am mistaken, it must have been somebody
who strongly resembles you."

For just a moment Boone looked uneasy, but he answered with a smile: "I
don't monopolize all the good looks on the prairie."

The girl flashed a swift sidelong glance at me, and I feared my
countenance was too wooden to be natural. "I am sure of the resemblance
now, though there is a change. It was one evening at Bonaventure, was it
not?" she said. "Have you forgotten me?"

"That would be impossible," and Boone bent his head a little as he made
the best of it. "I see that, if necessary I could rely on Miss Haldane's
kindness a second time."

Lucille looked thoughtful, Sally inquisitive, and I feared the latter
might complicate circumstances by attempting to probe the mystery.
Neither Gordon nor Steel noticed anything, but Boone was a judge of
character and Lucille keen of wit. He asked nothing further, but I saw a
question in his eyes.

"I think you could do so," she said. "You seem to have trusty friends,
Rancher Ormesby; though that is not surprising on the prairie."

The words were simply spoken, and wholly unstudied; but Lucille Haldane
had a very graceful way, and there was that in her eyes which brought a
sparkle into those of Sally, and I saw had made the silent Gordon her
slave. Her gift of fascination was part of her birthright, and she used
it naturally without taint of artifice.

"Could anybody doubt it after to-day?" I said.

Then Boone smiled dryly. "I suppose it devolves upon me to acknowledge
the compliment, and I am afraid that some of his friends are better than
he deserves," he said. "At least, I am willing to testify that Rancher
Ormesby does not importune them, for I never met any man slower to
accept either good advice or well-meant assistance. Have you not found
it so, Miss Steel?"

"All you men are foolish, and most of you slow," Sally answered archly.
"I had to convince one with a big hard brush to-day."

This commenced the relation of reminiscences, mostly humorous, of the
affray, for we could afford to laugh, and all joined in the burst of
merriment which rose from outside when several horsemen came up at a
gallop across the prairie. A stockrider of Caledonian extraction had
borrowed my banjo to amuse his comrades, and they appreciated his irony
when he played the new arrivals in to the tune of "The Campbells are
coming."

Then he took off his hat to the uniformed figure which led the advance.
"Ye're surely lang in comin', Sergeant, dear," he said.

There was another roar of laughter, and I heard Mackay's voice. "It was
no' my fault, and ye should ken what kind of horses ye sell the
Government; but now I'm here I'm tempted to arrest the whole of ye for
unlawful rioting!"

He halted in the doorway with displeasure in his face, and, disregarding
my invitation, waited until Miss Haldane bade him be seated, while
before commencing an attack upon a fowl, he said dryly: "Maybe I had
better begin my business first. It would be a poor return to eat your
supper and than arrest ye, Ormesby."

"You had better make sure of the supper, and if you can take me out of
the hands of my allies you are welcome to," I said.

Boone's lips twitched once or twice as though in enjoyment of a hidden
joke as he discoursed with the sergeant upon the handling of mounted men
and horses. He showed, I fancied, a curious knowledge of cavalry
equipment and maneuvers, and Mackay was evidently struck with his
opinions. I also saw Lucille Haldane smile when the sergeant said: "If
ever ye pass my station come in and see me. It's a matter o' regret to
me I had not already met ye."

"Thanks," said Boone, just moving his eyebrows as he looked across at
me. "I narrowly missed spending some time in your company a little while
ago."

"And now to business," said Mackay, with a last regretful glance at the
skeletonized chicken. "From what I gather ye are all of ye implicated. I
would like an account from Mr. Adams and Miss Haldane first."

"How did you come here instead of Gardiner; and how do you know there
is anything for you to trouble about?" I asked, and the sergeant showed
a trace of impatience.

"Gardiner goes back to-morrow. Ye are my own particular sheep, and it
would take a new man ten years to learn the contrariness of ye. I heard
some talk at the railroad and came on in a hurry. Do ye usually nail
your stable or cut your own head open, Rancher Ormesby?"

Each in turn furnished an account of the affray, I last of all; and
Mackay expressed no opinion until Lucille Haldane asked him: "Was it not
justifiable for me to take measures to protect my father's cattle?"

"Supposing the Bonaventure brand had not been on that draft, and Lane's
men retained possession, what would ye have done?" was the shrewd
rejoinder; and Lucille smiled as she looked steadily at the speaker.

"I really think, sergeant, that I should have ridden over them."

Mackay seemed to struggle with some natural feeling; but the silent
rancher smote the table. "By the Lord, you would, and I'd have given
five hundred dollars to go through beside you!" he said.

"Ye are quite old enough to ken better," said Mackay sententiously; and
the rancher squared his shoulders as he answered:

"I'm as good as any two of your troopers yet, and was never run into a
cattle corral. When I'm old enough to be useless I'll join the police."

"What were ye meaning?" asked the sergeant.

Gordon laughed. "Just that, for a tired man, it's a nice soft berth. You
take your money and as much care as you can that you never turn up until
the trouble's over!"

Before Mackay could retort, Lucille, smiling, raised her hand. "I think
you should both know better, and I want you to tell me, sergeant, what
will be the end of this. Surely nobody has any right to drive off cattle
and horses that don't belong to him?"

Mackay looked somewhat troubled, and one could guess that while eager
to please the fair questioner, he shrank with official caution from
committing himself. "It's not my part to express an opinion on points
that puzzle some lawyers," he said. "Still, I might tell ye that it will
cost one man his position. Human nature's aye deceitful, Miss Haldane,
and if Rancher Ormesby prosecuted them it would be just two or three
men's word against a dozen. Forby, they might make out illegal
resistance against him!"

"Sergeant," said Lucille Haldane, looking at him severely, "dare you
tell me that you would not take the word of three ranchers against the
oath of a dozen such men as Lane?"

Mackay smiled, though he answered dryly: "They're both hard to manage,
and ungrateful for their benefits; but maybe I would. Still, I am, ye
see, neither judge nor jury. Would ye prefer a charge against them,
Ormesby?"

I was willing enough to do so, but had already reflected. Every moment
of my time was needed, the nearest seat of justice was far away, and it
would be only helping Lane if I wasted days attempting to substantiate a
charge. I also surmised by his prompt disappearance when the fracas
became serious that it would be very difficult to implicate my enemy,
even if he did not turn the tables on me. Boone, when I looked at him,
made a just perceptible negative movement with his head.

"I must leave this affair to the discretion of the police," I said.
"Several of Lane's friends have good cause to be sorry for themselves
already, and it is hardly likely his action will be repeated."

Mackay said nothing further, and shortly afterwards Lucille said she
must take her departure. Sally stood smiling in the doorway while the
riders of Bonaventure did her homage, and those whose compliments did
not please her suffered for their clumsiness. When I rode out with
Lucille Haldane there was a lifting of wide hats, and the sergeant,
sitting upright in his saddle, saluted her as we passed with several
splendid horsemen riding on each side.

I afterwards heard that Sally said to him mischievously: "I guess you
men don't quite know everything. How long did it take you to break your
troopers in? Yonder's a slip of a girl who knows nothing of discipline
or drill, and there's not a man in all that outfit wouldn't ride right
into the place where bad policemen go if she told him to. As good as
your troopers, aren't they? What are you thinking now?"

The sergeant followed her pointing hand, and, as it happened, Lucille
and I were just passing beyond the rise riding close together side by
side. Mackay looked steadily after us, and doubtless noticed that
Lucille rode very well. "I would not blame them. I'm just thinking I'm
sorry for Corporal Cotton," he said.

Sally looked away across the prairie, and, turning, saw a faint smile
fade out of the sergeant's face. "What do you mean? Can't you ever talk
straight like a sensible man?" she asked.

"The corporal's young, an' needs considerable convincing," was the dry
answer.

When we dipped beyond the rise I turned to Lucille Haldane. "What did
you think of Sally? She is a stanch ally, but not always effusive to
strangers," I said.

I could not at the moment understand Lucille Haldane's expression. The
question was very simple, but the girl showed a trace of confusion, and
was apparently troubled as to how she should frame the answer. This did
not, however, last long, and when she raised her eyes to mine there was
in them the same look of confidence there had been when she said, "I
believe in you." It was very pleasant to see.

"I think a great deal of her, and must repeat what I said already. You
have very loyal friends. Miss Steel told me at length how kind you had
been to her and her brother, and I think they will fully repay you."

My wits must have been sharpened, for I understood, and blessed both
Sally and the speaker. If Lucille Haldane, being slow to think evil,
had faith in those she knew, it was possible she was glad of proof to
justify the confidence, and Sally must have furnished it.

"They have done so already," I said.

There was always something very winning about my companion, but she had
never appeared so desirable as she did just then. The day was drawing
towards its close, and the light in the west called up the warm coloring
that the wind and sun had brought into her face and showed each grace of
the slight figure silhouetted against it. The former was, perhaps, not
striking at first sight, though, with its setting of ruddy gold, and its
hazel eyes filled with swift changes, it was pretty enough; but its
charm grew upon one, and I noticed that when she patted the horse's neck
the dumb beast moved as though it loved her. There was nothing of the
Amazon about its rider except her courage.

"I have heard a good deal about your enemy and yourself of late, but
there are several points that puzzle me, and, though I know you have his
sympathies, father is not communicative," she said. "For instance, if
you do not resent the allusion, he could with so little trouble have
made a difference in the result of your sale."

"How could that be?" I asked, merely to see how far the speaker's
interest in my affairs had carried her, and she answered: "Even if there
had been nothing we needed at Bonaventure he could have made the others
pay fair prices for all they bought. I cannot understand why he said it
was better not to do so."

I also failed to understand; but a light broke in upon me. "Did you
suggest that he should?" I asked, and the girl answered with some
reluctance: "Yes; was it not natural that I should?"

"No one who knew you could doubt it," I said; and Lucille Haldane
presently dismissed me. I sat still and watched her and her escort
diminish across the long levels, and then rode slowly back towards Crane
Valley. Remembering Haldane's mention of a promise, the news that it was
his younger daughter who sent him to my assistance brought at first a
shock of disappointment. I had already convinced myself that Beatrice
Haldane must remain very far beyond my reach, but the thought that she
had remembered me and sent what help she could had been comforting,
nevertheless. Now it seemed that she had forgotten, and that that
consolation must be abandoned, too. And yet the disappointment was not
so crushing but that I could bear it with the rest. What might have been
had passed beyond the limits of possibility, and there was nothing in
the future to look forward to except a struggle against poverty and the
wiles of my enemy.

Steel took my horse when I rode up to the house, and it was a
coincidence that his first remark should be: "We beat him badly this
time and he'll lie low a while. Then I guess you'll want both eyes open
when he tries his luck again."




CHAPTER XVIII

THE VIGIL-KEEPER


It was a clear starlit night when I rode across a tract of the
Assiniboian prairie, some two hundred miles east of Crane Valley. A
half-moon hung in the cloudless ether, and the endless levels, lying
very silent under its pale radiance, seemed to roll away into infinity.
They had no boundary, for the blueness above them melted imperceptibly
through neutral gradations into the earth below, which, gathering
strength of tone, stretched back again to the center of the lower circle
a vast sweep of silvery gray.

There was absolute stillness, not even a grass blade moved; but the air
was filled with the presage of summer, and the softness of the carpet,
which returned no sound beneath the horse's feet, had its significance.
That sod had been bleached by wind-packed snow and bound into iron
hardness by months of arctic frost. Bird and beast had left it, and the
waste had lain empty under the coldness of death; but life had once more
conquered, and the earth was green again. Even among the almost
unlettered born upon it there are few men impervious to the influence of
the prairie on such a night; and in days not long gone by the half-breed
_voyageurs_ told strange stories of visions seen on it during the lonely
journeys they made for the great fur-trading company. Its vastness and
its emptiness impresses the human atom who becomes conscious of an
indefinite awe or is uplifted by an exaltation which vanishes with the
dawn, for there are times when, through the silence of measureless
spaces, man's spirit rises into partial touch with the greater things
unseen.

My errand was prosaic enough--merely to buy cattle for Haldane and
others on a sliding-scale arrangement. I could see a possibility of
some small financial benefit, and that being so had reluctantly left
Crane Valley, where I was badly needed, because the need of money was
even greater. Also, as time was precious, I had decided to travel all
night instead of spending it as a guest of the last farmer with whom I
bargained. I was at that time neither very imaginative nor
oversentimental; but the spell of the prairie was stronger than my will,
and, yielding to it, I rode dreamily, so it seemed, beyond the reach of
petty troubles and the clamor of our sordid strife into a shadowy land
of peace which, defying the centuries, had retained unchanged its solemn
stillness. The stars alone sufficed to call up the fancy, for there
being neither visible heavens nor palpable atmosphere, only a blue
transparency, the eye could follow the twinkling points of flame far
backwards from one to another through the unknown spaces beyond our
little globe. Nothing seemed impossible on such a night, and only the
touch of the bridle and the faint jingle of metal material.

It was in this mood that I became conscious of a shadow object near the
foot of a rise. It did not seem a natural portion of the prairie, and
when I had covered some distance it resolved itself into a horse and a
dismounted man. His broad hat hung low in his hand, his head was bent,
and he stood so intent that I had almost ridden up to him before he
turned and noticed me. Then, as I checked my horse, I saw that it was
Boone.

"What has brought you here?" I asked.

"That I cannot exactly tell you when we know so little of the influences
about us on such a night as this. It is at least one stage of a
pilgrimage I must make," he said.

Had this answer been given me in the sunlight I should have doubted the
speaker's mental balance, but one sets up a new standard of sanity on
the starlit prairie on a night of spring, and I saw only that the spell
was also upon him. He held a great bunch of lilies (which do not grow on
the bare Western levels) in one hand, and his face was changed. Even in
Boone's reckless humor there had been a sardonic vein which sometimes
added a sting to the jest, and I knew what the shadow was that accounted
for his fits of silent grimness. Now he seemed strangely calm, but
rather reverent than sad.

"I cannot understand you," I said.

"No?" he answered quietly. "How soon you have forgotten; but you helped
me once. Come, and I will show you."

He tethered his horse to an iron peg, beckoned me to do the same, and
then, moving forward until we stood on the highest of the rise, pointed
to something that rose darkly from the grass. Then I remembered, and
swung my hat to my knee, as my eyes rested on a little wooden cross.
Following the hand he stretched out, I could read the rude letters cut
on it--"Helen Boone."

He stooped, and, I fancied with some surprise, lifted a glass vessel
from beneath a handful of withered stalks. He shook them out gently,
laid the fresh blossoms in their place, and a faint fragrance rose like
incense through the coolness of the dew. Then he turned, and I followed
him to where we had left the horses. "There are still kind souls on this
earth, and one of them placed that vessel under the last flowers I left.
You have a partial answer to your question now."

I bent my head, and seeing that he was not averse to speech, said
quietly: "You come here sometimes? It is a long journey."

"Yes," was the answer; and Boone's voice vibrated. "She who sleeps there
gave up a life of luxury for me; and is a three-hundred-mile journey too
much to make, or a summer night too long to watch beside her? I am drawn
here, and there are times when one wonders if it is possible for us to
rise into partial communion with those who have passed into the darkness
before us."

"It is all," I answered gravely, "a mystery to me. Can you conceive such
a possibility?"

"Not in any tangible shape to such as I, but this at least I know. In
spite of the destruction of the mortal clay, when I can see my way no
further, and lose courage in my task, fresh strength comes to me after
a night spent here."

"Your task?" I said. "I guessed that there was a motive behind your
wanderings."

"There is one," and Boone's voice rose to its natural level. "The wagon
journeys suit it well. Had Lane ruined me alone I should have tried to
pay my forfeit for inexperience and the risk I took gracefully; but when
I saw the woman, who had lain down so much for me, fading day by day
that he might add to his power of oppressing others the money which
would have saved her life, the case was different. The last part he
played in the pitiful drama was that of murderer, and the loss he
inflicted on me one that could never be forgiven."

"And you are waiting revenge?" I asked.

"No." Boone looked back towards the crest of the rise. "At first I did
so, but it is justice that prompts me now. I have a full share of human
passions, and once I lay in wait for him with a rifle--my throat parched
and a fire of torment in my heart; but when he passed at midnight within
ten paces I held my hand and let him go. Perhaps it was because I could
not take the life of even that venomous creature in cold blood, and
feared he would not face me. Perhaps another will was stronger than my
own, for, with every purpose strained against what seemed weakness, it
was borne in on me that I could not force him to stand with a weapon,
and that I dare not kill him groveling. Then the power went out of me,
and I let him go. Yet I have twice lain long hours in hot sand under a
deadly rifle fire, Ormesby. There are many mysteries, and as yet it is
very little that we know."

"But you are following him still, are you not?" I asked. And Boone
continued: "As I said, it is for justice, and it was here I learned the
difference. I would not take the reptile's life unless he met me armed
in the daylight, which he would never do; but for the sake of
others--you and the rest, whose toil and blood he fattens on--I am
waiting and working for the time when, without a crime, it may be
possible to end his career of evil."

We were both silent for a few minutes, and I felt that Boone's task,
self-imposed or otherwise, was a worthy one. Lane was a man without
either anger or compassion--an incarnation of cunning and avarice more
terrible to human welfare than any legendary monster of the olden time.
It was no figure of speech to declare that he fattened on poor men's
blood and agony, and his overthrow could not be anything but a blessing.
Still, it was in prosaic speech that, considering the practical aspect
of the question, I said: "I wish you luck, but you will need a long
patience, besides time and money."

"I have them," was the answer. "The first was the hardest to acquire.
Time--I could wait ages if I knew the end was certain; and, as to money,
when it came too late to save her, someone died in the old country, and
part of the property fell to me. Well, you can guess my purpose--using
all means short of bloodshed and perjury to take him in his own net. She
who sleeps there was pitiful and gentle, but she hated oppression and
cruelty, and I feel that if she knows--and I think it is so--she would
smile on me."

Boone's face was plain before me under the moon. It was quietly
confident, calm, and yet stamped with a solemn purpose. He had, it
seemed, mastered his passions, and would perhaps be the more dangerous
because he followed tirelessly, with brain unclouded by hatred or
impatience. I felt that there was much I should say in the shape of
encouragement and sympathy, but the only words that rose to my lips
were: "He has fiendish cunning."

"And I was once a careless fool!" said Boone. "Still, the most cunning
forget, and blunder at times. I, however, can never forget, and when he
does, it will be ill for Lane. I have--I don't know why--spoken to you,
Ormesby, as I have spoken to no man in the Dominion before, and I feel I
need ask no promise of you. I am going east with the sunrise, but I must
be alone now."

I left him to keep his vigil with his dead, and camped in a hollow some
distance away. That is to say, I tethered the horse, rolled a thick
brown blanket round me, and used the saddle for a pillow. There was no
hardship in this. The grasses, if a trifle damp, were soft and springy,
the night still and warm; and many a better man has slept on a worse bed
in the Western Dominion. Slumber did not, however, come at first, and I
lay watching the stars, neither asleep nor wholly awake, until they grew
indistinct, and a woman's figure, impalpable as the moonlight, gathered
shape upon a rise of the prairie.

It was borne in on me that this was Helen Boone risen from her sleep;
for she was ethereal, and her face with its passionless calmness not
that of a mortal, while no shadow touched the grasses when she passed,
and, fading, gave place or changed into one I knew. Haldane's elder
daughter looked down at me from the rise, but she, too, seemed of
another world, wearing a cold serenity and a beauty that was not of this
earth. She also changed with a marvelous swiftness before my bewildered
vision, and it was now Lucille Haldane who moved across the prairie with
soft words of pity on her lips and yet anger in her eyes. She, at least,
appeared not transcendental, but a living, breathing creature of flesh
and blood subject to human weaknesses, and I raised myself on one elbow
to speak to her.

The prairie was empty. Nothing moved on it; even the horse stood still,
while, when I sank back again, moonlight and starlight went out
together; and perhaps it was as well, for, sleeping or waking, a plain
stock-raiser has no business with such fancies, and next morning I
convinced myself that I had dreamed it all. I had doubtless done so, and
the explanation was simple. The influence of the night, or the words of
Boone, had galvanized into abnormal activity some tiny convolution of
the brain; but, even that once granted, it formed the beginning, not the
end, of the question, and Boone had, it seemed, supplied the best
solution when he said we know so little as yet.

The sun was lifting above the prairie when I set out in search of Boone
with my horse's bridle over my arm. I met him swinging across the
springy sod in long elastic strides, but there was nothing about him
which suggested one preyed upon by morbid fancies or the visionary. His
eyes were a little heavy, but that was all, for with both of us the
dreams of the night had melted before the rising sun. The air had been
freshened by the dew, and the breeze, which dried the grasses, roused
one to a sense of human necessities and the knowledge that there was a
day's work to be done. I was also conscious of an unfanciful and very
prosaic emptiness.

"I wonder where we could get anything to eat. I have a long ride before
me," said Boone, when he greeted me.

"It can hardly be safe for you to be seen anywhere in this
neighborhood," I said; and Boone smiled.

"I walked openly into the railroad depot and asked for a package
yesterday. You forget that I partly changed my appearance, while, so far
as memory serves, only two police troopers occasionally saw me. The
others?--you should know your own kind better, Ormesby. Do you think any
settler in this region would take money--and Lane offered a round
sum--for betraying me?"

"No," I answered with a certain pride; "that is to say, not unless he
were a nominee of the man you name."

No proof of this was needed, but one was supplied us. A man who
presently strode out of a hollow stopped and stared at Boone. He was, to
judge from his appearance, one of the stolid bushmen who come out West
from the forests of Northern Ontario--tireless men with ax and plow, but
with little knowledge of anything else.

"I'm kind of good at remembering faces, and I've seen you before," he
said. "You are the man who used to own my place."

"How often have you seen me?" asked Boone.

"Once in clear daylight, twice back there at night," answered the
stranger.

"Did you know that you could have earned a good many dollars by telling
the police as much?" asked Boone; and the other regarded him with a
frown.

"I'm a peaceable man when people will let me be; but I don't take that
kind of talk from anybody."

"I was sure, or I shouldn't have asked you," said Boone. "They don't
raise mean Canadians yonder in the country you came from among the rocks
and trees. You're not overrich, either, are you? to judge from my own
experience, for I put more money into the land than I ever took out of
it. However, that doesn't concern the main thing. Just now I'm a hungry
man."

The big axman's face relaxed, and he laughed the deep, almost silent,
laugh which those like him learn in the shadow of the northern pines.
There is as little mirth in it as there is in most of their hard lives,
but one can generally trust them with soul and body.

"Breakfast will be ready soon's I get home. You just come along," he
said.

We followed him to the log-house which had risen beside Boone's
dilapidated dwelling. A neatly-dressed, dark-haired woman was busy about
the stove, and our host presented us very simply. "Here's the man who
shot the money-lender, and a partner, Lou."

The woman, who laid down the pan she held, cast a quick glance of
interest at my companion. "We have seen you, and wondered why you never
looked in," she said.

"Did you twice do a great kindness for me?" asked Boone.

The woman's black eyes softened. "Sure, that was a little thing, and
don't count for much. The posies were so pretty, and I figured they'd
keep fresh a little longer," she said.

"It was one of the little things which count the most," said Boone.

Thereupon the woman's olive-tinted face flushed into warmer color, while
her long-limbed spouse observed: "She's of the French habitant stock,
and their ways of showing they haven't forgotten aren't the same as
ours."

Breakfast was set before us, and I think Boone had made firm friends of
our hosts before we finished the meal. He had abilities in this
direction. They, on their part, were very simple people, the man silent
for the most part, rugged in face, and abrupt when he spoke, but shrewd
in his own way it seemed withal, and probably as generous as he was hard
at a bargain. His wife was of the more emotional Latin stock, quick in
her movements, and one might surmise equally quick in sympathy.

"You are not the man who bought the place at the sale," said Boone, at
length. "I can remember him tolerably well, and, if I couldn't, one
would hardly figure you were likely to work under Lane."

"No!" and the farmer laughed his curious laugh again. "No. I shouldn't
say. We never worked for any master since my grandfather got fired for
wanting his own way by the Hudson's Bay, and I guess neither Lane nor
the devil could handle the rest of us. He once came round to try."

"How?" I asked, and the gaunt farmer sighed a little as he filled his
pipe. "This way. He was open to finance me to buy up a poor devil's
place, and if I'd had a little less temper and a little more sense I
might have obliged him, and landed a good pile of money, too."

"He's just talking. Don't you believe him," broke in the woman, with an
indignant glance at her spouse.

I fancied Boone saw the drift of this, which was more than I did, and
the farmer nodded oracularly in his direction when I asked: "What did
you do instead?"

"Just reached for a big ox-goad, and walked up to him like a blame
millionaire or a hot-headed fool. Them negotiations broke right off, and
he lit out across the prairie talking 'bout assaults and violences at
twenty mile an hour. Some other man will know better, and that's just
how Lane will get badly left some day."

The woman laughed immoderately. "It was way better'n a circus," she
said. "He didn't tell you he rammed the ox-goad into the skittish horse,
and Lane he just hugged the beast."

The picture of the full-fledged Lane, who made a very poor figure in the
saddle at any time, careering panic stricken across the prairie with his
arms about the neck of a bolting horse appealed to me; but as to the
possibility of the usurer's future discomfiture I was still in the dark,
and asked for enlightenment.

"It's easy," said the farmer. "Lane he squeezes somebody until he can't
hold on to his property, then he puts up the money and another man buys
the place dirt-cheap for him, in his own name. Suppose that man goes
back on Lane? 'This place is my own,' says he. Well, he's recorded
owner, isn't he? and I figure Lane wouldn't be mighty keen on dragging
that kind of case into the courts."

"But he wouldn't put any man in unless he had him by the throat," said
I; and the farmer grinned.

"Juss so! He'll choke some fellow with grit in him a bit too much some
day, and when the wrong breed of scoundrel is jammed right up between
the devil and the sea, it's quite likely he'll go for the devil before
he starts swimming."

"I"--and Boone regarded the farmer fixedly--"quite agree with you. Do
you mind telling me what you gave for this place?"

Our host named the sum without hesitation, adding that he would be glad
to show us over it; and Boone's face grew somber as he said: "It is more
than twice what it was sold for when it was stolen from me."

We walked around the plowed land, inspected the stock, stables, and
barns, and when, after a cordial parting with our hosts, we rode away,
Boone turned to me: "It was an ordeal, and harrowing to see what might
have been but for an insatiable man's cunning and my poverty. Another
half-hour of the memories would have been too much for me. Well, we can
let that pass. They were kind souls, and this last lesson may have been
necessary. Strange, isn't it, that the simple are sometimes shrewder
than the wise?"

"For instance?" I said; and Boone smiled significantly.

"Yonder very plain farmer has hit upon a weak spot in Lane's armor which
the keenest brain on this prairie--I don't mean my own, of course--has
hitherto failed to see."

Soon afterwards we separated, each going his different way.




CHAPTER XIX

THE WORK OF AN ENEMY


Whatever action the police took concerning Lane's descent upon Crane
Valley was not apparent, and Thorn may have been justified in deciding
that they took none at all. However that may have been, Lane left us in
peace for a while, and it was not by his own hands that the next bolt
was launched against me. He preferred, as a rule, to strike through
another person's agency, and usually contrived it so that when trouble
resulted the agent bore the brunt of it.

I was tramping behind the seeder one fine morning, alternately watching
the somewhat unruly team and the trickle of golden grain into the good
black loam, when two horsemen appeared on the prairie. They headed for
the homestead, and living in a state of expectancy, as we then did, I
shared the misgivings of Thorn. "They're coming our way in a hurry,
sure; and the sight of anyone whose business I don't know worries me
just now," he said.

"If it's bad news we'll learn it soon enough," I said. "Go on to the end
of the harrowing. That we'll have a frost-nipped harvest if we're not
through with the sowing shortly is the one thing certain."

The two horsemen drew nearer, and it appeared that both wore uniform,
while I caught the glint of carbines. This in itself was significant,
and I wondered whether Mackay had discovered the identity of Boone.
Shortly I recognized the sergeant and Cotton, who a little later drew
bridle beside the seeder. Mackay's face was expressionless, but Cotton
looked distinctly unhappy, and once more I felt sorry for Boone.

"I have a word for ye. Will ye walk to the house with me?" said the
former. I glanced at Cotton, who, stooping, pretended to examine his
carbine. Thorn appeared suspicious, for he dropped the lines he held,
and his eyes grew keen.

"I'm sorry that is the one thing I can't do just now, when every moment
of this weather is precious," I said. "If you can't wait until we stop
at noon, there's no apparent reason why you shouldn't state your
business here."

"Ye had better come," said Mackay, looking very wooden. "Forby, I'm
thinking ye will sow no more to-day."

"I'm not in the humor for joking, and intend to continue sowing until it
is too dark to see," I answered shortly. "Have you any authority to
prevent me?"

"I have," said the sergeant. "Well, if ye will have it--authority to
arrest ye on a charge of unlawfully burning the homestead of Gaspard's
Trail."

Astonishment, dismay, and anger held me dumb between them for a few
moments. Then, as the power of speech returned, I said: "Confound you,
Mackay! You don't think I could possibly have had any hand in that?"

"It's no' my business to think," was the dry answer; "I'm here to carry
out orders. What was it ye were observing, Foreman Thorn?"

"Only that Niven or Lane was a mighty long time finding this thing out;
and that, while nobody expects too much from the police, we never
figured they were clean, stark, raging lunatics," said Thorn.

"I'm no' expecting compliments," said Mackay. "Ye will do your duty,
Corporal Cotton."

"You can put that thing back. I'm not a wild beast, and have sense
enough to see that I must wait for satisfaction until some of your
chiefs at headquarters hear of your smartness," I said. Then Cotton
positively hung his head as he let the carbine slip back into its
holster, while Mackay stared after the departing Thorn, who made for the
homestead as fast as he could run.

"What is his business?" he said.

"His own!" I answered shortly. "Unless you have also a warrant for his
arrest, it would be injudicious of you to stop him. Thorn has an ugly
temper, and would be justified in resenting the interference. What is
your program?"

"To ride in to the railroad whenever ye are ready, and deliver ye safely
in Empress City."

"I suppose one can only make the best of it; but considering that you
were probably consulted before a warrant was issued, I can't help
feeling astonished," I said. "However, there is no use in wasting words,
and an hour will suffice me to get ready in."

I left the team standing before the seeder, careless as to what became
of them, for, even if acquitted, I felt that my career was closed at
last. No forced labor could make up for time lost now, and, because
justice in the West is slow, it was perfectly clear why the charge had
been made. There was a scene with Sally when we reached the homestead,
and Cotton fled before her biting comments on police sagacity. Even
Mackay winced under certain allusions, and when I asked him: "Am I
permitted to talk to my housekeeper alone?" assented readily.

"Ye may," he said, "and welcome; I do not envy ye."

If Sally's tongue could be venomous, her brain was keen, and, as Steel
was absent, it was with confidence I left instructions with her. Thorn
had vanished completely, and the girl only looked mysterious when
questioned concerning him. At length all was ready, and turning in the
saddle as we rode away, I waved my hat to Sally, who stood in the
doorway of the homestead with eyes suspiciously dim. I wondered, with a
strange lack of interest, whether I should ever see either it or her
again. Cotton also saluted her, and the girl suddenly moved forward a
pace, holding up her hand.

"Make sure of your prisoner, Sergeant," she said. "What's the use of
talking justice to the poor man when he's ground down by the thief with
capital? We're getting tired--we have waited for that justice so
long--and I give you and the fools or rogues behind you warning that if
you jail Ormesby, the boys will come for him with rifles a hundred
strong."

Mackay touched his beast with the spurs, and as we passed out of
earshot, said to me: "If the boys have her spirit I'm thinking it's not
impossible. Your friends are not judicious, Henry Ormesby."

"They are stanch, at least, and above being bought," I said; and Mackay
stiffened.

"What were ye meaning?"

"I think my meaning was plain enough," I answered him.

Many leagues divided us from the railroad, and the way seemed very long.
The dejection that settled upon me brought a physical lassitude with it,
and I rode wearily, jolting in the saddle before the journey was half
done. Since the memorable night at Bonaventure, when I first met Boone,
trouble after trouble had crowded on me, and, supported by mere
obstinacy when hope had gone, I still held on. Now it seemed the end had
come, and, at the best, I must retire beaten to earn a daily wage by the
labor of my hands if I escaped conviction as a felon. Lane would absorb
Crane Valley, as he had done Gaspard's Trail. As if in mockery the
prairie had donned its gayest robe of green, and lay flooded with
cloudless sunshine.

Mackay made no further advances since my last repulse, but rode silently
on my right hand, Cotton on my left, holding back a little so that I
could not see him, and so birch bluff, willows, and emerald levels
rolled up before us and slid back to the prairie's rim until, towards
dusk on the second day, cubes of wooden houses and a line of gaunt
telegraph poles loomed up ahead.

"I'm glad," said Corporal Cotton, breaking into speech at last. "I don't
know if you'll believe it, Ormesby, but this has been a sickening day to
me. I'm tired of the confounded service--I'm tired of everything."

"Ye're young and tender on the bit, and without the sense to go canny
when it galls ye. What ails ye at the service anyway?" interposed the
sergeant.

"I'll say nothing about some of the duties. They're a part of the
contract," answered Cotton. "Still, I never bargained to arrest my best
friends when I became a policeman."

"Friends!" said Mackay. "Who were ye meaning?" and Cotton turned in my
direction with the face of one who had narrowly escaped a blunder.

"Aren't you asking useless questions? I mean Rancher Ormesby."

"I observed ye used the plural," said Mackay.

Cotton answered shortly: "When one is going through a disgusting duty to
the best of his ability, he may be forgiven a trifling lapse in
grammar."

The light was failing as we rode up to the station some time before the
train was due, and looking back, I saw several diminutive objects on the
edge of the prairie. They were, I surmised, mounted settlers coming in
for letters or news, but except that the blaze of crimson behind them
forced them up, it would have been hard to recognize the shapes of men
and beasts. Round the other half of the circle the waste was fading into
the dimness that crept up from the east, and feeling that I had probably
done with the prairie, and closed another chapter of my life, I turned
my eyes towards the string of giant poles and the little railroad
station ahead.

There were fewer loungers than usual about it, but when we dismounted,
Cotton started as two feminine figures strolled side by side down the
platform, and said something softly under his breath.

"What has surprised you?" I asked, and he pointed towards the pair.

"Those are Haldane's daughters, by all that is unfortunate!"

There was no avoiding the meeting. Darkness had not settled yet, and
Mackay, who failed to recognize the ladies, was regarding us
impatiently. "I'll do my best, and they may not notice anything
suspicious," the corporal said.

We moved forward, Mackay towards the office, Cotton hanging behind me,
but, as ill-luck would have it, both ladies saw us when we reached the
track, and before I could recover from my dismay, I stood face to face
with Beatrice Haldane. She was, it seemed to me, more beautiful than
ever, but I longed that the earth might open beneath me.

"It is some time since I have seen you, and you do not look well," she
said. "You once described the Western winters as invigorating; but one
could almost fancy the last had been too much for you."

"I cannot say the same thing, and if we had nothing more than the
weather to contend with, we might preserve our health," I said. "I did
not know you were at Bonaventure, or I should have ridden over to pay my
respects to you."

Beatrice Haldane did not say whether this would have given her pleasure
or otherwise. Indeed, her manner, if slightly cordial, was nothing more,
and I found it desirable to study a rail fastening when I saw her sister
watching me.

"I arrived from the East only a few days ago, and we are now awaiting my
father, who had some business down the line. Are you going out with the
train?"

"I am going to Empress," I said; and Lucille Haldane interposed: "That
is a long way; and the last time he met you, you told father you were
too busy to visit Bonaventure. Who will see to your sowing--and will you
stay there long?"

I heard Corporal Cotton grind his heel viciously into the plank beneath
him; and I answered, in desperation:

"I do not know. I am afraid so."

Perhaps the girl noticed by my voice that all was not well. Indeed,
Beatrice also commenced to regard the corporal and myself curiously.

"What has happened, Mr. Ormesby? You look positively haggard?" the
younger sister said. "Why are you keeping in the background, Corporal
Cotton? Have you done anything to be ashamed of?" Then she ceased with a
gasp of pained surprise, and I read consternation in her eyes.

"You have guessed aright. I am not making this journey of my own will,"
I said.

Beatrice Haldane turned with a swift movement, which brought us once
more fully face to face, and, unlike her sister, she was strangely cold
and grave.

"Is it permissible to ask any questions?" she said, and her even tone
stung me to the quick. One whisper against the speaker would have roused
me to fury.

"Everybody will know to-morrow or the next day, and I may as well tell
you now," I said, in a voice which sounded, even in my own ears, hoarse
with bitterness. "I am to be tried for burning down the homestead of
Gaspard's Trail."

Beatrice Haldane certainly showed surprise, but she seemed more
thoughtful than indignant, and still fixed me with her eyes. They were
clear and very beautiful, but I had begun to wonder if a spark of human
passion would ever burn within them.

"It is absurd--preposterous. Come here at once, Sergeant!" a clear young
voice with a thrill of unmistakable anger in it said; but Mackay seemed
desirous of backing into the station agent's office instead.

"I want you," added Lucille Haldane. "Come at once, and tell me why you
have done this."

The sergeant's courage was evidently unequal to the task, for with a
brief, "I will try to satisfy ye when I have transacted my business," he
disappeared into the office, and I turned again to Beatrice Haldane.

"You see it is unfortunately true; but you do not appear astonished," I
said.

Beatrice Haldane looked at me sharply, but without indignation, for she
was always mistress of herself, and before she could speak her sister
broke in: "Do you wish to make us angry, when we are only sorry for you,
Mr. Ormesby? Everybody knows that neither you nor any rancher in this
district could be guilty. Corporal Cotton, will you inquire if your
superior has finished his business, and tell him that I am waiting?"

"The old heathen deserves it!" said Cotton aside to me, as, with
unfeigned relief, he hurried away, and it was only by an effort I
refrained from following him. The interview was growing painful in the
extreme. Still, I was respited, for Beatrice Haldane turned from us
suddenly.

"What can this mean? There is a troop of horsemen riding as for their
lives towards the station," she said.

It was growing dark, but not too dark to see a band of mounted men
converge at a gallop upon the station, and for the first time I noticed
how the loungers stared at them, and heard the jingle of harness and
thud of drumming hoofs. None of them shouted or spoke. They came on in
ominous silence, the spume flakes flying from the lathered beasts, the
clods whirling up, until a voice cried:

"Two of you stand by to hold up the train! The rest will come along with
me!"

Amid a musical jingling, the horses were pulled up close beside the
track, and men in embroidered deerskin with broad white hats and men in
old blue-jean leaped hurriedly down. Several carried rifles, while,
guessing their purpose, I pointed towards the frame houses across the
unfenced track. "You must go at once, Miss Haldane. There may be a
tumult," I said.

Lucille seemed reluctant, Beatrice by no means hurried, and I do not
remember whether I bade either of them farewell, for as the newcomers
came swiftly into the station a gaunt commanding figure holding a
carbine barred their way, and Corporal Cotton leaped out from the
office. The station agent, holding a revolver, also placed himself
between them and me.

"What are ye wanting, boys?" a steady voice asked; and the men halted
within a few paces of the carbine's muzzle. I could just see that they
were my friends and neighbors, and I noticed that one who rode up and
down the track seemed inclined to civilly prevent the ladies from
retiring to the wooden settlement. Perhaps he feared they intended to
raise its inhabitants.

"We want Harry Ormesby," answered a voice I recognized as belonging to
Steel. "Stand out of the daylight, Sergeant. We have no call to hurt
you."

"I'm thinking that's true," said Mackay; and I admired his coolness as
he stood alone, save for the young corporal, grimly eying the crowd. "It
will, however, be my distressful duty to damage the first of ye who
moves a foot nearer my prisoner. Noo will ye hear reason, boys, or will
I wire for a squadron to convince ye? Ormesby ye cannot have, and will
ye shame your own credit and me?"

There was a murmur of consultation, but no disorderly clamor. The men
whom Thorn had raised to rescue me were neither habitual brawlers nor
desperadoes, but sturdy stock-riders and tillers of the soil, smarting
under a sense of oppression. They were all fearless, and would, I knew,
have faced a cavalry brigade to uphold what appeared their rights, but
they were equally averse to any bloodshed or violence that was not
necessary.

"There's no use talking, Sergeant," somebody said. "We don't go back
without our man, and it will be better for all of us if you release him.
You know as well as we do there's nothing against him."

Meanwhile, I could not well interfere without precipitating a crisis.
The station agent, who stated that Mackay had deputed him authority,
stood beside me with the pistol in his hand. Neither was I certain what
my part would be, for, stung to white heat by Beatrice Haldane's
coldness, which suggested suspicion, and came as a climax to a series of
injuries, I wondered whether it might not be better to make a dash for
liberty and leave the old hard life behind me. There might be better
fortune beyond the Rockies, and I felt that Lane would not have
instigated the charge of arson unless he saw his way to substantiate it.

Nevertheless, I could watch the others with a strange and almost
impersonal curiosity--the group of men standing with hard hands on the
rifle barrels ready for a rush; the grim figure of the sergeant, and the
young corporal poised with head held high, left foot flung forward, and
carbine at hip, in front of them.

"We'll give you two minutes in which to make up your mind. Then, if you
can't climb down, and anything unpleasant happens, it will be on your
head. Can't you see you haven't the ghost of a show?" said one.

Turning my eyes a moment, I noticed a fan-shaped flicker swinging like a
comet across the dusky waste far down the straight-ruled track, and when
a man I knew held up his watch beneath a lamp, I had almost come to a
decision. If the sergeant had shown any sign of weakness it is perhaps
possible that decision might have been reversed; but Mackay stood as
though cast in iron, and equally unyielding. I would at least have no
blood shed on my account, and would not leave my friends to bear the
consequences of their unthinking generosity. Meanwhile, stock-rider and
teamster were waiting in strained attention, and there was still almost
a minute left to pass when a light hand touched my shoulder, and Lucille
Haldane, appearing from behind me, said: "You must do something. Go
forward and speak to them immediately." She was trembling with
eagerness, but the station agent stood on my other side, and he was
woodenly stolid.

"Put down that weapon. I will speak to them," I said.

"You're healthier here," was the suspicious answer; and chiefly
conscious of the appeal and anxiety in Lucille Haldane's eyes, I turned
upon him.

"Stand out of my way--confound you!" I shouted.

The man fingered the pistol uncertainly, and I could have laughed at his
surmise that the sight of it would have held me then. Before, even if he
wished it, his finger could close on the trigger, I had him by the
wrist, and the weapon fell with a clash. Then I lifted him bodily and
flung him upon the track, while, as amid a shouting, Cotton sprang
forward, Mackay roared: "Bide ye, let him go!"

The shouting ceased suddenly when I stood between my friends and the
sergeant with hands held up. "I'll never forget what you have done,
boys; but it is no use," I said; and paused to gather breath, amid
murmurs of surprise and consternation. "In the first place, I can't drag
you into this trouble."

"We'll take the chances willing," a voice said, and there was a grim
chorus of approval. "We've borne enough, and it's time we did
something."

"Can't you see that if I bolted now it would suit nobody better than
Lane? Boys, you know I'm innocent----"

Again a clamor broke out, and somebody cried: "It was Lane's own man who
did it, if anybody fired Gaspard's Trail!"

"He may not be able to convict me, and if instead of rushing the
sergeant you will go home and help Thorn with the sowing, we may beat
him yet," I continued. "Even if I am convicted, I'll come back again,
and stay right here until Lane is broken, or one of us is dead."

The hoot of a whistle cut me short, the brightening blaze of a great
headlamp beat into our faces, and further speech was out of the
question, as with brakes groaning the lighted cars clanged in.

"Be quick, Sergeant, before they change their minds!" I shouted, and
Mackay and Cotton scrambled after me on to a car platform. No train that
ever entered that station had, I think, so prompt dispatch, for Cotton
had hardly opened the door of the vestibule than the bell clanged and
the huge locomotive snorted as the cars rolled out. I had a momentary
vision of the agent, who seemed partly dazed, scowling in my direction,
a group of dark figures swinging broad-brimmed hats, and Lucille Haldane
standing on the edge of the platform waving her hand to me. Then the
lights faded behind us, and we swept out, faster and faster, across the
prairie.




CHAPTER XX

LEADEN-FOOTED JUSTICE


I had spent a number of weary days awaiting trial, when a visitor was
announced, and a young, smooth-shaven man shown into my quarters. He
nodded to me pleasantly, seated himself on the edge of the table, and
commenced: "Your friends sent me along. I hope to see you through this
trouble, Rancher, and want you to tell me exactly how your difficulties
began. Think of all the little things that didn't strike you as quite
usual."

"I should like to hear in the first place who you are. I know your name
is Dixon, but that does not convey very much," I said.

The stranger laughed good-humoredly. "And such is fame! Now I had
fancied everybody who read the papers knew my name, and that I had won
some small reputation down at Winnipeg. Anyway, I'm generally sent for
in cases with a financial origin."

Then I remembered, and looked hard at the speaker. The last sentence was
justified, but he differed greatly from one's idea of the typical
lawyer. He was not even neatly dressed, and his manner singularly lacked
the preciseness of the legal practitioner.

"I must apologize, for I certainly have read about you," I said. "It was
perhaps natural that as I did not send for you I should be surprised at
your taking an interest in my case. I am, however, afraid I cannot
retain you, for the simple reason that I don't know where to raise
sufficient money to recompense any capable man's services."

"Aren't you a little premature? My clients don't usually plead poverty
until I send in my bill," was the answer. "You own a tolerably extensive
holding in Crane Valley, don't you?"

"I do; but nobody, except one man with whom I would not deal, would buy
a foot of it just now," I answered. Then, acceding to the other's
request, I supported the statement by a brief account of my
circumstances. "All this is quite beside the question," I concluded.

"No!" said Dixon. "As a matter of fact, I find it interesting. Won't you
go on and bring the story down to the present?"

I did so, and the man's face had changed, growing intent and keen before
I concluded.

"I should rather like to manage this affair for you," he said. "My
fees!--well, from what one or two people said about you, I can, if
necessary, wait for them."

"You will probably never be paid. Who was it sent for you?"

"Charles Steel, who was, however, not quite so frank about finances as
you seem to be," was the answer. "It was also curious, or otherwise,
that I was requested to see what could be done by two other gentlemen
who offered to guarantee expenses. That is about as much as I may tell
you. You are not the only person with an interest in the future of the
Crane Valley district."

"I seem to be used as a stalking-horse by friends and enemies alike, and
get the benefit of the charges each time they miss their aim. The part
grows irksome," I said dryly. "However, if you are willing to take the
risks, I need capable assistance badly enough."

Dixon seemed quite willing, and asked further questions. "You seem a
little bitter against the sergeant. What kind of man is he?" he said. "I
mean, has he a tolerably level head, or is he one of the discipline-made
machines who can comprehend nothing not included in their code of
rules?"

"I used to think him singularly shrewd, but recent events have changed
my opinion, and you had better place him in the latter category," I
said; and Dixon chuckled over something.

"Very natural! I must see him. From what you said already, he doesn't
strike me as a fool. Well, I don't think you need worry too much, Mr.
Ormesby."

Dixon had resumed his careless manner before he left me, and, for no
particular reason, I felt comforted. We had several more interviews
before the trial began, and I can vividly remember the morning I was
summoned into court. It was packed to suffocation, and the brilliant
sunshine that beat in through the long windows fell upon faces that I
knew. Their owners were mostly poor men, and I surmised had covered the
long distance on horseback, sleeping on the prairie, to encourage me.
There was, indeed, when I took my stand a suppressed demonstration that
brought a quicker throb to my pulses and a glow into my face. It was
comforting to know that I had their approbation and sympathy. If the
life I had caught brief glimpses of at Bonaventure was not for me, these
hard-handed, tireless men were my equals and friends--and I was proud of
them.

So it was in a clear, defiant voice I pleaded "Not guilty!" and
presently composed myself to listen while Sergeant Mackay detailed my
arrest. Bronzed faces were turned anxiously upon him when he was asked:
"Did the prisoner volunteer any statement, or offer resistance?"

Mackay looked down at the men before him, and there was a significant
silence in the body of the court. Then, with a faint twinkle in his
eyes, he answered: "There was a bit demonstration at the station in the
prisoner's favor, but he assisted us in maintaining order. The charge,
he said, was ridiculous."

This I considered a liberal view to take of what had passed and my own
comments, and, though I knew that Mackay was never addicted to unfairly
making the most of an advantage, I remembered Dixon's opinion. If he
were actuated by any ulterior motive, I had, however, no inkling of what
it might be.

Nothing of much further importance passed until the man who had
preferred the charge against me took his stand; when, watching him
intently, I was puzzled by his attitude. He appeared irresolute, though
I felt tolerably certain that his indecision was quite untinged with
compunction on my account. He had also a sullen look, which suggested
one driven against his will, and, twice before he spoke, made a slight
swift movement, as though under the impulse of a changed resolution.

"I am the owner of the lands and remains of the homestead known as
Gaspard's Trail," he said. "I bought them at public auction when sold by
the gentleman who held the prisoner's mortgage. Twice that day the
latter threatened both of us, and his friends raised a hostile
demonstration. He told me to take care of myself and the property, for
he would live to see me sorry; but I didn't count much on that. Thought
he was only talking when naturally a little mad. Have had cause to
change my opinions since. I turned in early on the night of the fire and
slept well, I and my hired man, Wilkins, being the only people in the
house. Wilkins wakened me about two in the morning. 'Get up at once!
Somebody has fired the place!' he said.

"I got up--in a mighty hurry--and got out my valuables. One end of the
house was 'most red-hot. There wasn't much furniture in it. The prisoner
had cleared out 'most everything, whether it was in the mortgage
schedule or whether it was not; but there was enough to keep me busy
while Wilkins lit out to save the horses. Wind blew the sparks right on
to the stable. I went out when I'd saved what I could, and as Wilkins
had been gone a long time, concluded he'd made sure of the horses. Met
the prisoner when I was carrying tools out of a threatened shed. Asked
him to help me. 'I'll see you burned before I stir a hand,' he said.
Noticed he was skulking round the corner of a shed, and seemed kind of
startled at the sight of me, but was too rattled to think of much just
then. Didn't ask him anything more, but seeing the fire had taken hold
good, sat down and watched it. Yes, sir, I told somebody it wasn't
insured.

"By-and-by the prisoner came back with a dozen ranchers. Didn't seem
friendly, or even civil, most of them, and there was nothing I could
do. Then I got worried about Wilkins, for he'd been gone a long time,
and the stable was burning bad. One of the ranchers said he'd make sure
there were no beasts inside it, and the prisoner and the rest went
along. They found Wilkins with some bones broken, and got him and the
horses out between them. Then, when the place was burnt out, Sergeant
Mackay rode up. I was homeless; but none of the ranchers would take me
in. Somebody said he wasn't sorry, and I'd got my deserts. Believe it
was the prisoner; but can't be certain. That's all I know except that
before I turned in I saw all the lamps out and fixed up the stove. Am
certain the fire didn't start from them.

"I was hunting among the ruins with Wilkins a little while ago when I
found a flattened coal-oil-tin under some fallen beams in the kitchen. I
never used that oil, but heard at the railroad store that the prisoner
did. Mightn't have taken the trouble to inquire, but that I found close
beside it a silver match-box. It was pretty well worn, but anyone who
will look at it close can read that it was given to H. Ormesby.
Considering the prisoner must have dropped it there, I handed both to
the police."

When Niven mentioned the match-box I started as though struck by a
bullet. It was mine, undoubtedly, and most of my neighbors had seen it.
That it was damning evidence in conjunction with the oil-tin, and had
been deliberately placed there for my undoing, I felt certain. There was
a half-audible murmur in the court while the judge examined the
articles, and I read traces of bewilderment and doubt in the faces
turned towards me. That these men should grow suspicious roused me to a
sense of unbearable injury, and I sent my voice ringing through the
court. "It is an infamous lie! I lost the match-box, or it was stolen
from me with a purpose, a month after the fire."

The judge dropped his note-book, the prosecutor smiled significantly;
but I saw that the men from the prairie believed me, and that was very
comforting. Something resembling a subdued cheer arose from various
parts of the building.

"Silence!" said the judge sternly. "An interruption is neither
admissible nor seemly, prisoner. You will be called on in turn."

"We need not trouble about the prisoner's denial, which was perhaps
natural, if useless, because the witness' statement will be fully borne
out by the man who was present when he found the match-box," said the
lawyer for the Crown. "I will now call Sergeant Mackay again."

Mackay's terse testimony was damaging, and aroused my further
indignation. I had not expected that he would either conceal or enlarge
upon anything that would tell against me; but had anticipated some trace
of reluctance, or that he would wait longer for questions between his
admissions. Instead, he stood rigidly erect, and reeled off his
injurious testimony more like a speaking automaton than a human being.

"A trooper warned me that he had seen a reflected blaze in the sky," he
said. "We mounted and rode over to Gaspard's Trail. Arriving there I
found a number of men, including the owner, Niven, and the prisoner.
Niven said the place was not insured. They were unable to do anything. I
see no need to describe the fire. The house was past saving; but the
ranchers, with the prisoner among them, broke into the burning stable to
bring out the horses, which had been overlooked, and found the hired
man, Wilkins, partly suffocated in a stall. He was badly injured, but
bore out the owner's statement that lamps and stove were safe when they
retired.

"I proceeded to question the spectators. Knew them all as men of good
character, and as they had newly ridden in, saw no reason to suspect
more than one in case the fire was not accidental. Asked Niven whom he
first met, and he said it was the prisoner, shortly after the fire broke
out. Stated he met him slipping through the shadow of a shed, and the
prisoner refused to assist him. Was not surprised at this, knowing the
prisoner bore Niven little goodwill since the latter bought his
property. Had heard him threaten him and another man supposed to be
connected with him in the purchase of Gaspard's Trail."

"What reason have you to infer that any other man was concerned in the
purchase of Gaspard's Trail?" asked the prosecutor; and Mackay answered
indifferently:

"It was just popular opinion that he was finding Niven the money."

"We need not trouble about popular opinion," said the lawyer somewhat
hurriedly. "We will now proceed to the testimony of the hired man,
Thomas Wilkins."

Thomas Wilkins was called for several times, but failed to present
himself, and a trooper who hurried out of court came back with the
tidings that he had borrowed a horse at the hotel and ridden out on the
prairie an hour ago. Since then nobody had seen him.

The Crown prosecutor fidgeted, the judge frowned, and there was a
whispering in the court, until the former rose up: "As Wilkins is one of
my principal witnesses, I must suggest an adjournment."

It cost me an effort to repress an exclamation. I had already been kept
long enough in suspense, and suspecting that Wilkins did not mean to
return, knew that a lengthened adjournment would be almost equally as
disastrous as a sentence.

"Have you no information whatever as to why he has absented himself?"
asked the judge. Receiving a negative answer, he turned towards the
trooper: "Exactly what did you hear at the hotel?"

"Very little, sir," was the answer. "He didn't tell anybody where he was
going, but just rode out. The hotelkeeper said he guessed Wilkins had
something on his mind by the way he kicked things about last night."

"It will be the business of the police to find him as speedily as
possible. In the meantime, I can only adjourn the case until they do,
unless the prisoner's representative proceeds with the examination of
witnesses," said the judge.

Dixon was on his feet in a moment. "With the exception of Sergeant
Mackay and the witness Niven, who will be further required by my legal
friend, I do not purpose to trouble the witnesses," he said. "While I
can urge no reasonable objection to the adjournment, it is necessary to
point out that it will inflict a grievous injury on one whom I have
every hope of showing is a wholly innocent man. It is well known that
this is the one time of the year when the prairie rancher's energies are
taxed to the utmost, and the loss of even a few days now may entail the
loss of the harvest or the ruin of the stock. My client has also
suffered considerably from being brought here to answer what I cannot
help describing as an unwarranted charge, and it is only reasonable that
bail should be allowed."

"Is anyone willing to offer security?" asked the judge.

There was a few moments' silence, and then a hum of subdued voices as a
man rose up; while I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw it was
Boone. In spite of the slight change in his appearance, he must have
been aware that he was running a serious risk, for his former holding
lay almost within a day's journey. I could also see that some of the
spectators started as they recognized him.

"I shall be glad to offer security for the prisoner's reappearance, so
far as my means will serve," he said.

"You are a citizen of this place, or have some local standing?" asked
the judge.

Boone answered carelessly: "I can hardly claim so much; but a good many
people know me further west, and I am prepared to submit my bank-book as
a guarantee."

He had scarcely finished, when another man I had not noticed earlier
stood up in turn. "I am authorized by Carson Haldane, of Bonaventure, to
offer bail to any extent desired."

The judge beckoned both of them to sit down again, and called up a
commissioned police officer and Sergeant Mackay. Then I felt slightly
hopeful, guessing that a good deal depended on Mackay's opinion. The
others drew aside, and my heart throbbed fast with the suspense until
the judge announced his decision.

"As the charge is a serious one, and the police hope to find the missing
witness very shortly, I must, in the meantime, refuse to allow bail."

I had grown used to the crushing disappointment which follows
short-lived hope; but the shock was hard to meet. It seemed only too
probable that Lane or his emissaries had spirited Wilkins away, and
would not produce him until it was too late to save my crop. Still,
there was no help for it, and I followed the officer who led me back to
my quarters with the best air of stolidity I could assume.

"What did you think of it?" asked Dixon, who came in presently with a
smile on his face; and I answered ruefully: "The less said the better.
It strikes me as the beginning of the final catastrophe, and if Wilkins
substantiates the finding of the match-box, conviction must follow. What
is the usual term of detention for such offenses?"

"You needn't worry about that," was the cheerful answer. "Things are
going just about as well as they could. There'll be a second
adjournment, and then perhaps another."

"And I must lie here indefinitely while my crops and cattle go to ruin!
That is hardly my idea of things going well; and if you are jesting, it
is precious poor humor," I broke in.

Dixon laughed. "I am not jesting in the least. You seem to be one of
those people, Ormesby, who believe everything will go to ruin unless
they hold control themselves. Now, it would not surprise me, if, on your
return, you found your crops and cattle flourishing. Further, the
prosecution hold a poor case, and I expect, when my turn comes, to see
it collapse. There isn't so much as you might fancy in the match-box
incident. The men who burn down places don't generally leave such things
about. I have had a talk with the sergeant, and, though he's closer
than an oyster, I begin to catch a glimmering of his intentions."

"Why can't you explain them then? I'm growing tired of hints, and feel
tempted to tell my mysterious well-wishers to go to the devil together,
and leave me in peace," I said.

"A little ill-humor is perhaps excusable," was the tranquil answer. "It
is wisest not to prophesy until one is sure, you know. Now, I'm open, as
I said, to do my best for you; but in that case you have just got to let
me set about it independently. Usual or otherwise, it is my way."

"Then I suppose I'll have to let you. Your reputation should be a
guarantee," I answered moodily, and Dixon lifted his hat from the table.

"Thanks!" he said dryly. "It is, in fact, the only sensible thing you
can do."




CHAPTER XXI

AGAINST TIME


Dixon's prediction proved correct. When I was brought into court a
second time there was still no news of Wilkins, and after further
testimony of no importance the case was again adjourned. This time,
however, bail was allowed, and Boone and Rancher Gordon stood surety for
me. The latter was by no means rich, and had, like the rest of us,
suffered severe losses of late. Dixon was the first to greet me when I
went forth, somewhat moodily, a free man for the time being.

"You don't look either so cheerful or grateful as you ought to be," he
said.

"You are wrong in one respect. I am at least sincerely grateful for your
efforts."

Dixon, in defiance of traditions, smote me on the shoulder. "Then what's
the matter with the cheerfulness?"

"It is not exactly pleasant to have a charge of this description hanging
over one indefinitely, and I have already lost time that can never be
made up," I said. "Lane will no doubt produce his witness when he
considers it opportune, and there is small encouragement to work in the
prospect of spending a lengthy time in jail while one's possessions go
to ruin."

"You think Lane had a hand in his disappearance?" Dixon asked
thoughtfully; and when I nodded, commented: "I can't quite say I do. My
reasons are not conclusive, and human nature's curious, anyway; but I'm
not sure that Wilkins will, if he can help it, turn up at all. However,
in the meantime, the dinner we're both invited to will put heart into
you."

He slipped his arm through mine, and led me into the leading hotel,
where, as it was drawing near the time for the six o'clock supper,
every man turned to stare at us as we passed through the crowded bar and
vestibule. I was making for the general dining-room when Dixon said: "Go
straight ahead. It was not easy to manage, but our hosts were determined
to do the thing in style."

He flung a door open, and Boone and Gordon greeted me in turn, while I
had never seen a menu in a Western hostelry to compare with that of the
following meal. Perhaps Gordon noticed my surprise, for he said: "It was
Adams who fixed up all this, and came near having a scrimmage with the
hotelkeeper about the wine. 'This comes from California, and I prefer it
grown in France. Those labels aren't much use to any man with a sense of
taste,' says he. This brand, wherever they grew it, is quite good enough
for me, but I'm wondering where Adams learned the difference."

Boone smiled at me. "I have," he said, "a good memory, and learned a
number of useful things during a somewhat varied experience."

The meal was over and the blue cigar smoke curled about us, when I
turned to Gordon: "There are two things I should like to ask you. First,
and because I know what losses you have had to face, how you raised the
money to liberate me in the generous way you did; and, second, how many
acres are left unsown at Crane Valley?"

The gaunt rancher fidgeted before he answered: "You have said 'Thank
you' once, and I guess that's enough. You're so blame thin in the hide,
and touchy, Ormesby; and it wasn't I who did it--at least not much of
it."

Dixon appeared to be amused, and when Gordon glanced appealingly at
Boone the latter only smiled and shook his head; seeing which, I said
quietly: "In short, you sent round the hat?"

There was no doubt that the chance shot had told, for Gordon rose, very
red in face, to his feet. "That's just what I didn't. Don't you know us
yet? Send round the hat when the boys knew you were innocent and just
how I was fixed! No, sir. They came right in, each bringing his roll of
bills with him, and if I'd wanted twice as much they'd have raised it.
And now I've given them away--just what they made me promise not to."

I had anticipated the answer, but it stirred me, nevertheless, and while
Gordon stared at me half angry, half ashamed of his own vehemence, I
filled a wine-glass to the brim. "Here's to the finest men and stanchest
comrades on God's green earth," I said, looking steadily at him.

It was Dixon who brought us down to our normal level, for, setting his
glass down empty, he commented: "You're not overmodest, Ormesby,
considering that you are one of them. Still, I think you're right.
People in the East are expecting a good deal from you and the good
country that has been given you."

Gordon joined in the lawyer's laugh, but I broke in: "You have not
answered my second question."

"Well!" and the rancher smiled mischievously. "You're so mighty
particular that I don't know what to say. Still, things looked pretty
tolerable last time I was down to Crane Valley."

Dixon accompanied us to the station when it was time to catch the train,
and as he stood on the car platform said to me: "It's probably no use to
tell you not to worry, but I'd sit tight in my saddle and think as
little as possible about this trouble if I were you."

He dropped lightly from the platform, cigar in hand, as the train pulled
out, and, though most unlike the traditional lawyer in speech or
agility, left me with a reassuring confidence in his skill.

It was early morning when I rode alone towards Crane Valley, feeling, in
spite of Dixon's good advice, distinctly anxious. It is true that Thorn
and Steel were both energetic, but no man can drive two teams at once,
and it was my impression that, having more at stake, I could do
considerably more in person than either of them. I had small comfort in
the reflection that, after all, the question how much had been
accomplished was immaterial, because there was little use in sowing
where, while I lay in jail, an enemy might reap, and I urged my horse
when I drew near the hollow in which the homestead lay, and then pulled
him up with a jerk. Gordon had said things had been going tolerably
well, but this proved a very inadequate description. The plowed land had
all been harrowed and sown, and beyond it lay the shattered clods of
fresh breaking, where I guessed oats had been sown under the sod newly
torn from the virgin prairie. Ten men of greater endurance could not
have accomplished so much, and I sat still, humbled and very grateful,
with eyes that grew momentarily dim, fixed on the wide stretch of black
soil steaming under the morning sun. It seemed as though a beneficent
genie had been working for my deliverance while I lay, almost
despairing, in the grip of the law.

Then Steel, springing out from the door of the sod-house, came up at a
run, with Thorn behind him. It was strangely pleasant to see the elation
in their honest faces, and Steel's shout of delight sent a thrill
through me.

"This is the best sight I've seen since you left us," he panted,
wringing my hand. "Thorn's that full up with satisfaction he can't even
run. We knew Dixon and Adams would see you through between them."

"Has Dixon been down here?" I asked, for the lawyer had not told me so;
and Thorn, who came up, gasped: "Oh, yes; and a Winnipeg man he sent
down went round with Adams 'most everywhere. Say, did you strike Niven
for compensation?"

"No," I answered, a trifle ruefully. "I am only free on bail, and not
acquitted yet."

Steel's jaw dropped, and his dismay would have been ludicrous had it not
betrayed his whole-hearted friendship, while Thorn's burst of sulphurous
language was an even more convincing testimony. Again I felt a curious
humility, and something enlarged in my throat as I looked down at them.

"If I can't stand Lane off with you two and the rest behind me I shall
deserve all I get, and we must hope for the best," I said. "But if you
could handle three teams each you could not have done all this."

Thorn, who was not usually vociferous in expressing his sentiments,
appeared glad of this diversion, and, after a glance at the plowed land,
strove to smile humorously. "Think you could have done it any better
yourself?"

"It's a fair hit," I answered. "You know exactly how much I can do. Let
me down easily. How did you manage it?"

"We didn't manage anything," said Thorn. "No, sir. The boys, they did it
all. Everybody came or sent a hired man, and blame quaint plowing some
of them cow-chasers done. Put up a dollar sweepstake and ran races with
the harrows, they did, and Steel talked himself purple before he stopped
them. They've busted the gang-plow, and one said he ought to have been a
dentist by the way he pulled out the cultivator teeth."

"And where did you come in?" I asked, and duly noted the effort it cost
Steel to follow his comrade's lead.

"We just lay back and turned the good advice on," he said. "Tom, he led
the prayer meeting when, after supper, they turned loose on Lane. Oh,
yes, we rode in and out for provisions. Sally, she would have the best
in the settlement, and sat up all night cooking. Don't know how you'll
feel when you see the grocery bill."

"I can tell you now," I said. "I feel that there's nothing in the whole
Dominion too good for them--or you--and I'd be glad, if necessary, to
sell my shirt to pay the bill."

We went on to the house together, and Sally, hiding her disappointment,
plunged with very kindly intentions into a spirited description of her
visitors' feats. "That's a testimonial," she said, pointing through the
window to an appalling pile of empty tins. "I just had to get them when
some of the boys brought their own provisions in. I set one of them
peeling potatoes all night to convince him."

"Peeling potatoes?" I interpolated; and Steel, smiling wickedly,
furnished the explanation.

"Sally was busy in the shed when he came along, and wanted to help her
considerable. 'Feel like peeling half a sackful?' says Sally; and when
the fool stockman allowed he'd like it better than anything, says she,
'Then, as I'm tired, you can.' She just left him with it, while she
talked to the other man; but there was grit in him, and he peeled away
until morning. Wanted to marry her, too, he did."

Sally's glance foreboded future tribulation for the speaker, and Thorn
frowned; but Steel, disregarding it, concluded gravely: "Dessay he might
have done it, but he heard Sally turn loose on me one day, and took
warning."

In spite of the shadow hanging over me, it was good to be at home, and
perhaps the very uncertainty as to its duration made the somewhat sordid
struggle of our life at Crane Valley almost attractive. Lane, it seemed
only too probable, would crush us in the end, but there was satisfaction
in the thought that every hour's work well done would help us to prolong
our resistance. So the days of effort slipped by until I received a
notice to present myself at court on a specified date, and, there being
much to do, I delayed my departure until the last day. Steel insisted on
accompanying me to the railroad, but protested against the time of
starting. "One might fancy you were fond of jail by the hurry you're in
to get back to it," he said. "We could catch the cars if we left hours
later."

"It's as well to be on the right side," I said; for I had been in a
state of nervous impatience all day. Wilkins had been found, and now
that a decision appeared certain, I grew feverishly anxious to learn the
best--or the worst.

It was a day in early summer when we set out and pushed on at a good
pace, though already the sun shone hot. Steel, indeed, suggested there
was no need for haste, but after checking my beast a little, I shot
ahead again. "It might be your wedding you were going to!" he said.

We had covered part of the distance left to traverse on the second day
when a freighter's lumbering ox-team crawled out of a ravine, and Steel
pulled up beside him. "I don't know if you're mailing anything East, but
you're late if you are," said the teamster.

"Then there's something wrong with the sun," said Steel. "If he's
keeping his time bill we're most two hours too soon."

"You would have been last week," answered the other; while a sudden
chill struck through me as I remembered the promised acceleration of the
transcontinental express. "They've improved the track in the Selkirks
sooner than they expected, and they're rushing the Atlantic hummer
through on the new schedule this month instead of next."

Before he concluded I had snatched out my watch and simultaneously
touched the beast with the spurs. The next moment the timepiece was
swinging against my belt, and, with eyes fixed on the willows before me,
I was plunging at a reckless gallop down the side of the ravine. The
horse was young and resented the punishment, but I had no desire to hold
him, and the further he felt inclined to bolt the better it would please
me. So we smashed through the thinner willows, and somehow reeled down
an almost precipitous slope, reckless of the fact that there was a creek
at the bottom, while the trail wound round towards a bridge, until the
hoofs sank into the soft ground, and we came floundering towards the
tall growth by the water's edge. There the spurs went in again, and the
beast, which knew nothing of jumping, rather rushed than launched itself
at the creek. There was a splash and a flounder, a fountain of mire and
water shot up, and green withes parted before me as we charged through
the willows on the farther bank. The slope was soft and steep beneath
the climbing birches, and by the time we were half way up the beast had
relinquished all desire to bolt; but my watch showed me that go he must,
and it was without pity I drove him at the declivity. Meantime, a thud
of hoofs followed us, and when, racing south across the levels, we had
left the ravine two miles behind, Steel came up breathless.

"Can you do it, Harry?" he panted.

"I'm afraid not," I shouted. "Still, if I kill the horse under me, I'm
going to try. He's carrying a good many poor men's money."

A hurried calculation had proved conclusively that if the train were
punctual I should miss it by more than an hour, and there was, of
course, not another until the following day. Still, it was a long climb
from Vancouver City up through the mountains of British Columbia to the
Kicking Horse Pass in the Rockies, and there then remained a wide
breadth of prairie for the mammoth locomotives to traverse. Sometimes,
when the load was heavy, they lost an hour or two on the wild up-grade
through the cañons. I was ignorant of legal procedure, but greatly
feared that my non-appearance in the court would entail the forfeiture
of the sureties, and, as the session was near an end, postpone the trial
indefinitely. Therefore the train must be caught if it were in the power
of horseflesh to accomplish it, and I settled myself to ride as for my
life.

"Wouldn't the Port Arthur freight do?" shouted Steel.

"No," I answered. "It's the Atlantic Express or nothing! You can pick
those things up on your homeward journey."

Without checking the beast I managed to loosen the valise strapped
before me, and hurled it down upon the prairie. It contained all I
possessed in the shape of civilized apparel except what I rode in, and
that was mired all over from the flounder through the creek; but the
horse already carried weight enough. It was now blazing noon, and in the
prairie summer the sun is fiercely hot. Here and there the bitter dust
of alkali rolled across the waste, crusting our dripping faces and the
coats of the lathered beasts. My eyelashes grew foul and heavy, blurring
my vision, so that it was but dimly I saw the endless levels crawl up
from the far horizon. A speck far down in the distance grew into the
altitude of a garden plant, and, knowing what it must be, I pressed my
heels home fiercely, waiting for what seemed hours until it should
increase into a wind-dwarfed tree.

It passed. There was nothing but the dancing heat to break the great
monotony of grass, while the gray streak where it cut the sky-line
rolled steadily back in mockery of our efforts to reach it. Yet I was
soaked in perspiration, and Steel was alkali white. There was a steady
trickle into my eyes, and the taste of salt in my mouth, while the
drumming of hoofs rose with a staccato thud-thud, like distant rifle
fire, and the springy rush of the beasts beneath us showed how fast we
were traveling. Steel shook his head as we raced up a rise which had
tantalized me long, stirrup to stirrup and neck to neck, while the clots
from the dripping bits drove past like flakes of wind-whirled snow.

"If you want to get there, Ormesby, this won't do," he said. "You'd
break the heart of the toughest beast inside another hour."

"The need would justify a worse loss," I panted, snatching out my watch.
"We have pulled up thirty minutes, but are horribly behind still. Men
who can't afford to lose it have put up the stakes I am riding for."

Steel made a gesture of comprehension, but once more shook his head. "My
beast's the better, and he's carrying a lighter weight, but he'll never
last at the pace we're making. Save your own a little, and when he's
dead beat I'll let up and change with you. I'll hang on in the meantime
in case one of them comes to grief over a badger-hole. It's your one
chance if you're bent on getting through."

I would at that moment have gladly sold the rest of my life for the
certainty of catching the train. To give my enemy no advantage was a
great thing, and I felt that absence when my name was called would
prejudice the most confiding against me. But that was, after all, a
trifle compared with what I owed the men who had probably stripped
themselves of necessities to help me, and I felt that if I failed them a
shame which could never be dissipated would follow me. Nevertheless,
Steel's advice was sound, and I tightened my grip on the bridle with a
smothered imprecation. Then my heart grew heavier, for the horse needed
no pulling, and responded with an ominous alacrity.

We were still leagues from the railroad, and the miles of grasses
flitted towards us ever more slowly. The last clump of birches took half
an hour to raise, and the willows which fled behind us had been five
long minutes taking the shape of trees. My watch was clenched in one
hand, and, while bluff and ravine crawled, its fingers raced around the
dial with an agonizing rapidity in testimony of the feebleness of flesh
and blood when pitted against steel and steam. The clanging cars had
swept clear of the foothills long ago, and the track ran straight and
level across the prairie, a smooth empty road for the Accelerated to
save time on in its race between the Pacific and the Laurentian
waterway. When the prairie grew blurred before us, as it sometimes did,
I could see instead the two huge locomotives veiled in dust and smoke
thundering with a pitiless swiftness down the long converging rails,
while the drumming of hoofs changed into the roar of wheels whose speed
would brand me with dishonor. Yet we were doing all that man or beast
could do, and at last a faint ray of hope and a new dismay came upon me.
The difference in time had further lessened, but my horse was failing.

"Go on as you're going," shouted Steel, edging his whitened beast
nearer. "I'm riding a stone lighter, and this beast has another hour's
work left in him."

I went on, the horse growing more and more feeble and blundering in his
stride, until at last, when it was a case of dismount or do murder, I
dropped stiffly from the saddle. Steel was down in a second, and in
another my jacket and vest were off, and I laid my foot to the stirrup
in white shirt and trousers, with a handkerchief knotted around my
waist.

"You'll startle the folks in Empress, and you can't strip off much
more," said Steel.

"I'd ride into the depot naked sooner than rob the boys," I said; and
was mounted before my comrade could reopen his mouth. When he did so his
"Good luck!" sounded already faint and far away.

Steel's horse had more life left in him--one could feel it in his
stride; but now that there was some hope of success I rode with more
caution, sparing him up the low rises, and trying, so far as one might
guess it, to keep within a very small margin of his utmost strength. So
we pressed on until all the prairie grew dim to me, and my only distinct
sensation was the rush of the cool wind. Then a flitting birch bluff
roused me once more to watch, and minute by minute I strained my eyes
for the first glimpse of the tall poles heralding the railroad track. At
last a row of what looked like matches streaked the horizon, and grew in
size until something that rose and fell with the heave of the prairie
sea became visible beneath. Then, as we topped one of its grassy waves,
a cluster of distant cubes loomed up, and a glance at the watch's racing
fingers warned me that I was already behind the time that the train was
due to reach the settlement. It might have passed; and a new torture was
added until, when in an agony of suspense, I strained my eyes towards
the west, a streak of whiteness crept out of the horizon.

The run of the Accelerated was at that time regarded as a national
exploit, forming, as it did, part of a new link binding Japan and
London--the East and the West; and I knew the conductor would hardly
have waited for one of his own directors. The white streak rapidly grew
larger; something sparkled beneath it, and there was flash of twinkling
glass through the dust and steam. I fixed my eyes on the station, and
taxed every aching sinew in hand and heel, for the weakening beast must
bring me there in time or die. A smoke cloud, with bright patches
beneath it, rolled up to the station when I was nearly half a mile away.
The horse was reeling under me, the power had gone out of the leaden
hands on switch and bridle, and--for the tension had produced a
vertigo--my sight was almost gone.

Hearing, however, still remained, and shouts of encouragement reached
me, while I could dimly see the station close ahead, and shapeless
figures apparently waving hats and arms. The clang of a big bell rang in
my ears, the twin locomotives snorted, and I fell from the saddle,
sprang towards the track, and clutched at the sliding rails of a car
platform. I missed them; the car, swaying giddily, so it seemed, rolled
past, and I hurled myself bodily at the next platform. Somebody clutched
my shoulder and dragged me up, and I fell with a heavy crash against the
door of a vestibule.

"Just in time," said a man in uniform. "Say, are you doing this for a
wager, or are some mad cow-chasers after you?"




CHAPTER XXII

BAD TIDINGS


The dust was rolling about the cars and the gaunt poles whirled past
before I could recover breath to answer the astonished conductor. Then
it was with a gasp I said: "Won't you get me a little water?"

The man vanished, and I sat still vacantly noticing how the prairie
reeled behind me until the door slid open and he returned with a tin
vessel and a group of curious passengers behind him. A piece of ice
floated in the former, and a man held out a flask. "I guess it won't
hurt him, adulterated some," he said.

Never before had I tasted so delicious a draught. Hours of anxiety and
effort under a blazing sun had parched and fouled my lips, and my throat
was dry as unslaked lime. The tin vessel was empty when I handed it
back, and the railroad official looked astonished as he turned it upside
down for the spectators' information. "I guess a locomotive tank would
hardly quench that thirst of yours," he said.

"Thanks. I'll get up. It was not for amusement I boarded your train as I
did," I said, and the rest opened a passage for me into the long
Colonist car. There was a mirror above the basins in the vestibule, and
a glance into it explained their curiosity. The white shirt had burst in
places; the grime of alkali had caked on my face, leaving only paler
circles about the eyes. Hardened mire crusted the rest of my apparel,
and each movement made it evident to me that portions of the epidermis
had been abraded from me.

"It's not my business how passengers board these cars, so long as
they're tolerably decent, and can pay their fare," observed the
conductor. "Still, although we're not particular, we've got to dress you
a little between us; and it mightn't be too much to ask what brought
you here in such an outfit?"

It was evident that the others were waiting to ask the same question,
and I answered diplomatically: "I have money enough to take me to
Empress at Colonist fare, and was half way to the depot to catch the
cars on the old schedule before I discovered you had commenced the
accelerated service. Then I flung off every ounce of weight that might
lose me the race."

"You must have had mighty important business," somebody said; and the
door at the opposite end opened as I answered dryly: "I certainly had."

"Hallo! Great Columbus! Is that you, Ormesby?" a voice which seemed
familiar said; and, turning angrily, I saw a storekeeper with whom I had
dealt staring at me in bewilderment.

"Ormesby!" the name was repeated by several passengers, and I read
sudden suspicion in some of the faces, and sympathy in the rest, while
one of them, with Western frankness, asked: "You're the Rancher Ormesby
we've been reading about?"

"Yes," I answered, making a virtue of necessity. "I am on my way to
surrender for trial, and redeem my bail. Now you can understand my
hurry."

Several of the passengers nodded, and the dealer said: "It's tolerably
plain you can't go like that; they're that proud of themselves in
Empress they'd lock you up. So I'll try to find you something in my
gripsack. Still, while I concluded you never done the thing, I'd like to
hear you say straight off you know nothing about the burning of
Gaspard's Trail."

"Then listen a second," I answered. "You have my word for it, that I
know no more what caused the fire than you do. You will be able to read
my defense in the papers, and I need not go into it here."

"That's enough for me," was the answer. "Now, gentlemen, if you have got
anything you can lend my friend here in your valises, I'll guarantee
they're either replaced or returned. Some of you know me, and here's my
business card."

It may be curious, but I saw that most of those present, and they were
all apparently from parts of the prairie, fully credited my statement,
and one voiced the sentiments of the rest when he said: "I'll do the
best I can. If Mr. Ormesby had played the fire-bug, he wouldn't be so
mighty anxious to get back to court again."

The position was humiliating, but no choice was left me. I must either
accept the willing offers or enter Empress half naked, and accordingly I
made a hasty selection among the garments thrust upon me. Twenty minutes
spent in the lavatory, with the colored porter's assistance, produced a
comforting change, and when I returned to the car, one of the most
generous lenders surveyed me with pride as well as approval.

"You do us credit, Rancher, and you needn't worry about the thanks.
We've no use for them," he said. "Hope you'll get off; but if you are
sent up for burning down that place, I'll be proud of having helped to
outfit a famous man."

Perhaps my face was ludicrous with its mingled expressions of gratitude
and disgust at this naïve announcement, for a general laugh went up
which I finally joined in, and that hoarse merriment gave me the freedom
of the Colonist car. Rude burlesque is interspersed amid many a tragedy,
and I had seen much worse situations saved by the grace of even coarse
humor. Thereafter no personal questions were asked, and most of my
fellow-travelers treated me with a delicacy of consideration which is
much less uncommon than one might suppose among the plain, hard-handed
men who wrest a living out of the prairie.

Night had closed in some time earlier when I strolled out across the
platform of the car and leaned upon the rails of the first-class before
it. Tired physically as I was, the nervous restlessness which followed
the mental strain would, I think, have held me wakeful, even if there
had been anything more than a bare shelf of polished maple, which finds
out every aching bone, to sleep on. This, however, was not the case, for
those who travel Colonist must bring their own bedding, or do without
it. It was a glorious summer night, still and soft and effulgent with
the radiance of the full moon which hung low above the prairie, while
the sensation of the swift travel was bracing.

There was no doubt that the Accelerated was making up lost time; and the
lurching, clanking, pounding, roar of flying wheels, and panting of
mammoth engines both soothed and exhilarated me. They were in one sense
prosaic and commonplace sounds, but--so it seemed to me that night--in
another a testimony to man's dominion over not only plant and beast upon
the face of the earth, but also the primeval forces which move the
universe. Further, the diapason of the great drivers and Titanic
snorting, rising and falling rhythmically amid the pulsating din, broke
through the prairie's silence as it were a triumphant hymn of struggle
and effort, and toil all-conquering, as dropping the leagues behind it
the long train roared on. I knew something of the cost, paid in the
sweat of tremendous effort, and part in blood and agony, of the smooth
road along which the great machines raced across the continent.

Perhaps I was overstrung, and accordingly fanciful; but I gathered fresh
courage, which was, indeed, badly needed, and I had grown partly
reassured and tranquil, when the door creaked behind me and there was a
light step on the platform. Then, turning suddenly, I found myself
within a foot of Lucille Haldane. She was bareheaded. The moon shone on
her face, which, as I had dreamed of it, looked at once ethereal and
very human under the silvery light. This, at least, was not a fancy born
of overtaxed nerves, for while given to heartsome merriment, daring, and
occasionally imperious, there was a large share of the spiritual in the
character of the girl. Shrewd, she certainly was, yet wholly fresh and
innocent, and at times I had seen depths of pity and sympathy which it
seemed were not wholly earthly in her eyes. When one can name and number
all the mysterious forces that rule the heart or brain of man, it may be
possible to tell why, when Beatrice Haldane's idealized image was ever
before me, I would have done more for her sister than for any living
woman.

We were both a little surprised at the encounter, and I fancied I had
seen a momentary shrinking from me in the eyes of the girl. This at once
furnished cause for wonder, and hurt me. She had shown no shrinking at
our last meeting.

"I did not expect to meet you when I came out for the sake of coolness.
Are you going East?" I said.

Lucille Haldane was usually frank in speech, but she now appeared to be
perplexed by, and almost to resent, the question. "Yes. I have some
business which cannot be neglected in that direction," she said.

"Is Miss Haldane or your father on board the train?" I asked, and
Lucille seemed to hesitate before she answered:

"No. My father is in Winnipeg, and Beatrice has gone to Montreal; but
Mrs. Hansen, our housekeeper, is here with me."

I was partly, but not altogether, relieved by this information. It was
no doubt foolish, but I had been at first afraid that every one of my
friends from Bonaventure had seen in what manner I boarded the train. I
would have given a good deal to discover whether Lucille had witnessed
the spectacle, but I did not quite see how to acquire the knowledge.

"It must be important business which takes you East alone," I said
idly--to gain time in which to frame a more leading question; but the
words had a somewhat startling effect. A trace of indignation or
confusion became visible in the girl's face as she answered: "I have
already told you it is business which cannot be neglected; and if you
desire any further information I fear I cannot give it to you. Now,
suppose we reverse the positions. What has made you so unusually
inquisitive to-night, Mr. Ormesby?"

The positions were reversed with a vengeance, somewhat to my disgust. I
had neither right nor desire to pry into Lucille Haldane's affairs, and
yet felt feverishly anxious to discover how much or how little she had
seen at the station. It was no use to reason with myself that this was
of no importance, for the fact remained.

"I must apologize if I seemed inquisitive," I said. "It would have been
impertinence, but I will make a bargain with you. If you will tell me
whether you boarded the cars immediately the train came in, and what
seat you took, I will tell you the cause of it."

This struck me as a clever maneuver, for if, as I hoped, she had seen
nothing, the story would certainly reach Bonaventure, and it seemed much
better that she should hear it first, and carefully toned down, from my
own lips. Lucille Haldane's face cleared instantaneously, and there was
a note of relief in her laugh.

"Must you always make a bargain? You remember the last," but here she
broke off suddenly and favored me with a wholly sympathetic glance. "I
did not mean to recall that unfortunate night. You should come to the
point always, for you are not brilliant in diplomacy, and shall have
without a price the information you so evidently desire. I was standing
on the car platform when you rode up to the station."

We are only mortal, and I fear I ground one heel, perhaps audibly, but
certainly viciously, into the boards beneath me. Still, I am certain
that my lips did not open. Nevertheless, I was puzzled by the sparkle in
Lucille Haldane's eyes which the radiant moonlight emphasized. There was
more than mischief in it, but what the more consisted of I could not
tell. "Have you forgotten the virtues of civilized self-restraint?" she
asked demurely.

I could see no cause for these swift changes, which would probably have
bewildered any ordinary man, and I made answer: "It may be so; but on
this occasion, at least, I said nothing."

Lucille Haldane laughed, and laid her hand lightly on my arm as the cars
jolted. "Then you certainly looked it; but I am not blaming you. I saw
you ride into the station, and I hardly grasp the reason for so much
modesty. I do not know what delayed you, but I know you were trying to
redeem the trust your neighbors placed in you."

I was apparently a prey to all disordered fancies that night, for it
seemed a desecration that the little white hand should even bear the
touch of another man's jacket, and I lifted it gently into my own hard
palm. Also, I think I came desperately near stooping and touching it
with my lips. Be that as it may, in another second the opportunity was
lacking, for Lucille grasped the rails with it some distance away from
me, and leaned out over them to watch the sliding prairie, her light
dress streaming about her in the whistling draught.

"The cars were very stuffy, and I am glad I came out. It is a perfectly
glorious night," she said.

The remark seemed very disconnected, but she was right. The prairie
there was dead-level, a vast, rippling silver sea overhung by a spangled
vault of softest indigo. In spite of the rattling ballast and puffs of
whirled-up dust the lash of cool wind was grateful, and the rush of the
clanking cars stirred one's blood. Still, in contrast to their bulk and
speed, the slight figure in the fluttering white dress seemed very frail
and insecure as it leaned forth from the rails, and I set my teeth when,
with a sudden swing and a giddy slanting, we roared across a curving
bridge. Before the dark creek whirled behind us I had flung my arm
partly around the girl's waist and clenched the rails in front of her.

"I am quite safe," she said calmly, after a curious glance at me. "You
look positively startled."

"I was so," I answered, speaking no more than the truth, for the fright
had turned me cold; and she once more looked down at the whirling
prairie.

"That was very unreasonable. You are not responsible for me."

Perhaps the fright had rendered me temporarily light-headed, for I
answered, on impulse: "No; on the other hand, you are responsible for
me."

"I?" the girl said quietly, with a demureness which was not all mockery.
"How could that be? Such a responsibility would be too onerous for me."

"Why it should be I cannot tell you; but it is the truth," I said.
"Twice, when a crisis had to be faced, it was your opinions that turned
the scale for me; and I think that, growing hopeless, I should have
allowed Lane to rob me and gone elsewhere in search of better fortune
had it not been for the courage you infused into me. Once or twice also
you pointed the way out of a difficulty, and the clearness of your views
was almost startling. The most curious thing is that you are so much
younger than I."

I had spoken no more than the truth, and was conscious of a passing
annoyance when Lucille Haldane laughed. "There is no overcoming
masculine vanity; and I once heard my father say you were in some
respects very young for your age," she said. "I am afraid it was
presumption, but I don't mind admitting I am glad if any chance word of
mine nerved you to continue your resistance." Her voice changed a little
as she added: "Of course, that is because your enemy's work is evil, and
I think you will triumph yet."

Neither of us spoke again for a time, and I remember reflecting that
whoever won Lucille Haldane would have a helpmate to be proud of in this
world and perhaps, by virtue of what she could teach him, follow into
the next. I could think so the more dispassionately because now both she
and her sister were far above me, though, knowing my own kind, I
wondered where either could find any man worthy.

So the minutes slipped by while the great express raced on, and blue
heavens and silver prairie unrolled themselves before us in an
apparently unending panorama. There had been times when I considered
such a prospect dreary enough, but it appeared surcharged with a strange
glamour that moonlit night.

"Will Miss Haldane return to Bonaventure?" I asked, at length.

"I hardly think so," said the girl. "We have very different tastes, you
know; and as father will not keep more than one of us with him, we can
both gratify them. Beatrice will leave for England soon, and in all
probability will not visit Bonaventure again."

She looked at me with a strange expression as she spoke, and when her
meaning dawned on me I was conscious of a heavy shock. I had braced
myself to face the inevitable already, but the knowledge was painful
nevertheless, and my voice was not quite steady when I said: "You imply
that Miss Haldane is to be married shortly?"

"It is not an impossible contingency."

Lucille spoke gravely, and I wondered whether she had guessed the full
significance of the intimation. Perhaps my face had grown a little
harder, or the tightening of my fingers on the rail betrayed me, for she
looked up very sympathetically. "I thought it would be better that you
should know."

There was such kindness stamped on her face that my heart went out to
her, and it was almost huskily I said: "I thank you. You have keen
perceptions."

Lucille smiled gravely. "One could see that you thought much of
Beatrice--and I was sorry that it should be so."

Her tone seemed to challenge further speech, and presently I found words
again: "It was an impossible dream, almost from the beginning; but I
awakened to the reality long ago. Still, nothing can rob me of the
satisfaction of having known your sister and you, and your influence has
been good for me. One can at least cherish the memory; and even a wholly
impossible fancy has its benefits."

The girl colored, and said quietly: "It is not our fault that you
overrate us, and one finds the standard others set up for one irksome.
And yet you cannot be easily influenced, from what I know."

"Heaven knows how weak and unstable I have been at times, but I learned
much that was good for me at Bonaventure, and should, whatever happens,
desire to keep your good opinion," I said.

"I think you will always do that," said the girl, moving towards the
door. "It is growing late, but before I go I want to ask you to go to
your trial to-morrow with a good courage, and not to be astonished at
anything you hear or see. If you are, you must try to remember that we
Canadians actually are, as our orators tell us, a free people, and that
the prairie farmers do not monopolize all our love of justice."

She brushed lightly past me, and the prairie grew dim and desolate as
the door clicked to. I had long dreaded the news just given me, but such
expectations do not greatly lessen one's sense of loss. Still, it may
have been that my senses were too dulled to feel the worst pain, and I
sat down on the top step of the platform with my arm through the railing
in a state of utter weariness and dejection, which mercifully acted as
an anesthetic. How long I watched the moonlit waste sweep past the
humming wheels I do not know; but tired nature must have had her way,
for it was early morning when a brakeman fell over me, and by the time
the resultant altercation was concluded, the clustered roofs of Empress
rose out of the prairie.




CHAPTER XXIII

LIBERTY


Sleep had brought me a brief forgetfulness, but the awakening was not
pleasant when I painfully straightened my limbs on the jolting platform,
while the twin whistles shrieked ahead. Every joint ached from the
previous day's exertions, my borrowed garments were clammy with dew, and
I shivered in the cold draught that swept past the slowing cars. The sun
had not cleared the grayness which veiled the east, and, frowned down
upon by huge elevators which rose higher and higher against a lowering
sky, the straggling town loomed up depressingly out of the surrounding
desolation. The pace grew slower, a thicket of willows choked with empty
cans and garbage slid by, then the rails of the stockyards closed in on
each hand, and we jolted over the switches into the station, which was
built, as usual, not in, but facing, the prairie town.

There was no sign of life in its ill-paved streets, down which the dust
wisps danced; bare squares of wooden buildings, devoid of all
ornamentation, save for glaring advertisements which emphasized their
ugliness, walled them in, and the whole place seemed stamped with the
dreariness which characterizes most prairie towns when seen early on a
gloomy morning by anybody not in the best of spirits. My
fellow-passengers were apparently asleep, but I was the better pleased,
having no desire for speech, and I dropped from the platform as soon as
the locomotive stopped. Hurrying out of the station, I did not turn
around until a row of empty farm wagons hid the track, which action was
not without results.

One hotel door stood open, but knowing that its tariff was not in
accordance with my finances, I passed it by and patrolled the empty
streets until the others, or a dry goods store, should make ready for
business. One of the latter did so first, and when I entered a mirror
showed that the decision was not unnecessary. The borrowed jacket was
far too small, the vest as much too large, while somebody's collar cut
chokingly into my sunburnt neck. Still, the prices the sleepy clerk
mentioned were prohibitive, and after wasting a little time in somewhat
pointed argument--of which he had the better--I strode out of the store,
struggling with an inclination to assault him. Western storekeepers are
seldom characterized by superfluous civility, and there are
disadvantages attached to a life in a country so free that, according to
one of its sayings, any man who cannot purchase boots may always walk
barefooted.

"I don't know what the outfit you've got on cost you, and shouldn't
wonder, by the way it fits, if you got it cheap," he said. "We don't
turn out our customers like scarecrows, anyway, and if you'd had the
money we would have tried to make a decent show of you."

I was nevertheless able, after almost emptying my purse, to replace at
least the vest and jacket at a rival establishment, whose proprietor
promised to forward the borrowed articles to their legitimate owners. I
afterwards discovered that they never received them.

"You look smart as a city drummer, the top half of you, but it makes the
rest look kind of mean. You want to live up to that coat," he said,
after a critical survey.

"I can't do it at the price, unless you will take your chances of
getting paid when the stock go East," I said; and the dealer shook his
head sorrowfully.

"We don't trade that way with strangers, and I don't know you."

I was in a reckless mood, and some puerile impulse prompted me to
astonish him. "My name is Henry Ormesby!"

The man positively gasped, and then, with Western keenness, prepared to
profit by the opportunity. "I'll fit you out all for nothing if you'll
walk round to the photographer's and give me your picture with a notice
to stick in the window that you think my things the best in town," he
said. "It would be worth money every time the prairie boys come in, and
I don't mind throwing a little of it into the bargain."

This was exasperating, but I could not restrain a mirthless laugh; and,
leaving the enterprising dealer astonished that any man should refuse
such an offer, I hurried out of the store; but by the time the breakfast
hour arrived all trace of even sardonic humor had left me. It was with
difficulty I had raised sufficient ready money for the journey, and
there now remained but two or three silver coins in my pocket, while,
remembering that the dealer had been justified in pointing out the
desirability of a complete renovation, I reflected gloomily that it
would be useless, because, in all probability, the nation would shortly
feed and clothe me. I also remembered how I had seen men with heavy
chains on their ankles road-making before the public gaze in a British
Columbian town.

Meanwhile I was very hungry, and presently sat down to a simple
breakfast in a crowded room. While waiting a few minutes my eyes fell on
a commercial article in a newspaper, which, while noting a revival of
trade, deplored the probable abandonment of much needed railroad
extension. The writer appeared well posted, and mentioned the road we
hoped so much from as one of the works which would not be undertaken. I
laid down the journal with a sigh, and noticed that the men about me
were discussing the coming trial.

"I expect they'll send Ormesby up," said one man, between his rapid
gulps. "Don't know whether he done it, but he threatened the other
fellow, and said he'd see him roasted before he helped; while that
match-box would fix most anybody up."

"Well, I don't know," observed a neighbor. "The match-box looks bad; but
I guess if I'd been burning a place up I shouldn't have forgotten it.
Still, it might be fatal unless he could disown it. As to the other
thing, I don't count much on what he said. A real fire-bug would have
kept his mouth shut and helped all he was worth instead of saying
anything."

"I'm offering five to one he goes up. Any takers?" said the first
speaker; and it was significant that, although most Westerners are keen
at a bet, nobody offered.

"I'd do it for less, 'cept for the match-box," said one.

I managed to finish my breakfast, feeling thankful that--because (so
their appearance suggested) those who sat at meat had driven in from the
prairie to enjoy the spectacle--none of them recognized me. The odds, in
their opinion, were more than five to one against me, and I agreed with
them. Slipping out I found Dixon, and reported my presence to the
police; and, after what seemed an endless waiting at the court, it was
early afternoon when Dixon said to me: "They'll be ready in five
minutes, and I want you to keep a tight rein on your temper, Ormesby. I
can do all the fancy talking that is necessary. You can keep your heart
up, too. There are going to be surprises for everyone to-day."

I was called in a few minutes, and if the court had been thronged on
previous occasions, it was packed to suffocation now. It was a bare,
ugly, wood-built room, even dirtier than it was dingy. Neither is there
anything impressive, save, perhaps, to the culprit, about the
administration of Western justice, and I was thankful for a lethargy
which helped me to bear the suspense with outward indifference. Nothing
striking marked the first part of the proceedings, and I sat listening
to the drawl of voices like one in a dream. Some of the spectators
yawned, and some fidgeted, until there was a sudden stir of interest as
the name "Thomas Wilkins" rang through the court.

"I guess that's the prosecution's trump ace," said a man beneath me.

I became suddenly intent as this witness took his stand. He was of the
usual type of Canadian-born farm hand, bronzed and wiry, but not heavily
built, and hazarded what I fancied was a meaning glance at me. I could
not understand it, for he seemed at once ashamed and exultant.

"I was hired by Rancher Niven to help him at Gaspard's Trail, and
remember the night of the fire well. Guess anybody who'd been trod on by
a horse and left with broken bones to roast would," he said; and
proceeded to confirm Niven's testimony. This was nothing new, and the
interest slackened, but revived again when the witness approached the
essential part of his story, and I could hear my own heart thumping more
plainly than the slow drawling voice.

"I was round at the wreck of the homestead some time after the fire.
Don't know the date, but Niven made a note of it. Kind of precise man he
was. The place wasn't all burnt to the ground, and Niven he crawls in
under some fallen logs into what had been the kitchen. The door opened
right on to the prairie, and anybody could slip in if they wanted to.
Niven grabbed at something on the floor. 'Come along and take a look at
this,' says he; and I saw it was a silver match-box he held up. There
was 'H. Ormesby' not quite worn off it. Niven he prospects some more,
and finds a flattened coal-oil tin. Yes, sir, those you are holding up
are the very things. 'We don't use that brand of oil, and buy ours in
bigger cans,' says he."

I could see by the spectators' faces it was damaging testimony, and
Dixon's serene appearance was incomprehensible, while, for the benefit
of those ignorant of Western customs, it may be explained that kerosene
is sold in large square tins for the settler's convenience in several
parts of the Dominion.

"I went over to the store with Niven next day," continued the witness.
"The man who kept it allowed that Rancher Ormesby was about the only man
he sold that brand to in small cans."

There were signs of subdued sensation, and Wilkins continued: "We gave
them both to Sergeant Mackay, and by-and-by I was summoned to come here
and testify. I came right along; then it struck me it was mean to help
in sending up the man who'd saved my life. So I just lit out and hid
myself until the police trailed me."

It was news to hear that Lane had no hand in the witness's
disappearance; and again he flashed an apparently wholly unwarranted,
reassuring glance in my direction. Then, while I wondered hopelessly
whether Dixon could shake his testimony, the latter stood up.

"I purpose to ask Thomas Wilkins a few questions later, and will not
trouble him about the match-box, being perfectly satisfied as to the
accuracy of the facts he states," he said.

I could see the spectators stare at him in surprise, and, wondering if
he had lost his senses, settled myself to listen as the storekeeper
deposed to selling me oil of the description mentioned, adding
reluctantly that very few others took the same size of can. This, and a
lengthy speech, closed the prosecutor's case, and it seemed, when he had
finished, that nothing short of a miracle could save me. The audience
was also evidently of the same opinion.

Dixon commenced feebly by submitting evidence as to my uprightness of
character, which his opponent allowed to pass unchallenged with a
somewhat contemptuous indifference. Then he said: "It will be remembered
that in his evidence Sergeant Mackay deposed that the witness Niven told
him the burning homestead was not insured, and I will call the Western
agent of a famous fire office."

The evidence of the gentleman in question was brief and to the point. "I
have heard the statement that Gaspard's Trail was not insured, and can't
understand it. The witness Niven took out a policy three months before
the fire, and sent in his claim straight off to me. The company declined
to meet it until this case was settled. Am I quite certain, or can I
offer any explanation? Well, here's our premium receipt foil and record
of the policy. Can't suggest any explanation, except that somebody is
lying."

This was received with some sensation, and Dixon smiled at me as if
there were more in store. "You will observe that the witness Niven
cannot be considered a very truthful person. I will recall Thomas
Wilkins," he said.

Wilkins had lost his shamefacedness when he reappeared. "I said the
prisoner saved my life, and meant just that," he said, answering a
question. "It was he who took me out of the fire, and I had sense enough
to see he was leading the boys who saved all Niven's horses. It's my
opinion--you don't want opinions? Well, I'll try to pitch in the solid
facts."

"Your master went East for a few days before the fire and brought a case
of groceries home with him," said Dixon. "Will you tell us if you opened
that case?"

"I did," was the answer. "He sent me into the station for it with the
check. Said our storekeeper was a robber, and he'd saved money by buying
down East. It was a blame heavy case, so I started to open it in the
wagon, and had just pulled the top off when Niven came along."

"Did you see anything except groceries in it?" asked Dixon; and there
was a stirring in the court when Wilkins answered: "I did. I had lit on
to the top of three coal-oil tins when the boss came in."

"Did he look pleased at your diligence?"

"No, sir. He looked real mad. 'If you'll do what you're asked to without
mixing up my private things it will be good enough for me. Get your
horses fixed right now,' he said."

"You are sure about the oil tins? Were they large or small--and did you
ever see them or the groceries again?"

"Dead sure," was the answer. "I stowed the groceries in the kitchen, but
never saw the oil. It was a smaller size than we used, any way. Didn't
think much about it until I read a paper about this trial not long ago.
Begin to think a good deal now."

I drew in a deep breath, and the movements of expectant listeners grew
more audible when, reminded that his impressions were not asked for,
Wilkins stepped down. Hope was beginning to dawn, for I could see that
Dixon was on the trail of a conspiracy. Everybody seemed eager, the
prosecutor as much so as the rest, and there was a deep silence when
Dixon folded up the paper on which he had been making notes.

"My next witness is Miss Lucille Haldane, of Bonaventure," he said.

There was a low murmur, every head was turned in the same direction, and
I grew hot with shame and indignation when Haldane's younger daughter
walked into the witness stand. It seemed to me a desecration that she
should be dragged forward into an atmosphere of crime as part of the
spectacle before a sea of curious faces, and I had never felt the
enforced restraint so horribly oppressive as when I read admiration in
some of them. Had it been possible to wither up Dixon with a glance it
is hardly likely that he would ever have handled a case again. The girl
looked very young and pretty as, with a patch of almost hectic color in
each cheek, and a brightness in her eyes, she took her place. She wore
no veil, and held herself proudly as, without sign of weakness, she
looked down at the assembly. While she did so there was, without
articulate sound, something that suggested wonder and approval in the
universal movement, and I heard a man beneath me say: "She's a daisy.
Now we're coming right into the business end of the play."

"You know the prisoner, Ormesby?" asked Dixon; and though her voice was
low, its clear distinctness seemed to permeate the building as she
answered: "I do. He is a friend of my father's, and visited us at
Bonaventure occasionally."

"Did you ever see a silver match-box in his possession, and, if so,
could you describe it?"

"I did, on several occasions. He wore it hooked on to his watch-chain,
and once handed it to me to light a lamp with. It had an oak-leaf
engraving with a partly obliterated inscription--'From ---- to H.
Ormesby.'"

"I think that is an accurate description," said Dixon; and when the
judge, who held up a little silver object and passed it on to the jury,
signified assent, I glanced in savage bewilderment at the speaker. It
had appeared shameful cruelty to hale that delicate girl into a crowded
court; now it also appeared sheer madness. She never once glanced in my
direction, but stood with head erect, one hand resting on the rails,
where the pitiless sunlight beat full upon her, with eyes fixed only on
the judge; but in spite of her courage I could see that her lips
trembled, while the little gloved fingers tightened spasmodically on the
rails. Then I hung my head for very shame that I had been the unwitting
cause of such an ordeal, feeling that I would prefer to suffer ten
convictions rather than that she should become a subject for discussion
in every saloon, and the free commentary of the Western press, even if
she could have saved me.

"When did you last see the match-box?" asked Dixon.

"On the morning of the Wednesday in the third week after the fire. I am
sure of the day, because the visit of some friends from Montreal
impressed it on my memory. Henry Ormesby had stayed all night at
Bonaventure and left early in the morning. A maid brought me the
match-box, which she had found on the bureau, with one or two articles
of clothing; and as he did not return I told her to slip the match-box
inside the packet and forward them. I forgot the incident until the
trial recalled it."

As Lucille ceased it flashed upon me that I had wondered how the
match-box had made its way into a pocket in which I never carried it.
Then I was borne down by a great wave of gratitude to the girl who, it
seemed, had saved me. She was rigorously cross-examined, and, while I do
not know whether the prosecutor exceeded due limits in his efforts to
shake her evidence, I grew murderously inclined towards him as I noticed
how his victim's color came and went, and the effort it cost her not to
shrink under the questions. But her courage rose with the emergency, and
when the indignation crept into her eyes there was several times subdued
applause as her answer to some innuendo carried a rebuke with it.

At last the approbation was no more subdued, but swelled into a hoarse
murmur which filled all the court when she drew herself up at the
question: "And it was because you were a firm friend of the prisoner's
you recollected all this so opportunely, and, in spite of the
diffidence any lady in your position would feel, volunteered to give
evidence?"

The damask patch had spread to Lucille Haldane's forehead, but instead
of being downcast her eyes were filled with light. "No," she said; and
the vibration in her voice had a steely ring. "It was because I am a
Canadian, and accordingly desired to see justice done to an innocent
man. Can you consider such a desire either uncommon or surprising?"

A full minute had elapsed before the case proceeded, during which an
excitable juryman rose and seemed on the point of haranguing the
assembly until a comrade dragged him down. Then laughter broke through
the murmurs as he gesticulated wildly amid shouts of "Order."

A Scandinavian domestic quaintly corroborated her mistress's statement,
and there was no doubt that the scale was turned; but Dixon did not
leave his work half-completed, and the next witness confirmed this
evidence.

"I keep the Railroad Hotel. It's not a saloon, but a hotel, with a big
H," he said. "Know Harry Ormesby well. Saw him about three weeks after
the fire lighting a cigar I gave him from a silver match-box. Oh, yes,
I'm quite sure about the box; had several times seen the thing before.
Was pretty busy when the boys started smoking round the stove after
supper, and forgot to pick up something bright beneath Ormesby's chair.
Was going to tell him he'd dropped his box, when somebody called me. The
boys cleared out when the cars came in, and I saw Niven among them. Knew
him as a customer--don't want to as a friend. Got too much of the coyote
about him. My Chinaman was turning out the lights when I saw somebody
slip back quietly. He grabbed at something by the chair, and went out by
the other door. There was only a light in the passage left, and I didn't
quite recognize him. Could swear it wasn't Ormesby, and think he was
more like Niven. Asked Niven about it afterwards, and he said it wasn't
he; didn't see Ormesby, but wired his lawyer when I'd read the papers.
Don't believe Ormesby had enough malice in him to burn up a hen-house."

There were further signs of sensation, and Sergeant Mackay was called
again. He had ridden over to Gaspard's Trail the day following the fire,
and decided to clear out the refuse dump, he said. Then the whole
audience grinned, when, being asked why he did so, he glanced at the
jury as if for sympathy, answering: "I was thinking I might find
something inside it. A man must do his duty, but it was a sairly
distressful operation." He found two unopened coal-oil tins resembling
the flattened one, and was certain by the appearance of the dump they
had been placed there some time before the fire.

There was no further evidence. Dixon said very little, but that little
told. The jury had scarcely retired before one of them reappeared, and,
with a rush of blood to my forehead and a singing in my ears, I caught
the words--"Not guilty!"

Then, when the judge, and even the prosecuting counsel, said he fully
concurred, the murmurs swelled until they filled the court again; and
presently I was standing outside, a free man, in the center of an
excited crowd, for Western citizens are desperately fond of any
sensation. How many cigars and offers of liquid refreshment were thrust
upon me I do not remember, but they were overwhelmingly numerous, and I
was grateful when Dixon came to the rescue.

"Mr. Ormesby is much obliged to you, gentlemen, but it's quiet he wants
just now," he said; while we had hardly reached the leading hotel where
Dixon led me than there was a clamor in the direction of the court, and
I looked at him inquiringly.

"I expect they've issued a warrant for Niven on a charge of conspiracy
or arson, and the boys have heard of it," he said. "However, I have had
sufficient professional occupation for to-day, and we're going to get
supper and afterwards enjoy ourselves as we can."

I had, nevertheless, determined to thank my benefactress first, and,
ignoring Dixon's advice, sent up my name. I was informed that Miss
Haldane would receive nobody, and the lawyer smiled dryly when I
returned crestfallen. "I don't think you need feel either hurt or
surprised," he said.

The inhabitants of the prairie towns differ from the taciturn plainsmen
in being vociferously enthusiastic and mercurial, and to my disgust the
citizens came in groups to interview me, while one, who shoved his way
into our quarters by main force, said the rest would take it kindly if I
made a speech to them.

"You can tell them I feel honored, but nobody can charge me with ever
having done such a thing in my life," I said; and the representatives of
the populace retired, to find another outlet for their energies, as we
presently discovered.

"I owe my escape solely to a lady's courage and your skill, Dixon; but
why didn't you try to implicate Lane?" I said; and the lawyer laughed.

"Any reasonable man ought to be satisfied with the verdict and
demonstration. It would have been difficult, if not useless, while I
fancy that if Lane is allowed a little more rope his time will shortly
come," he said. "Hallo! Here are more enthusiastic citizens desirous of
interviewing you."

"Keep them out for heaven's sake," I said; but before Dixon could secure
the door Sergeant Mackay strode in.

"I have come to congratulate ye. It will be a lesson til ye, Ormesby,"
he announced.

I did not see the hand he held out. "I'm in no mood for sermons, and
can't appreciate your recent actions as they perhaps deserve," I said;
and the sergeant's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"It should not be that difficult; and ye have the consolation that we
served the State," he said. "It was in the interests of justice
we--well--we made use of ye to stalk the other man."

"There's no use pretending I'm grateful," I commenced; but Dixon broke
into a boisterous laugh, and the sergeant's face grew so humorous that
my own relaxed and we made friends again. The reunion had not long been
consummated when a rattle of wheels, followed by the tramp of many feet
and the wheezy strains of a cornet, rose from below, and, striding to
the window, I said with dismay: "Lock the door. They're coming with a
band and torches now."

"I'm thinking ye need not," said Mackay dryly. "It's a farewell to Miss
Haldane they're giving."

We gathered at the opened window, looking down at a striking spectacle.
A vehicle stood waiting, and behind it, lighted by the glow of kerosene
torches, a mass of faces filled the street. The heads were uncovered
almost simultaneously, and Lucille Haldane appeared upon the hotel
steps, with her attendants behind her. At first she shrank back a little
from the gaze of the admiring crowd, to whom her spirit and beauty had
doubtless appealed; but when one of them urged something very
respectfully, with his hat in his hand, she moved forward a pace and
stood very erect, a slight but queenly figure, looking down at them.

"I am honored, gentlemen," she said falteringly, though her voice gained
strength. "It was merely a duty I did, but I am gratified that it
pleased you, just because it shows that all of us are proud of our
country and eager, for its credit, to crush oppression and see justice
done to the downtrodden."

The street rang with the cheer that followed, and when Dixon seized his
hat the action was infectious. The next minute we were moving forward
amid the ranks of the enthusiastic crowd behind the vehicle, which
jolted slowly towards the station; and I discovered later that the
uncomfortable sensation at the back of my neck was caused by the hot oil
from a torch, which dripped upon it. In the meantime I noticed nothing
but the sea of faces, the tramp of feet, and the final burst of cheering
at the station, in which Mackay, holding aloft his forage cap, joined
vociferously.

"It's only fit and proper. She's as good and brave as she's bonny," he
said.




CHAPTER XXIV

A SECRET TRIBUNAL


Some little time had elapsed since my acquittal, when, one pleasant
summer morning, I rode out from the railroad settlement bound for
Bonaventure. The air was soft and balmy, the sunshine brilliant, and the
prairie sod, which, by that time, had in most years grown parched and
dry, formed a springy green carpet beneath the horse's feet. There had
but once before been such a season within my memory, and my spirits were
almost as buoyant as the wallet in my pocket was heavy. The lean years
had passed and left us, perhaps a little more grave in face and quiet in
speech, to look forward to a brightening future, while the receipts I
had brought back from the nearest town meant freedom at least.

I was also unwearied in body, for the roll of paper money in the wallet
had made a vast difference to me, and instead of riding all night after
a long railroad journey, I had slept and breakfasted well at the wooden
hotel. Indeed, I almost wondered whether I were the same man who had
previously ridden that way in a state of sullen desperation, spurred on
by hatred and dogged obstinacy instead of hope. Now I was, however,
rather thankful than jubilant, for my satisfaction was tempered by a
perhaps unusual humility. Steel, Thorn, and I had, in our own blundering
fashion, made the best fight we could, but it was the generosity of
others and the winds of heaven which had brought us the victory.

Distance counts for little in these days, when the steel track and the
modern cargo steamer together girdle the face of the globe; and the loss
of others had been our gain. There had been scarcity in Argentina, and
Australian grass was shriveling for want of rain. Famine had smitten
India, and the great cattle-barons beyond our frontier had been
overbusily engaged, attempting the extermination of the smaller
settlers, to attend their legitimate business; so buyers in Europe were
looking to Canada for wheat and cattle. Our own beasts had flourished,
and before the usual season we had driven every salable head in to the
railroad, riding in force behind them. That drive and the events which
followed it were worth remembering.

I sold the cattle in Winnipeg for excellent prices, and deducting my own
share of the proceeds, took the first train westward to visit Lane, and
paid him down three-fourths of the balance of the loan. Having bought
wisdom dearly, I took a lawyer with me. Lane showed neither surprise nor
chagrin, though he must have felt both, and I could almost admire the
way he bore defeat. He was less a man than a money-making machine, and
the more to be dreaded for his absence of passion. Rage was apparently
as unknown to him as pity, and, though he knew he had lost Crane Valley,
and with it the completion of a well-laid scheme, he actually pushed a
cigar-box towards me as he signed the receipt. I drew a deep breath of
relief as I passed the papers to the lawyer, for the harvest would more
than cover what remained of the debt, and then I laid down certain sums
on behalf of others. Lane smiled almost affably as he tossed the
quittances upon the table.

"They're all in order, Rancher. A capable man don't need to use
second-rate trickery, and I'm open to allow that the bull-frog was hard
to squash," he said.

I pocketed the documents and went out in silence. Speech would have been
useless, because the man had no sensibilities that could be wounded; but
the interview struck me as a grotesquely commonplace termination of a
struggle which had cost me months of misery. Indeed, I found it hard to
convince myself that what had happened was real, and the heavy burden
flung off at last. Being by no means a mere passionless money-making
machine, I had, nevertheless, not finished with Lane.

It was evening the next day when I reached Bonaventure, and was shown
into the presence of its owner, who had lately returned there from the
East. He looked haggard, and did not rise out of the chair he lounged
in, though his voice was cordial. "You have been successful, Ormesby. I
can see it by your face," he said.

"I have, sir," I answered. "More so than I dared to hope, and I fancy
you will be astonished when you count these bills. The Bonaventure draft
played a leading part in my release, and now I find it difficult to
realize that the luck has changed at last."

It was not quite dark outside, but the curtains were drawn, and Haldane
sat beside a table littered with papers under a silver reading-lamp. His
face looked curiously ascetic and thin, but the smile in his keen eyes
was genial. Boone sat opposite him smoking, and nodded good-humoredly to
me.

"You will soon get used to prosperity, and there is no occasion for
gratitude," Haldane said, tossing the roll of paper money across the
table, but taking up the account I laid beside it. "I notice that you
have earned me a profit of twenty per cent. You have tolerable business
talents in your own direction, Ormesby, and I shall expect your good
counsel in the practical management of Bonaventure which I have
undertaken."

"The management of Bonaventure?" I said, and Haldane's forehead grew
wrinkled as he nodded.

"Exactly. The verdict has been given. No more exciting corners or
supposititious heaping up of unearned increments for me. I am sentenced
by the specialists to a dormant life and open-air exercise, and have
accordingly chosen the rearing of cattle on the salubrious prairie."

I guessed what that sentence meant to a man of his energies; but he had
accepted it gracefully, and I was almost startled when he said: "Do you
know that I envied you, Ormesby, even when things looked worst for you?"

I could only murmur a few not overappropriate words of sympathy, though
I fancied that had Haldane been under the same grip he might have envied
me less.

"It takes time to grow used to idleness, which is why I sent for you
to-night," he said, with a swift resumption of his usual tone. "I
purpose to teach Lane that he is not altogether so omnipotent as he
believes himself--partly by way of amusement and to forward certain
views of my own, and partly because my younger daughter insists that he
is a menace to every honest man on the prairie. Boone appears inclined
to agree with her."

"I might even go a little further, sir," said Boone.

Haldane ignored the comment, and pointed to the papers, of which there
appeared to be a bushel. "I have been posting myself in my new
profession, and conclude that the prospects for grain and live stock are
encouraging," he said. "News from Chile, California, and the Austral,
all confirm this view; and, remembering it, we will consider Lane's
position. Boone has taken considerable pains to discover that, as I
expected, his resources are far from inexhaustible, and circumstances
point to the fact that he has set his teeth in too big a morsel. At
present neither the speculative public nor would-be emigrants have
grasped the position, and therefore Lane would get little if he realized
on his stolen lands just now."

"That is plain; but what results from it?" I said.

"Prosperity to poor men, according to my daughter;" and Haldane's smile
was not wholly cynical. "We purpose that he should realize as soon as
possible. Boone discovered that he is raising money to carry on by
quietly selling out his stock in the Investment Company which has
consistently backed him, and I feel inclined for a speculation in that
direction, especially as the public will shortly be invited to increase
the company's capital. Lastly, I am in possession of accurate
information, while Lane is not. Contrary to general opinion, the
railroad will be hurried through very shortly."

It was great news, and the possible downfall of my enemy perhaps the
least of it. It implied swift prosperity for all that district, and
while I stared at the speaker the blood surged to my forehead. Though
fate had robbed me of the best, part of what I had toiled, and fought,
and suffered for was to come about at last; and the calmness of the
others appeared unnatural. Haldane's eyes were keen, but he showed no
sign of unusual interest; Boone's face was merely grim, and I guessed
that the man whose heel had been on my neck would fare ill between them.

"If he had used legitimate weapons one could almost be sorry for him," I
said. "It will try even his nerve to lose all he has plotted for when
the prize is actually, if he knew it, within his grasp."

"He deserves no mercy," Boone broke in. "This is justice, Ormesby,
neither more nor less; and unless we cripple him once for all he will
take hold again with the first bad season. What you will shortly hear
should demonstrate the necessity for decisive measures; but our host
forgot to mention that he declines to profit individually by this
opportunity."

"If anyone wishes to learn my virtues he can apply to certain company
promoters in Montreal," said Haldane languidly. "Boone will remember
that I came here to farm for my health, and have been coerced into
assisting at this Vehmgericht. Those wheels, however, give warning that
the first sitting will commence."

A minute or two later I started wrathfully to my feet as Niven was
ushered into the room. He on his part seemed equally astonished, and, I
think, would have backed out again, but that Boone adroitly slammed the
door behind him. It may be mentioned that he had been tried in my place,
and, to the disgust of Sergeant Mackay, just escaped conviction.

"I need not introduce Mr. Ormesby, who will kindly resume his place,"
said Haldane pleasantly. "Sit down and choose a cigar if you feel like
it. You sent word you wanted to talk to me?"

"I didn't want to talk to that man;" and Niven scowled at me, while
Haldane shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't turn him out, you see. Now hadn't you better explain what you
want with me?"

There was a languid contempt beneath the speaker's surface good-humor
which was not lost on the fidgeting man; but he lighted a cigar with an
air of bravado, and commenced:

"Thinking over things, I figured both you and Adams had your knife in
Lane;" and Haldane's mild surprise was excellently assumed. "Well, I've
got my own knife in him, too. It's this way. Lane put up the money for
me to buy out Ormesby, and made a mighty close bargain, thinking I
daren't kick. It would have been inconvenient, and I didn't mean to; but
when those blame police ran me in for a thing I never done, he just
turns his back, and wouldn't put up a dollar to defend me! 'I've no use
for blunderers of your kind,' says he."

"One could understand that it is necessary for him to make sure of his
subordinates' abilities," said Haldane reflectively; and Niven, who
stared hard at him, appeared to gulp down something before he proceeded.

"Well, he can't fool with me, and it comes to this. I'm recorded owner
of Gaspard's Trail; paid for it with my own check--Lane fixed that up.
Now, what I want to ask you is, how's Lane going to turn me out if I
hold on to the place? Strikes me he can't do it."

In spite of this assurance the speaker looked distinctly eager until
Haldane answered: "We need not discuss the moral aspect of the case,
because it apparently hasn't one, and you might not understand it if it
had. Speaking from a purely business point of view, I feel tolerably
certain that, in the circumstances, he would not take legal proceedings
against you, though I have no doubt he might arrange the affair in some
other way."

"Feel quite sure?" asked Niven. And Haldane answered: "I may say I do."

Niven's grin of triumph would have sickened any honest man, but I was
not sorry for his employer. "I guess I'll take my chances of the other
way, and I'm coming straight to business. Will you stand behind me? It's
not going to be a charity. There is money in Gaspard's Trail, and I'm
open to make a fair deal with the man who sees me through."

I saw Haldane's lips set tightly for a moment, and my hand itched for a
good hold of Niven's collar; but the master of Bonaventure next
regarded him with a quiet amusement which appeared disconcerting.

"I fancy your worthy master was correct when he described you as a
blunderer," he said. "It would be quite impossible for me to make a
bargain of that--or any other--kind with you. You might also have added
that he inspired you to more than the buying of Gaspard's Trail."

There was pluck in Niven, for he laughed offensively. "I got my verdict,
and if you won't deal I may as well be going. Anyhow, you've told me
what I most wanted to know."

He departed without further parley, and Haldane smiled at me. "It would
have been a pity to detain him, and Lane was wrong in choosing an
understudy he could not scare into submission. That rascal will hold on
to Gaspard's Trail, and the loss of it will further hamper his master."

Some little time passed, and Boone, who appeared impatient, said at
last: "She is late; but Gordon may have been too busy to drive her over
earlier, and she promised me faithfully that she would come."

Haldane said nothing, though he seemed dubious until there was another
sound of wheels, and I had a second surprise when a lady was ushered
into the room, for I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw that it
was Redmond's daughter. She had changed greatly from the girl who called
down vengeance on the oppressor when we brought her father home,
although the glitter in her eyes and the intentness of her face showed
the strain of emotional nature in her. Still, she was handsomely and
tastefully dressed, and carried herself with dignity.

"This is Mr. Haldane, Miss Redmond, and I am sure he will be grateful to
you for coming," said Boone, who I noticed appeared relieved when the
new arrival laid a packet on the table. "I may explain for Ormesby's
benefit that Miss Redmond, who is winning fame as a singer, has
something of importance to show him," he added.

The girl's hand was very cold when it touched my own, and her movements
nervous as she drew a book in tattered binding out of its wrappings.

"I hope Mrs. Gordon will spare you as long as possible, and that your
visit to the prairie will do you good," said Haldane, placing a chair
for her.

"Once I fancied I could never look at the prairie without a shudder, but
of late I have been longing for sunshine and air, and shall perhaps be
happier when this is over," said the girl. "It is a very hard thing I
have to do, and I must tell you the whole painful story."

"We can understand that it must be," said Haldane gently.

"When I left home for Winnipeg I joined a second-rate variety company. I
had inherited a gift for singing, and those who heard me were pleased
with the old Irish ballads my mother taught me. So there was soon no
fear of poverty, and I was trying to bury the past, when, the night I
first sang to a packed audience in Winnipeg, it was once more dragged up
before me. I came home from what the newspapers said was a triumph, and
because one critic had questioned a verse of an old song I looked for a
book of my mother's among the relics I had brought from the prairie. I
found--this--instead."

Ailin Redmond ceased with a little gasp. And glancing at the dilapidated
account book she touched, I wondered what power it could have had to
change her triumph into an agony.

"I sat all that night beside the stove trying to force myself to burn
the book, and yet afraid," she continued. "Perhaps we are superstitious;
but I felt that I dare not, and its secret has been a very burden ever
since. Sometimes I thought of the revenge it would give me, and yet I
could not take it without blackening my father's memory. So I kept
silence until my health commenced to fail under the strain, and meeting
Mr. Boone at Brandan, where I sang at the time Mr. Ormesby's trial
filled the papers, I felt I must tell him part of my discovery. Had the
trial not ended as it did he would have consulted with Lawyer Dixon.
Afterwards, though I hated Lane the more, I pledged Mr. Boone to
secrecy, and kept silent until, when I could bear the load no longer, I
told my trouble to Père Louis. 'If you only desire vengeance it would be
better to burn the book; but if you can save innocent men from
persecution and prevent the triumph of the wicked, silence would be a
sin,' he said. Then I wrote to Mr. Boone and told him I would show the
papers to Mr. Ormesby."

I opened the battered volume handed me with a strong sense of
anticipation, and, as I did so, the girl shrank back shivering.
Redmond's writing was recognizable, and I thrilled alternately with pity
and indignation against another person as I read his testimony. Omitting
other details, the dated entries, arranged in debit and credit fashion,
told the whole story.

"Deep snow and stock very poor," the first I glanced at ran. "Received
from Ormesby three loads of hay. Sure 'tis a decent neighbor, for he
wouldn't take no pay. Entered so, if I ever have the luck, to send it
back to him.

"Plow-oxen sick; horse-team sore-backed; seven days' plowing done by
Ormesby, say--money at harvest, or to be returned in help stock driving.

"Fifty dollars loan from Ormesby; see entry overdue grocery bill."

"Is it necessary for me to read any more of these?" I asked.

"No. If you are satisfied that he at least recognized the debt, pass on
to the other marked pages," answered the writer's daughter.

I set my lips as I did so, for there was only one inference to be drawn
from the following entries, which ran dated in a series: "Demand for
fifteen hundred dollars from Lane. No credit, ten dollars in the house.
Lane came over, and part renewed the loan in return for services to be
rendered. Black curses on the pitiless devil! Took twenty head of prime
stock, to be driven to the hollow with Ormesby's. Started out with the
stock for Gaspard's Trail."

There were no further entries, and Miss Redmond, who had been watching
me, said, with a perceptible effort:

"You will remember all those dates well. Now read what is written on
the loose leaf. When I came in one night the book lay on the table with
that leaf projecting; but as my father was always fretting over the
accounts, I did not glance at it as I replaced the book."

The writing was blurred and scrawling--the work of an unstable man in a
moment of agony; and some of the half-coherent sentences ran: "It was
Lane and his master the devil who drove me. I did not mean to do what I
did; but when the fire came down, remembered he said 'any convenient
accident.' I knew it was murder when I saw Ormesby with the blood on his
face." Further lines were almost unintelligible, but I made out, "Judas.
No room on earth. Lane says he is dying fast. You will hate the man who
drove me for ever and ever."

I folded up the paper, and, not having read the whole of it, handed it
to the girl. "I am almost sorry you were brave enough to show me this;
but I can only try to forget it," I said.

Miss Redmond's eyes were dry; but she moved as if in physical pain, and
clenched one hand as she said: "That secret has worn me down for weary
months, and I dare not change my mind again. I shall never rest until it
is certain that wicked man shall drive no one else to destruction. You
must show Mr. Haldane all you have read."

Haldane laid down the book, and sat silent for at least a minute. "Will
you please tell us, Miss Redmond, how far you can allow us to make use
of this?" he said.

The girl shuddered before she answered: "It must not be made public; but
if in any other way you can strike Lane down, I will leave it you. You
can hardly guess what all this has cost me; but, God forgive me, the
hate I feel is stronger than shame--and his last words are burned into
my brain."

Ailin Redmond rose as she spoke, and I saw that part of Père Louis's
admonition had fallen upon stony ground. Her face and pose were what
they had been when she had bidden us bring the dead man in. She came of
a passionate race; but there had also been a signal lack of balance in
her father's temperament, and perhaps it was this very strain of
wildness which had made her singing a success.

Haldane, with expressions of sympathy, led her to the door, and
returning, sat staring straight before him with a curious expression. "I
don't know that the stolid, emotionless person is not far the happiest,"
he said at last. "She must have suffered a good deal--poor soul; and,
even allowing that you had not seen those pitiful papers, I'm doubtful
if you acted quite wisely, Boone. However, the question now is: how are
we going to use them?"

"Nobody but ourselves must see them," I managed to answer, savage as I
was.

"I would make one exception," said the owner of Bonaventure. "That one
is the man responsible. It can be no enlightenment to him, and the fact
that he would not suspect us of any reluctance to make the most of our
power, strengthens our ability to deal with him."

Our conference ended shortly, and when we joined the others I saw that
Lucille Haldane had taken Redmond's daughter under her wing. How she had
managed it, of course I do not know; but the latter appeared comforted
already, and there was a gentle dimness instead of the former hard
glitter in her eyes. Then, and it was not for the first time, I felt
that I could have bowed down and worshiped the Mistress of Bonaventure.

It was evident that Boone had also been observant, for he afterwards
said, with unusual gravity: "Women resembling Miss Lucille Haldane are
the salt of this sorrowful world. There was only one I ever knew to
compare with her, and she, being too good for it, was translated to
what, if only because she was called there, must be a better."

I agreed with his first statement entirely, and took his word for the
rest; but made no answer. Boone did not appear to desire one, and again
a strange longing filled his eyes while the shadow crept into his face.
I remembered it was written that the heart knows its own bitterness.




CHAPTER XXV

A CHANGE OF TACTICS


The fires of sunset were fading low down on the verge of the prairie
when I spoke for the last time with Beatrice Haldane, as it happened,
beside the splendid wheat. It was changing from green to ochre, and
there was a play of varied light athwart the rigid blades, which in its
own way emphasized the symmetry of the tall figure in pale-tinted
draperies. Miss Haldane was stately of presence, but it was symbolic of
the difference between us that while we of the prairie ever turned our
eyes instinctively towards the West, she stood looking back towards
civilization and the darkening East, with a cold green brilliancy
burning behind her head. It matched the face projected against it, which
was that of a statue, perfect in modeling, as I still think, if almost
as colorless and serene. Beatrice Haldane was very beautiful, and every
curve and fold of the simple dress was immaculate and harmonious because
it seemed a part of her.

My threadbare jean clung shapelessly about me, there was thick dust on
my old leggings and a rent in my broad hat, which trifles were, by
comparison, not without significance. Beatrice Haldane was clearly born
to take a leading place, with the eyes of many upon her, where life
pulsed fastest in the older world. I was a plain rancher, conscious, in
spite of theories concerning its dignity, of the brand of rude labor and
the stain of the soil; but at least my eyes were opened so that I had
seen the utter impossibility of a once cherished dream.

"The prairie is very beautiful to-night, and surely this grain promises
a splendid yield," she said. "I am glad that it is so, for it will leave
a pleasant memory. I shall probably never stand beside the wheat again."

This, I knew, was true. Beatrice Haldane would leave for Montreal and
Paris in a day or two, and, paying Bonaventure a farewell visit, she had
ridden over with her father, who had business with me. Strange to say, I
could now contemplate her approaching marriage with equanimity.

"There are many drawbacks, but it is a good country," I answered
thoughtfully.

Beatrice Haldane looked at me, and again I felt that she could still
draw my soul to the surface for inspection if she desired to. I also
fancied she knew her power, and wished to exercise it, but not from
pride in its possession.

"And yet you can now hardly hope for more than a laborious life and
moderate prosperity. The prairie is often dreary, and the toil almost
brutalizing. Are you still content?"

The sympathy in the voice robbed the words of any sting, and I answered
cheerfully: "It is all that you say; but there are compensations, and I
think no effort is thrown away. I can only repeat the old argument. One
can feel that he is playing a useful part in a comprehensive scheme even
in the muddiest tramp down a half-thawn furrow, and that every ear of
wheat called up or added head of cattle is needed by the world. Perhaps
the chief care of three-fourths of humanity concerns their daily bread.
Of course, our principal motive is the desire to attain our own, and you
may not understand that there is a satisfaction in the mere discovering
of how much one can do without, and, possibly as a result of this, that
one's physical nature rises equal to the strain."

"And what do you gain--the right to work still harder?" she asked. "I
can grasp the half-formed ideal in your mind, and it is old, for
thousands of years before Thoreau men enlarged on it. Still, it has
always seemed to me that the realization is only possible to the very
few, and to the rest the result mostly destructive to the intellect."

I laughed a little. "And I am very much of the rank and file; but at
least I have no hope of emulating either the medieval devotees or the
modern Hindoo visionaries. We practice self-denial from the prosaic lack
of money, or to save a little to sink in a longer furrow, and endure
fatigue more often to pay our debts than to acquire a bank balance. Yet
the result is not affected. The world is better fed."

"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "It seems that whatever your motives may
be these things possess virtue in themselves--but the virtues do not
necessarily react upon those who practice them."

"That is true," I answered. "Perhaps it is the motives that count."

Beatrice Haldane looked away towards the dying fires. "There was a time
when you would not have been content."

The wondrous green transparency had almost gone, the dew touched the
wheat, and we stood alone in the emptiness, under the hush that crept up
with the dimness from the east, and through which one could almost hear
the thirsty grasses drink. I knew now that I had never loved Beatrice
Haldane as a man usually loves a woman, but had offered an empty homage
to an unreality. Still, the semblance had once been real enough to me,
and I could not wholly hold my peace and let her go. Furthermore, both
she and her sister possessed the gift of forcing one's inmost thoughts,
and there was a power in the quiet voice stronger than my will.

"No. I once had my ambitions and an ideal," I said. "At first their
realization seemed possible, but I had my lesson. Even when I knew the
ideal was unattainable, the knowledge did not decrease its influence,
and now, while smiling at past presumption, I can at least cherish the
memory. I think you must have known part of this."

Beatrice Haldane had by knowledge attained to a perfection of
simplicity, and, while my own was either the result of ignorance or born
in me, we met upon it as man and woman--the latter too queenly to stoop
to any small assumption of diffidence.

"I guessed it long ago, and there was a time when I was pleased," she
said. "However, it was doubtless well for you that, when contact with
the world taught me what we both were, I knew it was impossible. When we
met again on the prairie, you could not see that I was not the girl you
knew in England. She had, in the meantime, bought enlightenment dearly;
though whether it or her earlier fancies were nearer the hidden truth
she does not know."

"In one respect you can never change to me," I said. "The sunny-faced
girl in England will always live in my memory."

Beatrice Haldane smiled, though the fast fading light showed the
weariness in her eyes. "Until you find the substance better than the
shadow; and she must always have been unreal. Still, we are not proof
against such assurances, and I am even now partly pleased to hear you
say so. Do you know that you have shamed me, Harry Ormesby?"

"That would be impossible," I said; and my companion smiled.

"Hold fast by your blunt directness if you are wise," she said. "I was
blinded by the critical faculty, and you rebuked me by clinging to your
visionary ideal, while I--misjudged you. I do not mind admitting now
that it hurt me, the more so when I found that Lucille, being--and there
is truth in the phrase--unspotted by the world, believed in you
implicitly. It was because of this I allowed you to speak as you have
done. I felt that I must ask your forgiveness, because we shall probably
never meet again."

Whether Beatrice Haldane was correct in her own estimate I do not know;
but she was the most queenly woman I had ever met, and I lifted the rent
hat as I said: "Circumstances betrayed me, and you could do no wrong.
Even if that had been possible, how far would one suspicion count
against all that the girl in England has done for me? Now it only
remains for us to part good friends--and with full sincerity I wish you
every happiness."

"Thank you," said Beatrice quietly; and without another word we walked
back towards the house together through the velvet dusk. I noticed that
Lucille glanced at us sharply as we entered.

"You will not forget our appointment in Winnipeg," said Haldane, as they
drove away; and I stood still long after the vehicle had melted into the
prairie. What I thought I do not remember; but it was with a dreamy
calmness that, now the worst had passed, I returned to Crane Valley.

Reluctance mingled with my anticipation when I proceeded to Winnipeg at
the appointed time. The harvest was almost ready, and a brief holiday
possibly justifiable in anticipation of that time of effort; but the
journey was long and expensive, while, after our severe economies, I had
fallen into the habit of slow consideration each time I spent a dollar.
Steel laughed when I said so, and pointed to the grain. "It's easier to
get used to prosperity than the other thing," he said. "There is plenty
money yonder to start you again. If necessary you can remember you have
earned a good time."

The sight of the long waves of deepening ochre that rolled before the
warm breeze was very reassuring, though belief came slowly, and for days
I had feared some fresh disaster. Their rhythmical rustle, swelled by
the murmur of the wheat heads and the patter of the oats, made sweet
music, for their undertone was hope, while the flash and flicker of the
bending blades presaged the glitter of hard-won gold--gold that would
set me a free man again. Then I was ashamed, and my voice a trifle
husky, as I said: "I am certainly going to Winnipeg, Steel. If it had
not been for the others the harvest would have left me in the grip of
Lane, and now that the time has come I mean to stand by them."

I boarded the cars the more contentedly that there was a note in my
pocket from Lucille Haldane. "Father tells me the time is ripe for you
and your friends to strike at last," it ran. "I want to ask you to
assist him in every way you can; and I wait anxiously to hear of your
success."

I did not understand the whole plan of campaign, but gathered that
Haldane, with the support of our prairie committee, would make a "bear"
attack on the company--which, while Lane held stock in it, had largely
financed him--and I looked forward with keen interest to the struggle.
We others had done our best with plow and bridle, not to mention birch
staff and fork; but we had hitherto acted chiefly on the defensive, and
now an attack was to be pushed home with the aid of money and a superior
intellect.

Haldane was in excellent spirits when, accompanied by Boone, he greeted
me in Winnipeg station. "I feel less rusty already, and you look several
years younger than you did a few months ago," he said. "But we have
breakfast ready, and can talk comfortably over it."

The meal was a luxurious one, and Haldane's explanations interesting.
"Mr. Boone has taken a great deal of trouble to inquire into Lane's
affairs, with the assistance of a man Dixon recommended. Considering the
difficulties, I hardly think I should have succeeded better myself," he
said.

Boone said this was an unmerited compliment; and Haldane laughed. "Well,
the result, as anticipated, is this. Lane has most of his money locked
up in mortgages which he does not wish to foreclose on immediately,
while we conclude that the rest is represented by shares in the
Territories Investment Company, which concern proposes to increase its
capital, and, as somebody has been trying to sell that stock quietly in
small lots, one may decide that he is short of money. We purpose to
scare off buyers and depreciate his shares by selling them in handfuls
as publicly as possible; or, in other words, to hammer the company."

"There are two points I am not clear about," I said. "We have not the
stock to sell; and wouldn't it be a trifle hard on innocent
shareholders?"

"We are finding out your capacities by degrees," said Haldane, with a
quizzical glance at me. "In the first place, we take the risk of being
able to procure the stock when frightened holders rush on the market. If
they don't--well, there will be a difficulty. In the second place, there
are no innocent holders, or only a very few. The corporation is a
semi-private concern--combination of second-rate sharpers of your
friend's own kidney; and the few outsiders are professional speculators
who take such risks as they come--they are only now thinking of an
appeal to the general public. Here is the latest balance sheet, and I
presume you are not anxious to see a continuance of that dividend wrung
out of your friends on the prairie."

My anger flamed up once more as I glanced at the figures. I had seen how
that profit was earned--not by the company's agents, but by careworn men
and suffering women, who toiled under a steadily increasing burden,
which was crushing the life out of them. I had also received a laconic
message from a combination of such as these: "Have paid in ---- dollars
to the B. O. M. We'll sell our boots to back you if Haldane's standing
in. Do the best you can."

Then I brought my fist down on the table as I said: "I'd walk out a
beggar to-morrow before that should happen. If this concern lives only
by such plunder, for heaven's sake let us demolish it. I can't eat
another morsel. Isn't it time to begin?"

Haldane smiled, and touched a bell. "My principal broker should be
waiting."

A little, spectacled man, with a shrill voice and insignificant
appearance, was ushered in, and, as I inspected him, Haldane's choice
reminded me of the Hebrew shepherd's sling. He appeared a very feeble
weapon to use against the giant who had oppressed us so grievously.
"Territories have been offering at several dollars' reduction," he said.
"Don't know why, unless it's the railroad uncertainty. You couldn't get
hold of one under full premium until lately."

The speaker, in spite of his declared ignorance, answered Haldane's
smile; and the latter said: "You can begin at a further five dollars
down. Come round in the afternoon and tell us how you are progressing.
Isn't there a race meeting somewhere about this place to-day?"

The broker said there was; and I was astonished when Haldane suggested
that we might as well attend it, for this part of the conflict was
evidently to be fought on wholly novel lines. We drove to the meeting,
and after the monotony of Crane Valley the sight of the light-hearted
crowd, the hum of voices and laughter, the gay dresses, and, above all,
the horses, was exhilarating. Nevertheless, it was some time before the
scene compelled my whole attention, for the issues of the business which
had brought me to Winnipeg appeared far too serious to justify such
trifling. By degrees, however, I yielded to the influence of the
stirring spectacle, and was at length amazed to find myself shouting
wildly with the rest when a handsome chestnut broke out from the ruck of
galloping horses a furlong from the post. Then, indeed, for a few
seconds I was oblivious of everything but the silk-clad figure and the
beautiful animal rushing past the dim sea of faces in the blaze of
sunshine behind, while the roar of hoofs and the human clamor set me
quivering. It was all so different from anything I had heard or seen on
the silent prairie. Boone returned presently, and I stared at the silver
coins he placed in my palm.

"You don't look satisfied, Ormesby, with the result of your few dollars.
Are you sorry I did not lay a decent stake, or have you been infected by
Lane?" he said; and I answered him dryly: "I'm sorry that, without
telling me, you staked anything at all. It is so long since I had any
money to risk on such amusements--and it does not seem fair to the
anxious men waiting on the prairie."

Haldane laughed. "It is generally wise to make the most of a pleasant
interlude, because the average man does not get too many of them. If
this strikes you as trifling, Ormesby, you will find grim enough
amusement before we are through."

It was afternoon when we returned to the city, and we recommenced the
campaign by a sumptuous lunch, during which the broker came in. "I've
been offering Territories until I'm hoarse," he said. "There was some
surprise and talking, but nobody wanted to buy; and, while it's an
honor to serve you, I don't see much of a commission in this."

"You will, if I know my opponents," said Haldane significantly. "Take
off two more dollars, and, if there are any buyers, don't let them think
you're not in earnest. You can put another of your friends on."

The broker departed and left me wondering. It struck me that to reduce
the value by open quotations should have been enough, without saddling
ourselves with contracts when we did not hold the stock; but it seemed
that cautious slowness was not Haldane's way. He next insisted on
playing billiards with me, and he played as well as I did badly, for my
fingers had grown stiff from the grip of the plow-stilts and bridle, and
we had small opportunity for such amusements on the prairie. Nothing of
importance happened during the remainder of the day, but I have a clear
recollection of how the throb of life from the busy city reacted on me
as we sat together on a balcony outside the smoking-room after dinner.
It was a hot night, and the streets were filled with citizens seeking
coolness in the open air. The place seemed alive with moving figures
that came and went endlessly under the glare of the great arc lights,
while the stir and brilliancy appeared unreal to me. The air throbbed
with voices, the clank of great freight trains in the station, and the
hum of trolley cars; while only one narrow strip of sky appeared between
the rows of stores, and that strip was barred by a maze of interlacing
wires. I felt as though I had awakened from a century's sleep on the
prairie.

"Somewhat different from Crane Valley," said Haldane, pointing with his
cigar towards the crowded wires. "I wonder how many of those are charged
with our business--it is tolerably certain that some of them are. We
have cheerfully thrown down the glove, and now the forces of fire and
air and water are all pressed into the service of spreading our
challenge across the continent. There's a mammoth printing machine in
yonder building reeling it off by the thousands of copies every hour in
its commercial reports, and those papers will be rushed east and west
to warn holders in Quebec or Vancouver to-night. Also, by this time,
Lane, wherever he is, will be spending money like water to keep the
wires humming. Feel uneasy about the explosion now that you have helped
to fire the train?"

"I feel curious both as to why you should take so much trouble to help
us, sir, and as to the enemy's first move," I said.

"To keep myself from rusting, for one thing, and because Lane is one man
too many down our way," was the careless answer. "If that does not
appear a sufficient motive I may perhaps mention another when we have
won. As to the other affair, Lane will, so long as his means hold out,
buy--or urge his friends to--while we sell. Just how far can you and the
men behind you go?"

I named a sum, which Haldane noted. "With what Boone and I have decided
to put up it will be enough if all goes well. If not--but we will not
trouble about that. This contract strikes me as a trifle too big for
Lane," he said.

I retired early, but scarcely slept all night. I felt that the struggle
would commence in earnest on the morrow, and Haldane's words had warned
me that our nerve and treasury might be taxed to the utmost before we
made good the challenge we had so lightly, it seemed to me, sent
broadcast across the Dominion.




CHAPTER XXVI

THE TURNING OF THE TIDE


I rose early next morning, and a stroll through the awakening city,
which was cool and fresh as yet, braced me for the stress of the day.
Haldane looked thoughtful at breakfast; Boone was silent and
suspiciously stolid, for he betrayed himself by the very slowness with
which he folded back the newspaper brought him to expose the commercial
reports. He handed it to Haldane, who nodded, saying nothing. It was a
relief to me, at least, when the meal was over, but afterwards the
morning passed very heavily, for I spent most of it haunting a dark
telephone box, where Haldane received and dispatched cabalistic
messages. I did not approve of conflict of this description, in which
the uninitiated could neither follow the points lost or won nor see the
enemy, and I should have preferred the hay-fork and a background of
sunlit prairie.

Noon seemed a very long time coming, and the report of the broker who
arrived with it far from reassuring. "We have sold a fair block of
stock, and I brought you the contracts to sign," he said. "Settlement
and all conditions as usual. Each time that we offered a round lot
Graham's salesman and another man took them up."

"Lane is taking hold. He has stirred up his allies," said Haldane. "I'll
put my name to these papers, and you can call down another few dollars
when you start again. I suppose there is no other person selling?"

"No," said the broker. "There were a good many other men curious about
our game, and I fancy one or two of them had instructions; but they did
nothing. We'll work up a sensation during the afternoon."

It would have greatly pleased me to hear of other persons parting with
their shares; but Haldane still looked confident, and Boone appeared to
place implicit faith in his generalship. I, however, grew more and more
anxious as the afternoon dragged by, for my sense of responsibility to
the men behind me increased when each tinkle of the telephone bell was
followed by a message reporting further sales. Somebody was steadily
taking up the stock we offered, and when, for the fourth time, Haldane
had answered my question, "Any sign of weakness yet?" in the negative, I
could stay indoors no longer, and found it a relief to stride briskly
through the busy streets towards a grain buyer's offices.

My own personal risk was heavy enough, but I knew also what it had cost
my prairie neighbors to raise the sum they had credited me with, and I
felt that, if beaten, I dare not return and face them with the news
that, losing all in an unsuccessful gamble, we had left them doubly
helpless at the mercy of a triumphant enemy. The interview with the
grain merchant was, however, in a measure comforting. He admitted that
prices were improving, stated approximate figures which almost surprised
me, and volunteered the information that when my crop should be gathered
he would be glad to make me an offer. Although prospects were good in
Western Canada, cereals were scarce everywhere else; and I returned so
involved in mental calculations that I walked into several citizens, one
of whom swore fluently. He wore toothpick-pointed shoes, and in my
abstraction I had, it seemed, trodden cruelly on his toes.

Boone came up while I attempted to apologize, and tapped me on the
shoulder. "What do you think of this amusement, Ormesby? It seems to
have had the effect of dazing you," he said. "You were walking right
past the hotel as though your eyes were shut."

"To be candid, I think very little of it," I said. "Still, I was
puzzling over a slightly complicated sum to ascertain how much--counting
every remaining beast, salable implement, and load of grain--would, when
I have paid off Lane, remain my own."

"Planning your campaign for next year?" asked Boone, with a trace of
dryness.

"No," I answered. "It will not be a great deal, but I'm open to stake
the last cent on beating Lane."

"Good man!" said Boone. "We are going to beat him; and, to show that I
am prepared to back my convictions, I may say that I have already
hypothecated every pennyworth of my English property."

Haldane was waiting for us when we came in. "Our men have had a busy
afternoon. All the shares they offered were bought up, and there is no
sign of any weakness yet," he said.

We formed a somewhat silent company during the earlier portion of the
evening. Haldane sat busy, pencil in hand, and finally passed a page of
his notebook across to us. "I don't quite know who is backing Lane, but
his purse is a tolerably long one," he said. "You see, we must produce
shares, or the difference between their value at that time and the price
we sold at, to this extent on settling day, Ormesby."

"Of which nobody would apparently sell us one," I answered ruefully.

Haldane nodded. "You mean, of course, to-day. A good many people may be
willing to do so before this hour to-morrow--if not it will be time then
to consider seriously. Meanwhile, the best we can do is to seek innocent
relaxation, and I see that Miss Redmond is singing at the opera house."

I was hardly in the mood to enjoy a concert, though I was curious to
hear Redmond's daughter; but inaction had grown almost insufferable and
when we took our places in the crowded building I felt glad that I had
come. The sight of the close-packed multitude and the hum of many voices
helped to hold in check my nervous restlessness. Nevertheless, though a
lover of music, I scarcely heard a word of the first three songs, and
only became intent when a clapping of hands rolled round the building as
a dark-haired girl stood forward in the glare of the footlights. It was
evidently she who had drawn the perspiring crowd together, and that
alone was an eloquent testimonial, considering the temperature.

Ailin Redmond was very plainly dressed, and she smiled her
acknowledgments with a simplicity that evidently pleased the audience,
while perhaps in compliment to them she wore as sole adornment a few
green maple leaves. Then I settled myself to listen, and continued
almost spell-bound to the end of the song, wondering where the girl I
had seen herding cattle barefooted not very long ago had acquired such
power. She was not, from a technical view, perhaps, a finished singer;
but Western audiences can feel, if, for the most part, they cannot
criticise; and I think she drove the full meaning of the old Irish
ballad home to the hearts of all of them. A wailing undertone rang
through it, and the effect of the whole was best expressed as uncanny.
It was no doubt the strangeness of her themes, and the contrast she
presented to her stereotyped rivals, which had led to the girl's
success.

In any case the applause was vociferous, and continued until the singer
returned and stood still, with hands lightly clasped, looking, not at
the expectant audience, but directly at us. There was a curious
expression in her eyes, which were fixed steadily on myself and Haldane
beside me. Then I gained understanding as she commenced to sing, for
there was no mistaking the fact that she meant the song for us. It was a
clever resetting of such an old-world ballad as I think no Anglo-Saxon
could have written; its burden was a mourning over ancient wrongs and
hunger for revenge; but the slender, dark-haired girl held the power to
infuse her spirit into me. My lips and hands closed tight as I saw, what
I think she wished me to, Helen Boone dying in a sod hovel, and the
wagon that bore the dead man rolling through murky blackness across the
prairie.

Then I shook all misgivings from me, feeling that though every acre and
bushel of grain must go, and we failed, they would be well spent in an
attempt to pull down the man who had brought about such things. That
others might suffer with him counted little then. They had clutched at
their dividends--dividends wrung by him out of the agony of poor men;
and their ignorance, which was scarcely possible, did not free them from
responsibility.

There was dead stillness for several seconds between the accompanist's
final chord and the tumultuous applause which the slightly puzzled
audience accorded, while, when it died away, I saw that Boone's forehead
was beaded and his lips slightly quivering. Even Haldane appeared less
than usually at ease.

"Miss Redmond is a young lady of uncommon and even uncomfortable gifts,"
he said. "Women, as you will discover some day, Ormesby, are responsible
for most of the mischief that goes on, as well as a large amount of
good. For instance, it was the encouragement of one of them which helped
to start me on this campaign, and now, when slightly doubtful respecting
the wisdom of the step, another must sing eerie songs to me with a
purpose. I think we will walk round and call on her."

We did so, and Redmond's daughter did not keep us waiting long. She
sailed down a broad stairway and stood smiling under the glaring lamps,
very slight and slim and graceful, so that it seemed fitting Haldane
should bend over the hand she gave him.

"There is no need for my poor compliments after the verdict of the
multitude; but did you sing that song to us?" he said.

"Yes," said the girl quietly, while the smile sank out of her eyes. "We
have a good many friends and hear much gossip, so I knew at once who was
directing the attack on Lane's company. As to the song--I had some
slight education down East, you know--its choice was not without a
meaning. You will remember how, on the eve of battle, Shakespeare's
ghosts prophesied to one man ruin and to another victory?"

"Yes," said Haldane, looking puzzled, "I think I do."

"Then"--and Ailin Redmond seemed to shiver a little--"do you think there
are no ghosts on the prairie?"

"I have not met any of them," said Haldane; and the girl answered with
infectious gravity: "That does not prove there are none; and, even if
you call it a childish fancy, I felt as I sang that they will bring you
victory to-morrow."

"You are far too clever and pretty to fill your head with such fancies,
my dear," said Haldane. And when we went out into the open he repeated,
with a shrug of his shoulders: "In spite of her talents, that is a most
uncomfortable young woman; but heaven send her prophecy comes true."

Again I passed a restless night, but our agent procured us admission
into the inner precincts of the exchange on the morrow, and as I
listened to the eager shouting and watched the excited groups surge
about the salesmen, I began to comprehend the fascination that
speculation wields over its votaries. Our little spectacled broker,
however, held my eye as he flitted to and fro, and now and then with a
strident cry gathered a mob of gesticulating men about him. Somebody
accepted his offers on each occasion, and he approached us with an
almost dismayed expression when the market closed at noon.

"You are an old hand at this business, sir, but I feel it's my duty to
warn you that things don't look well," he said. "Your friends of the
opposition are evidently able to stand considerable hammering. The sum
you mentioned would be no use now to pull us straight; and unless
there's a break pretty soon they'll squeeze you like a screw vice on
settling day. It would be hard to figure the price they'll make you
pay."

"You don't suppose I haven't foreseen such a contingency," said Haldane.
"The break will probably come this afternoon--if not, to-morrow. Tell
your allies to sell further small lots down at a moderate reduction."

Our lunch was, as the others had been, luxurious; but my throat was dry,
and I could not eat. Boone's appetite had also failed, and I may have
guessed aright at part of his story when I saw him, after thrice
emptying his glass, glance still thirstily at the wine, and then thrust
the decanter away.

"It is time to consider," said Haldane. "Unless somebody is soon scared
into selling, Lane's company will be able to fleece us horribly on
settling day; but experience of such affairs teaches me that sooner or
later the smaller holders must break under a persistent hammering. Now,
I don't mind admitting that I did not anticipate such an obstinate
defense; and the cause of my interference is mainly this: I had promised
to take my younger daughter on a trip to Europe, but am not overfond of
traveling, and Lucille is tolerably contented with her own country; so
when she first suggested and then insisted that I should make a campaign
fund of what it would cost I was not wholly sorry to agree, and figured
that, with careful handling, the money might be sufficient to scare Lane
into making some rash move. At present it seems that I was mistaken, and
that before we break him I must throw Bonaventure into the scale. You
may save your protests, gentlemen; I'm a born speculator, and my
daughter has set her heart on this thing. If she hadn't, I'd have a very
great reluctance to being beaten by a single-horse-power company."

"Every acre of Crane Valley I can find a buyer for goes in, too," I
said; and Boone added quietly: "You have my last dollar, sir, already."

Nothing of moment happened until next day, but it appeared to me that
there was an almost insupportable tension in the very atmosphere. Our
chief broker was clearly excited, and his tone significant, when he
called to inform us that, while no other sellers had followed his
challenge, only very small parcels of the stock he offered were being
taken up; and so the matter stood until the afternoon.

I was now anxious as well as determined. It did not require much
knowledge of such affairs for me to realize that unless other persons
flung their shares on the market we should be left absolutely at the
mercy of the men who had the stock to sell; and while I had nerved
myself to part with everything, it would be inexpressibly galling to
strip myself to enable Lane to reap a handsome profit. Neither do I
think it was mere lust of revenge that impelled me. The man was a menace
to the prosperity of every struggling rancher, and had shown no mercy;
while--setting aside the fact that he himself deserved none--it seemed
that my neighbors' right to existence depended on our efforts to
overthrow him. Haldane appeared unusually serious when I glanced at him.

"If nothing happens in an hour we shall have to hold a council as to how
we may cut our losses," he said.

Half an hour passed very slowly, and then, warned by a message, we
strolled into the market to find there was comparative silence in the
long echoing room, as those who congregated there grew languid and
drowsy under the heat of the afternoon. Its atmosphere seemed
suffocating, and before I had been present long the suspense reacted
upon me physically, for my throat resembled a lime-kiln and the
superficial arteries of my forehead throbbed painfully. Boone, at
intervals, moistened his dry lips with his tongue, and Haldane alone
leaned calmly against a pillar jotting down figures in the notebook he
held.

Then a few listless men gathered round a broker, and suddenly became
intent, while a murmur of interest rose through the drowsy heat. The
voices grew louder, the group swelled, and I started at the call: "Any
more of you with Territories to sell?"

"It must be Lane's last throw," said Haldane quietly. "Ah! The tide is
turning. There is somebody who doesn't belong to us making a deal with
him."

The bystanders surged to and fro about the speakers in a manner that
reminded me of corraled cattle; others hurried towards them, and our
broker's voice rang out: "I'll trade with you at two dollars better."

Then there was a confused shouting, "I'll beat him by another! Two more
dollars down!" and every unoccupied man in the room joined the crowd,
out of which rose indistinguishable offers, comments, questions, and
counter-offers. These swelled into a deafening clamor, but through them
all I could hear or feel the hurried beating of my heart, and my voice
sounded hollow as I touched Haldane's arm. "Tell me the meaning of it,"
I said.

"We have beaten them," said Haldane quietly. "There are other men
hurrying to sell. The weak holders have broken at last, and, because a
panic is infectious, most of the others will follow them. Ah! It is
beginning. There go the telegrams, and I hear both telephone bells. The
fun will commence in earnest when the answers come in; and, meanwhile, a
breath of fresher air would brace one. You may have noticed that it's a
trifle choky inside here."

I had, but my feet seemed glued to the floor and my eyes on the swaying
crowd, so that it cost me an effort to tear them free and follow Boone
and Haldane into the open air. He presently led us into the grateful
coolness of a big basement saloon, and, scarcely drawing breath, I
emptied the contents of a tumbler filled with iced liquid, and then I
looked at Boone, who had pushed aside the glass set before him and
reached for the ice bowl.

"I have bought my experience, Ormesby," he said, with a smile which once
more flashed a sidelight on his history. "In times like these it is
better to confine one's self to nature's distillery. A cigar? No, thank
you, sir. Do you feel like smoking, Ormesby?"

I did not, for, in spite of the cool beverage, the bite of tobacco would
have been insufferable then; but Haldane lay back in a big lounge
chewing a cigar. He said nothing whatever, and though he appeared
satisfied, the lines on his forehead had deepened and his face appeared
older. In spite of my impatience we must have remained nearly an hour
before our leader rose a little stiffly and proceeded with unusual
slowness towards the scene of the conflict. It was raging fiercely. Some
of the speculators howled like wild beasts; others wrestled with their
fellows to reach the clear space in the center of the ring; and,
standing on the plinth of a column, I could see gesticulating men hard
at work with their notebooks. How they were able to record any bargain
or to comprehend any offer amid that pandemonium was more than I could
discover; for everybody interested appeared to be shouting at once, and
the rest of the assembly cheering them on. One irate individual, indeed,
dragged a neighbor backwards by the collar, and then plunged blindly
into the midst of the circle when the other, retaliating, drove his hat
down over his eyes.

Haldane listened keenly for several minutes, and then turned to me.
"It's going our way, Ormesby. Holders are getting out as fast as they
can, and various speculative gentlemen who have been waiting for the
first sign of weakness are hammering them. We have done our part, and
can safely leave the rest to them. See if you can give our broker this
note for me, and then, if you have had sufficient excitement, we will
take a drive somewhere until dinner's ready."

I had certainly had sufficient excitement in that form to last the rest
of my life, and I managed to reach the broker without personal injury,
after which we solaced ourselves with a drive through the city and
across some very uninteresting prairie. I saw little of either, and was
conscious of scarcely anything beyond the all-important fact that Lane's
power was broken, and henceforward my neighbors would enjoy the fruits
of their own labor instead of swelling heavy dividends with
three-fourths of them.

When we returned to the hotel our agent, who appeared in an exultant
mood, was waiting us, and he positively beamed upon Haldane as he said:
"It's an honor to work for a man with your nerve and judgment, sir, and
we have whipped the last grit out of them. I let up altogether when I
saw every outside 'bear' come ramping in; and, if you're inclined that
way, we might cover a little quietly without stiffening prices."

I do not know what Haldane's instructions were. Indeed, the reaction of
relief prevented my remembering anything at all very clearly, except
that, as we sat at dinner, Haldane said: "I shouldn't wonder if those
physicians were right, and I think I have made my last stake this
afternoon. I dare say you understand, Ormesby, that as we could now
purchase the stock below the price at which we sold there will be a
profit in the transaction. Individually, I did not undertake this matter
as a speculation."

Haldane made light of our anxiety lest he should have suffered. "I have
long known I should have to sink into idleness, and it was a good piece
of work to retire on," he said. "But what about the profit?"

I had no hesitation about the answer. "It was no desire of profit that
brought me here; and as one experience of the kind is sufficient, I
intend henceforward to stick to my horses and cattle. I will not touch a
dollar of the money beyond actual expenses, and would propose that,
setting aside any portion necessary to secure us against reprisals and
to complete our work, the rest should be handed to Miss Haldane to
distribute as she thinks best in charity."

Boone expressed his full compliance, and Haldane smiled at me. "Do you
think you can run up a contra account in that way, Ormesby?"

"I believe we are justified; but, justified or not, I will not touch a
dollar of the gains," I said. "I am going back to the prairie to-morrow,
to express our deepest gratitude to Miss Haldane. As to yourself, sir, a
good many hard-pressed men will never forget you."

Then Boone rose up gravely with a wine-glass in his hand. "The task is
too big for Ormesby, or any other man," he said. "May every good thing
follow the Mistress of Bonaventure."




CHAPTER XXVII

ILLUMINATION


The binders were clanking through the wheat when I next met Haldane at
Crane Valley. Having embarked upon his new career with characteristic
energy, he rode over from Bonaventure with his daughter to watch our
harvesting, and incidentally came near bewildering me with his
questions. Some of them were hard to answer, and I felt a trace of
irritation, as well as surprise, that a few hours' observation should
enable him to hit upon the best means of overcoming difficulties which
had cost me months of experimenting to discover.

Thorn, I remember, stared at him in wonder, and afterwards observed:
"You and I have just got to keep on trying until we find out the best
way of fixing things, and if our way's certain, it's often expensive.
That man just chews on his cigar, and it comes to him. When I take up my
located land and get worried about the money, I'm going to try
cigar-smoking."

"You will have considerably less of it if you experiment with the brand
that Haldane keeps," I answered, jerking the lines, and my binder rolled
on again behind the weary team. When each minute was worth a silver
coin, we dare not spare the beasts, and I had worn out four of them in
as many days, and then sat almost nodding in the driving seat, with a
deep sense of satisfaction in my heart which I was too tired to express.

Oat sheaves ridging the bleached prairie blazed in yellow ranks before
my heavy eyes, and each heave of the binder's arms flung out behind me a
truss of golden wheat. The glare was blinding, for we worked under the
full heat of a scorching afternoon, as we had done, and would do, by the
pale light of the moon. Thick dust rolled about us, clogging my lashes
and fouling the coats of the beasts, while the crackle of the flinty
stems, the rasp of shearing knives, the rhythm of trampling hoofs, and
the clink of metal throbbing harmoniously through the drowsy heat, were
flung back by other machines at work across the grain. There is,
however, a limit to human powers, and I must have been driving
mechanically, and nearly asleep, when a clicking warned me that it was
time to fit another spool of twine. I remember that during the operation
I envied the endurance of the soulless, but otherwise almost human,
machine.

Steel came up with his binder before it was completed, a creak and thud
and tinkle swelling in musical crescendo as the jaded team loomed nearer
through the dust. There was a flash of varnished wood that rose and
fell, and twinkling metal, and I saw the driver sitting stiffly with
hands, that were almost blackened, clenched on the lines, peering
straight before him out of half-closed eyes, while the moisture that ran
from his forehead washed copper-tinted channels through the grime. It
was by an effort he held himself to his task; but that was nothing
unusual, for the prairie does not yield up her riches lightly, and by
the golden wake he left behind him the effort was justified. The earth
had been fruitful that season, and harvest had not failed; while, having
sown in deep dejection, uncertain who would reap, it was a small thing
to strain one's strength to the utmost to gather the bounteous yield. We
were already free, and every revolution of the binder's arms set us so
much farther on the road to prosperity.

Twice I jerked the lines, but the team stood still; and I was preparing
to encourage them more vigorously, when Haldane and his daughter
approached. Both had insisted on my leaving them to their own devices,
and now Lucille appeared to regard the beasts and myself
compassionately.

"They look very tired, and they have done so much," she said, glancing
down the long rows of piled-up grain. "Is not that sufficient to justify
your resting a little?"

"I am afraid not," I answered with a somewhat rueful smile. "You see,
prosperity has made us greedy, while all the grain cut up to the present
belongs to Lane."

The girl looked indignant--Haldane thoughtful. "I have been wondering
whether you would feel inclined to contest his claim for the balance of
the debt," he said. "Considering that he has taken from you twice the
value of his loan, and the story in Miss Redmond's book, you might be
ethically and legally justified."

"No," I said. "I made the bargain, and I intend to keep my part of it.
That accomplished, I shall have the fewer scruples about using every
effort to utterly crush the man. All we cut henceforward is my own, and
I can only repeat that I should be glad to devote every bushel to help
forward his defeat."

"I think you are right," said Lucille Haldane, with a trace of pride in
her approval, though her eyes were mischievous as she continued: "It is,
however, unfortunate you are so very busy, because, as father is riding,
and as the team are a little wild, we hoped you would drive them home
for me."

I climbed down from the iron saddle, shouting to Steel, and Lucille
smiled demurely. "We could not tear you away from that machine when you
would grudge every minute," she said. "Remember that Bonaventure is a
long way off, and, even if we allowed it, you could hardly return before
to-morrow."

I nevertheless fancied she was pleased at my eagerness, and, for Haldane
had passed on, I felt suddenly oppressed by the recognition of what I
owed her. Yet had it been possible I should not have lightened the debt.
I looked down at her gravely, noticing how young and fresh and slender
she seemed--bright as the blaze of sunshine in which she stood--and then
I pointed towards the long ranks of sheaves and the sea of stately ears.

"I am not in the least inconsistent, and should not be if every moment
were thrice as precious," I said. "I remember most plainly that you gave
me all this. Strange as it may seem, it is, nevertheless, perfectly
true."

The girl blushed prettily, and then glanced from me towards the tired
horses and the standing machine, after which her eyes rested with
approval on the stalwart form of Thorn, who came up urging on his
plodding team.

"It would be something to be proud of, if one could believe you,
Rancher; but I am not wholly pleased with the last part of the speech,"
she said, with a faint, half-mocking inclination of the head. "I can
guess what you are thinking, and you are a trifle slow to learn. Women
are very well in their own place, are they not? However, you find it
perplexing when they will not stay there, but, because some of them grow
tired of breathing incense, they descend and interfere in masculine
affairs. It is truly strange that there should be more forces in the
world than those centered in big dusty men and splendid horses!"

"You must be a witch; but I am learning by degrees," I said. And the
girl laughed merrily.

"You have not progressed very far, to judge by the comparison. Witches
were usually pictured as malevolent, old, and ugly."

"I meant a beneficent fairy; but the surprise was not quite unnatural,"
I said. "Who could suspect in such a slender and fragile person the
power she possesses to banish gloom and poverty? Legions of men and
horses could not accomplish so much."

"Now you go too far in the opposite direction," and my companion shook
her head. "It is the sense of balance you need."

The sun-blaze turned the clustered hair under her wide hat into the
likeness of burnished gold--the gold of our own Northwest, with a
coppery warmth in it--but the light in her hazel eyes eclipsed its
brilliancy. The lithe figure fitted its gorgeous background of yellow
radiancy, and again I felt all my pulses quicken as I paid Haldane's
daughter silent homage. Magnificent as the wheat, alike to eye and
understanding, when one remembered its mission, her presence seemed the
crown and complement of all that splendid field. It was hard to refrain
from telling her so, and possibly my voice was not pitched quite in its
normal key when I said: "It is short of the truth, but there is just one
thing I should like to know, and that is whether any other motive than
pure benevolence prompted you."

"Why?"

Then I answered boldly: "Because it would be worth the rest to fancy
that in some small measure it was due to individual goodwill towards
Rancher Ormesby."

The girl looked away from me across the grain, and, as she turned her
head, it was with a thrill of pleasure, which may not have been wholly
artistic, that I noticed the polished whiteness of her neck and a
dainty, pink-tinted little ear that peeped out from the clusters of her
hair. Then she laughed, perhaps at Thorn, who argued quaintly, if
forcibly, with his reluctant beasts, and turned to me.

"If you desire another motive, you may conclude, as you heard before,
that it was love of justice; which really ought to satisfy you."

"It is a creditable one," I answered. "But I fear that it does not."

We left Crane Valley shortly, Haldane on horseback, his
daughter--because something had gone wrong with the Bonaventure
vehicle--beside me in our light wagon, which, if it in no way resembled
the cumbrous contrivance bearing that name in England, was, I was
uneasily conscious, by no means overclean. On the way we met the
threshers, and stronger teams hauling the machines towards Crane Valley,
for our threshing is done mostly in the field. We stopped to bid them
hurry, and Haldane, learning they had met Gordon, whom he desired to
see, bade us proceed while he looked for the rancher. I was not sorry to
do so, and accordingly it was without him that we approached the dip to
the Sweetwater hollow.

The afternoon was waning, and the air very still. The tiny birch leaves
had ceased their whispering; but the sound of running water came
musically out of their cool shadow. All the winding valley was rolled in
green, an oasis of verdure in the sweep of white-bleached prairie; and,
pulling the team up between the first of the slender trunks, I pointed
down towards the half-seen lane of sliding water.

"I might never have known you if it had not been for a trifling accident
by yonder willow clump," I said. "I remember your sister suggested that
very night that our meeting might be the first scene of a drama, and,
considering all that has happened since then, her prediction has proved
strangely accurate."

Lucille Haldane nodded. "It is a coincidence that I was thinking of the
same thing, and wondering, now that the play must be drawing towards its
close, what the end will be. The meeting must, however, have been
unlucky for you, because all your troubles date from that beginning."

"And my privileges," I answered, smiling. "The present is at least a
happy augury. When I met Boone beside the river there was not a leaf on
the birches, and their branches were moaning under a blast which makes
one shiver from mere recollection. Remember the harvest at Crane Valley,
and look down on yonder shining water and cool greenery. It was you who
brought us the sunshine, and even the memory of the dark days is now
melting like that night's snow."

"That is exaggerated sentiment, and I have heard invertebrate youths in
the cities say such things more neatly," commented the girl, with an air
of mock severity, and then glanced dreamily into the hollow; while, as
silence succeeded, fate sent a little sting-fly to take a part--as, to
confound man's contriving, trifles often do--in ending the play. The
team were ill-broken broncos which had already given me trouble, and
when the fly bored with envenomed proboscis through the hide of one, the
beast flung up his head and kicked savagely.

The reins which I held loosely were whisked away, and before it was
possible to recover them both horses had bolted. The light wagon lurched
giddily, and the next moment it swept like a toboggan down the
declivity.

"Hold fast!" I shouted, leaning recklessly down; and the first shock of
enervating consternation vanished when I gripped the reins. Still, there
was cold fear at my heart when, bracing both feet against the
wagon-front, I strove uselessly to master the team. The brutes' mouths
seemed made of iron, impervious to the bit; the slope was long and
steep; birches and willows straggled athwart it everywhere; and the soil
was treacherous. I could not break them from the gallop, and not daring
to risk the sharp bends of the zigzag trail, I let them go straight for
the slide of water in the bottom of the hollow.

It was not the first time I had been run away with. A fall from a
stumbling horse or a wagon upset is a very common and, considering the
half-tamed beasts we use, by no means surprising accident in our
country; but at first it was only by a fierce effort I shook off an
almost overmastering terror as I contemplated the danger to my
companion. I hazarded one glance at her and saw that her face was white
and set, then dare look at nothing but the reeling trees ahead. I
strained every sinew to swing the team clear of them. Sometimes the
beasts responded, sometimes they did not, and it was by a miracle the
trunks went by. The wagon bounced more wildly, the slope grew steeper,
and even if I could have checked the team this would only have
precipitated a catastrophe. So, helpless, I clung to the reins until the
end came suddenly.

Several birches barred our way; the brutes would swerve neither to right
nor to left; and with a hoarse shout of warning I strove desperately to
hold them straight for the one passage, wondering whether there was room
enough in the narrow gap between the trunks. It was immediately evident
that there was not. Simultaneously with a heavy shock, the wagon
appeared to dissolve beneath me and I was hurled bodily into the air.
Fortunately I alighted upon soft ground, headforemost, and perhaps, for
that reason, escaped serious injury. It is possible that, in different
circumstances, I might have lain still partly stupefied, or spent some
time in ascertaining whether any bones had broken; but, as it was, I
sprang to the overturned wagon, breathless with fear.

Lucille Haldane lay, mercifully, just clear of it, a pitiful white
figure, and my heart stood still as I bent over her. She was pale and
limp as a crushed lily, and as beautiful; and it was with awe I dropped
on one knee beside her. There was no sign of any breathing, coldness
seemed to emanate from her waxlike skin, and though I had seen many
accidents, I dare scarcely venture to lay a finger on the slackly
throbbing artery in her wrist. Then I groaned aloud, borne down with an
overwhelming grief, for with the suddenness of a lightning flash I knew
the words spoken but such a little while ago had been more than true. It
was she who had brought all the sunshine and sweetness into my life.
Reason and power of action returned with the knowledge, and I started
for the river at a breathless run, smashing savagely through every
cluster of dwarf willows which barred my way, filled my hat with the
cold water, and, returning, dashed it on her face. The action appeared
brutal, but terror was stronger than any sentimental fancies then, and I
dare neglect no chance with that precious life at stake.

The slender form moved a little, and it was with relief unspeakable I
heard a fluttering sigh; then I raised the wet head upon my knee, and
fell to chafing the cold hands vigorously. The time may have been five
minutes, or less, but I had never spent such long days in my life as
those seconds while I waited, quivering in every limb, for some further
sign of returning animation. It was very still in the hollow, and the
song of the hurrying water maddened me. Its monotonous cadence might
drown the faint breathing for which I listened with such intensity. Even
in that space of agony two other incidents flashed through my memory,
and I understood my fear during the dark voyage, and on the moonlit
night when the cars lurched across the bridge. Life would be very empty
if the breath died out of that tender, shaken body.

The suspense was mercifully ended. Lucille Haldane half opened her eyes,
and looked up at me without recognition, closed them, and caught at her
breath audibly, while I held her hands fast in a restraining grasp.
Then, as she looked up again, the blood came back, mantling the clear
skin, and she said, brokenly: "I fell out of the wagon, did I not? How
long have I been here?--and my head is wet. I--I must get up."

I still held one hand fast; but, stooping, slipped one arm beneath her
shoulder and raised her a little. "You must wait another few moments
first."

The girl appeared reluctant, but made no resistance, and when finally I
raised her to her feet I found it was necessary to lean against a birch
trunk to hide the fit of trembling that seized me.

"I am not much hurt," she said; and my voice broke as I interjected:
"Thank God for it!"

I fancied that Lucille Haldane, shaken as she was, flashed a swift
sidelong glance at me, and that the returning color did not diminish in
her cheek; then she said hurriedly: "Yes, I am not hurt, but I see the
horses yonder, and you had better make sure of them. We are still some
distance from home."

I turned without further speech, and found the vicious brutes, which had
broken the wagon-pole, held fast by the tangled gear which had fouled a
fallen tree. It was almost with satisfaction I saw the bolter had lamed
himself badly. There was a change in Lucille Haldane when I led them
back. She had recovered her faculties, but not her old frank
friendliness, and said, almost sharply: "The wagon is useless. What do
you propose to do?"

"To fold up the rug in the box and make some kind of saddle for you," I
said, and proceeded to do so, cutting up the gear, which was almost new,
so recklessly that my companion seemed even then surprised.

"Do you know that you are destroying a good many dollars' worth of
harness?" she asked.

"It would not greatly matter if I spoiled a dozen sets so long as you
reached home safely, and it is a very small fine for my carelessness," I
answered. "I should never have forgiven myself if you had been injured;
but are you--quite--sure that you are none the worse?"

"I do not think I am much the better," said the girl. "Still, I am not
badly hurt, and it was not your fault."

Though still languid in her movements, she seemed chary of accepting
much assistance when I helped her into the improvised saddle, and then,
because the other horse was useless, I waded through the ford with my
hand on the bridle. It was some distance to Bonaventure, and my
companion was not communicative, but I did not find the silence irksome.
Conflicting emotions would have made me slow of speech, and I was
content with the fact that she rode beside me whole in limb and
unspoiled in beauty. Indeed, so much had the sight of her lying white
and apparently lifeless impressed me that I cast many apprehensive
glances in her direction before I could convince myself that all was
well.

Haldane, who overtook us, desired me to remain at Bonaventure; but every
pair of hands was needed at Crane Valley, and I wished for solitude. So,
stiffly mounting a borrowed horse, I set off homeward across the
prairie. I had risen at three that morning, after an insufficient rest,
and was worn out in body, but clear in mind, for a time, at least, while
the brilliancy of the starshine and the silence of the waste helped me
to think. I was by turns thankful, ashamed, dejected, and eager to
clutch at an elusive hope. Illumination had followed disillusion, and I
knew at last that even while I was uplifted by vain imaginings, Lucille
Haldane had, little by little, and unwittingly, extended her dominion
over my heart. I had, it seemed, spent the best years of my life
striving after an unattainable and shadowy ideal, while perhaps the real
living substance, endowed with the best of all pertaining to flesh and
blood, lay within my grasp. It was true that the mistress of Bonaventure
was much too good for me; but with all her graces she was of like fiber
to us, and her few weaknesses rendered her more desirable in proof of
the fact. That Beatrice Haldane was worthy of all adulation remained
equally true; but it was hard to comprehend how, blinded by folly, I had
mistaken the respect I paid her for the warm tide of passion which now
pulsed through me. Neither was the latter of sudden origin, for, looking
back, I could see how, little by little, and imperceptibly, admiration,
gratitude, and tenderness, had merged into it until terror opened my
eyes and full understanding came at last.

There remained, however, one burning question--did Lucille Haldane, in
any degree, reciprocate what I felt?--and this lacked an answer. Knowing
her generous nature, it was clear that what she had done for me had not
been done wittingly for a lover; but, on the other hand, I could recall
many trifles which may have had their significance. Thus alternate hopes
and fears surged through my brain until, when I had decided that, being
yet a poor man, I must wait the advent of the railroad, at least, before
putting my fate to the test, my thoughts commenced to wander, and I must
have guided the horse mechanically, for his sudden stopping roused me
with a jerk to recognize the corral at Crane Valley. There is a limit
beyond which no emotion may galvanize into continued activity the
exhausted body, and we not infrequently reach it on the prairie. I do
not know whether I was asleep or awake when I led the beast into the
stable, but the sun was high when Sally Steel roused me from a couch of
trampled hay unpleasantly near his feet.

"You have had a tolerable sleep, and don't seem particular where you
camp," she said. "Come right along, and do your best with the second
breakfast I've got waiting."

I glanced with consternation at my watch. "Why didn't one of the others
waken me? Do you know it's ten o'clock, Sally?" I asked.

"Just because I wouldn't let them! You've got to last through harvest,
anyway, and I guess Miss Haldane wouldn't have much use for a dead
man," said Sally, and was retiring with mischievous laughter, when I
recalled her.

"You have been too good a friend to me to make such jokes again," I
said.

"I'm not the only one. All the folks are talking," said the girl.

Thereupon I answered grimly: "If I hear any of them amusing themselves
in that fashion I shall do my best to choke them."




CHAPTER XXVIII

THE ENEMY CAPITULATES


Some time had elapsed since the overturning of the wagon, and I had seen
nothing of Lucille Haldane, when, one evening, I visited Bonaventure at
her father's request. All had gone well in the interval. The last bushel
of grain had been threshed and sold, and the balance of my debt to Lane,
with every surcharge his ingenuity could invent, wiped out. Haldane, who
remained some time in Winnipeg with Boone, had also concluded operations
successfully, for, as he had foreseen, once the turning point was passed
he had no lack of allies eager to assist in plundering the vanquished,
and, before these had satisfied their rapacity he had been able to
unobtrusively cover most of our sales without advancing prices. Boone
explained that the new assailants considered the purchases a last effort
on the part of the company's supporters. Also--because there is little
mercy for the beaten--impoverished storekeeper and plundered farmer
commenced to air their grievances, and it became evident that the
company, or those whom it financed, had occasionally exceeded the limits
of the law.

It was accordingly to a meeting of what Haldane called the Vehmgericht
that I was summoned, and on arriving at Bonaventure I found Gordon and
several of our neighbors already there. The day had been sunny, but our
autumn nights are sharp, with a sting of frost in the air, which made
the crackling fire in the open hearth acceptable. A shaded silver lamp
flung a soft light about the room, which in no way suggested that it was
to be used for a tribunal. There were decanters, cigar boxes, and
British Columbian fruit on the table, while Haldane lounged in a velvet
chair, with feet, neatly encased in patent leather, stretched out
towards the fire. All this seemed inappropriate to the occasion, even
though I had grown used to Haldane's way.

A glance at the others, however, showed that they were in deadly
earnest. The men were lean and hard and grim, and their weather-darkened
faces bore the stamp of the conflict. Some of them had long overworked
brain and body, half-fed, that Lane and those who backed him might reap
an iniquitous profit. Others had seen wife and daughter toiling in the
dust of the harrows or riding weary leagues behind the herds, and had
not forgotten. I noticed they accepted Haldane's offers of wine and
tobacco dubiously, and I surmised it was only personal respect for him
that prevented disapproving comments on this manner of procedure.

Boone doubtless guessed their thoughts, for he said whimsically: "I see
no reason why you shouldn't have a good time, boys. There are easier
ways of killing a coyote than beating his head in with the butt of a
gun, and I can assure you that we mean solid business. For one, I find
these cigars better than the tin flag plug."

"Tin flag!" and a man with wrinkles round his eyes laughed harshly.
"Dried willow bark had to do for us. This kind of thing takes time to
get used to after living for 'most two years on damaged flour and
molasses. Maybe you're used to luxuries, and don't know what it is to
see the wife fall sick when one couldn't raise a decent morsel to feed
her."

Boone's face grew as stern as that of the speaker, and the shadow I knew
crept into his eyes. "I think I do. My wife died for want of comforts
that Lane might twice collect his debt, and I am not likely to forget it
to-night," he said.

A silence followed, and through it I heard one or two of the others draw
a deep breath, while their faces hardened as they, too, remembered
grievous injuries. For my own part I was grimly expectant, for I had
suffered long enough, and had sufficient sense to know that it was not
often that struggling men had such an opportunity for dictating terms
to a powerful adversary. We were all, I think, democratic in the word's
most liberal sense, cherishing no grievance against the rich, and quick
to recognize advantages offered us by capitalists' legitimate
enterprise; but, now that the balance had swung to our side, we were
equally determined to place further mischief beyond the power of the man
who, for the sake of a few dollars, would have crushed us out of
existence. It appeared a duty to the community; but I had not studied
human nature sufficiently to discover exactly how far that motive
influenced me.

"If none of you have any further suggestions to make, I want to ask if
you are willing to leave this affair to me," said Haldane presently.
"Lane in his own way is a smart man, and would be quick to seize an
advantage which anybody, speaking without consideration, might give him.
I offer my services merely because, during an extensive business
experience, I have had to deal with such men before."

"There is nobody in the Dominion better able to handle this case for
us," said Boone; and the others nodded assent.

"We'll sit quieter than graven images unless he turns vicious, if you'll
draw his sting," said one. "That's no use, anyway," a comrade
interjected. "The insect would grow another one. What we want is his
blame back broken."

"I will, metaphorically speaking, try to oblige you both," said Haldane,
with a smile. "He is a little weak in the spine already, or he would
have declined to meet us at all."

Nobody made any further comment, but the eyes of most of us were turned
expectantly upon the clock, until at last Gordon stood up when a rattle
of wheels drew nearer. "This is going to be a great night, boys," he
said. "The pernicious insect's come."

Lane entered, and nodded to us all comprehensively when he saw that
Haldane did not hold out his hand. The man's assurance was apparently
boundless, for he was at first sight as _débonnaire_ and almost as
genial as ever--almost, but not quite, for when he moved nearer the
lamp I noticed a shiftiness in his eyes and an occasional contraction at
the corners of his mouth.

"This is a little business meeting, and we appreciate your attendance;
but the former is no reason why you should not be comfortable," said
Haldane. "Sit down and help yourself to anything you take a fancy to. I
need not introduce any of these gentlemen."

Lane was not readily taken aback, for, while we afterwards had cause to
believe he had never discovered the movements of Boone, he looked at him
significantly, but without surprise. "I know--all--of them. With thanks,
I will," he said. "As to the visit, I am always ready to oblige my
clients; but as you know time means money, it remains to be seen on
whose bill I shall charge it."

I took the last sentence as a preliminary defiance, and fancied Haldane
did so, too; but he only laughed as he said: "I should not wonder if you
were not paid that bill."

Lane nodded, as though he understood that the swords were crossed; and
when he poured out a glass of wine the rest of us prepared to watch the
duel, with the comforting assurance that our champion was armed with the
better weapons, as well as with the justice of his quarrel. It was
characteristic of the enemy that he smiled indulgently when, as he
raised his glass to his lips, Steel and another man thrust their own
aside. The inference could not have been plainer.

"Suppose we come straight to business," said Haldane presently. "It may
save time if I recapitulate what is known of your position. If I am
wrong in details you can, of course, correct me."

"You can sail ahead," and Lane, stretching out his feet, leaned back in
his chair in an attitude of contemplative attention.

"To commence with, you hold a number of mortgages on land in this
vicinity, from which, after recouping yourself for the loan, you are
still drawing what I venture to call extortionate interest. These and
your shares in the Territories Investment--which cannot be sold--I
believe represent your assets. Also, after taking first-class legal
opinion, we find that, owing, shall I say, to indiscretions on your
part, it may be possible to prevent your foreclosing on several of those
mortgages, while one subordinate, I believe, refuses to be turned out of
Gaspard's Trail. On the other hand, you have certain tolerably extensive
liabilities I need not enumerate, and you want money badly. Law suits
are expensive, and you have a promising crop of them on hand. It was
with a view of obtaining it you suggested the issue of new Territories
stock, and, seeing that hang fire, unobtrusively endeavored to sell your
shares. I don't think the public would look at either just now. In
short, you have taken too big a mouthful; you can't hold on without
money, and you can't obtain that because, for some reason, respectable
banks fight shy of you. It will simplify matters if you admit all this."

"I'm not going to admit anything," Lane said sturdily, after drinking
another glass of wine.

Haldane smiled as he answered: "In that case we will take for granted
what I have said. Now, we have the money, time, and determination to
fight you over every mortgage, and to rake up, as a claim for damages,
every indiscretion."

One of the listeners chuckled in a manner expressive of surprise and
satisfaction when Haldane ceased, and through the brief stillness which
followed I could feel, if I could not see, that the others were in a
state of strung-up expectancy.

"Better come to the point," Lane said. "The question is, what do you
want from me?"

"It's pretty simple," was Haldane's answer. "We want you out of this
country. It's unfortunate that we can't help considering you an obstacle
in the way of its prosperity; but, not being highway robbers, we are
open to make you a fair offer for your property. Here is a schedule I
have drawn up, and you will see by examination that we purpose to buy
the mortgages at their face value, paying you any interest due at
current bank rates. We also purpose to buy back, on the same
conditions, the lands on which you have already foreclosed."

Lane was difficult to astonish, but now he actually gasped; and several
of those present, who were still within his clutches, sprang to their
feet. "A glacier wouldn't be cooler than you!" Lane said. "You must know
they're worth, or will be, about three times as much."

"Exactly," said Haldane; and Gordon and another chuckled silently. "That
is just why we want to see you safely out of this country. The man who
drives that kind of bargain gives nobody else a show. Please sit down,
gentlemen; I'll answer your questions later."

I think Lane, in spite of his refusal to admit anything, must have felt
himself driven into a corner. Indeed, for almost the first time during
my acquaintance with him he showed signs of temper, for his lips
straightened and there was a gleam of malice in his eyes.

"Your hand looks a good one, but it's not good enough," he said. "I'm
going to tell you to do your worst. Say, don't you count too much on Mr.
Haldane, the rest of you. If this is fun to him, it's bread and cheese
to me, and I don't let up on my living easily. Stand out from under
before he gets tired and the roof falls on you. You all know me."

The listeners had good reason to do so; but they had not only lost their
fear of him--the fear which makes a coward of a brave man when he
becomes a debtor--but had found his yoke so galling that they would have
risked the worst by defying him in spite of it. He must have read as
much in the contemptuous laugh and lowering faces.

"I think we could beat you with it; but we hold still better cards,"
said Haldane quietly. "For instance, you have squeezed Niven a little
too hard, and he is prepared to risk his liberty to testify on one or
two points against you. I refer to incidents connected with Gaspard's
Trail."

Lane brought his hand down on the table, and, for some unexplainable
reason, I actually believed him as he said: "Gaspard's Trail was burnt
by accident."

"We won't question the statement," said Haldane. "It was, at least, an
accident that you were quick to profit by. This ace, however, takes the
trick. Just run through this account book, and--remembering that we can
produce Miss Redmond, and three men, who will swear to what her father
said when Ormesby's cattle, which did not get there by accident, were
burned in the fence--consider what might be done with it."

Lane seemed to shake himself together after he had read the first few
entries; while, watching him closely, I once more saw the tell-tale
contraction at the corners of his mouth. This was the only sign he made,
however, save that presently he moved forward a little in his chair,
which was close before the fire, and held up the torn-out page as though
he wished the lamplight to fall on it more directly. The action, which
was made very naturally, suggested nothing to myself or even to Haldane;
but when the reader moved again, Boone rose suddenly and laid a
restraining hand on his arm.

"You have had time enough to grasp the significance of what is written
there, and I'll take the papers back," he said. "Of course, knowing whom
we dealt with, we have a duly attested copy."

I do not know whether Lane had actually intended to destroy part at
least of the dead man's testimony or not, but he was capable of
anything, and the fire was hot. In any case, he calmly handed book and
paper back to Boone with the careless comment: "You thought of that?
Must be considerably smarter than you used to be."

"Yes," said Boone dryly, "I have learned a good deal since I first met
you. We will now, with Mr. Haldane's concurrence, give you five, or, if
necessary, ten, minutes in which to consider your decision."

Without being in the least sorry for him, I fancied I could understand
Lane's feelings, and his state of mind could not have been enviable. It
is true that Haldane's offer allowed him a fair return for all sums
invested, perhaps almost as much as he would have obtained by
legitimate enterprise; but that must have been as nothing to the man who
had schemed for a fortune, while one could have fancied that he found it
inexpressibly galling to discover that those whom he had considered his
helpless dupes now held him at their mercy. Yet he showed small sign of
discomfiture, and his voice was steady as he said: "It's robbery; but
I'm open to admit you have fixed the thing tolerably neatly. Suppose it
was Dixon who gave you the pointers? This man here must have some grit,
for he knows that even now I could make it hot for him. Do you know who
he is?"

"I consider the terms are liberal, and we arranged the affair
ourselves," said Haldane. "You could hardly expect Mr. Dixon to involve
himself in what I'm afraid is virtually the compounding of a felony. It
is also possible that some people would call our proceedings by
unpleasant names, but you left us no choice of weapons. We might have
squeezed you further, but I believe it's wise to leave a back way open
for a beaten enemy. I am perfectly acquainted with Mr. Boone's history,
and understand that now that his work is finished--for most of the
scheme was his--he will surrender himself to the police. He does not,
however, apprehend any trouble with them, because by the time he
surrenders, the prosecutor will have removed himself across the
frontier. Now, hadn't you better consider your decision?"

Lane sat still for at least five minutes, and I could see that some of
the rest were not quite convinced that the battle was over. They had
experienced such a taste of his quality that they probably expected some
bold counter-move rather than submission. Nevertheless, the man was
beaten, for at last he said: "It's your game. I must have the money
down, and your solemn promise you'll make no use of what you know until
I'm across the frontier."

"If you will meet me at Gordon's at noon to-morrow we'll settle the bill
together," said Haldane quietly; and rose as if to signify that the
interview was over.

Lane no longer looked jaunty, for, although he evinced no great dismay,
there was a subtle change in him as he also rose and brushed the dust
off his hat. "Everybody gets tripped up now and then, and must make the
best of it," he said. "Quaint, isn't it, that it should be a man of
Ormesby's kind who most helped to bring me up? Well, it seems I can't
stay any longer with you, boys; but no one knows what may happen, and
I'll try to square the deal with you if ever I come back again."

Nobody answered him, and with a shrug of his shoulders he passed out of
the room; and though I fancied that was the last I should see of him, I
was mistaken.

Then Boone said reflectively: "I wonder whether we have been too easy
with him, sir. I can't help feeling, by the way he yielded, that the
rascal has something up his sleeve."

Before our host could answer he was plied with congratulations and
questions about the money for the redemption of the mortgages, and,
raising his hand for silence, stood up, smiling at the men before him.

"I'll find part of it in the meantime, and there is the profit on the
campaign fund you raised," he said. "You needn't be bashful, gentlemen.
I'm a business man, and will have no objection to charging you three or
four per cent. more interest than the banks. It will, considering the
prospects, be money sunk on good security. Now that we have got our
stumbling block out of the way, I see possibilities for this district,
and am presently going to ask you to form a committee to consider
whether we can't put up a small flour mill or coöperative dairy."

He proceeded to sketch out a project with a vigor of conception and a
grasp of practical details that astonished the listeners, who presently
departed with sincere, if not very neatly expressed, gratitude, and with
hope and exultation in their weather-darkened faces. I tried to express
my own sentiments and, I believe, failed, but Haldane smiled quaintly.

"Don't make any mistake, Ormesby. I'm not setting up as a public
benefactor," he said. "One can't do absolutely nothing, and I don't
quite see why I shouldn't earn a few honest dollars where I can. I dare
say the others will profit, and I should prefer them as friends rather
than enemies; but this scheme is going to pay me--in fact, as you say
here--it has just got to."




CHAPTER XXIX

THE EXIT OF LANE


Early one evening, after Lane's capitulation, I sat in the hall at
Bonaventure waiting its owner's return. Lucille Haldane occupied the
window-seat opposite me, embroidering with an assiduity which, while
slightly irritating, did not altogether displease me. Since the wagon
accident she had, in an indefinite manner, been less cordial, and I, on
my part, was conscious of an unwonted restraint in her presence. It is
unnecessary to say that she made a pretty picture with the square of
still sunlit prairie behind her, though her face was tantalizingly
hidden in shadow, and I could only admire the graceful pose of her
figure and the lissom play of the little white fingers across the
embroidery. The girl must have been sensible of my furtive regards, for
at last she laid down the sewing and looked up sharply.

"Is there nothing among all those papers worth your attention, or have
you taken an interest in embroidery?" she asked, pointing to the
littered journals on the table. "Do you know that it is a little
disconcerting to be watched when at work?"

I was uneasily conscious that my forehead grew hot, but hoped the hue
that wind and sun had set upon it would hide the fact. "Don't you think
the trespass was almost justifiable?" I said. "You are responsible for
spoiling us; and unaccustomed prosperity must be commencing to make me
lazy. I was thinking."

"That is really interesting," said the girl. "Has sudden prosperity also
rendered you incapable of expressing your thoughts in speech?"

In this case, circumstances had certainly done so. I had been thinking
how pretty and desirable the speaker looked; but the trouble was that,
although silence cost me an effort, I could not tell her so. I hoped to
say as much, and more besides, some day; but this moment was not
opportune. Lucille Haldane was mistress of Bonaventure, and I as yet a
struggling man, who, thanks to her good nature and her father's business
skill, had barely escaped sinking into poverty. It would be time to
speak when my position was a little more secure. Meanwhile, in spite of
the sternly repressed longing and uncertainty which daily grew more
painful, it was very pleasant to bask in the sunshine of her presence,
and I dare not risk ending the privilege prematurely.

"I was thinking what a change has come over this part of the prairie," I
said, framing but one portion of my thoughts into words. "Not long ago
one saw nothing but anxious faces and gloomy looks, while now, I fancy,
there is only one downcast man in all this vicinity, and he the one from
whom your father and Boone have just parted. The change, considering
that a single person is chiefly responsible, is almost magical; but,
remembering a past rebuke, that hardly sounds very pretty, does it?"

Lucille Haldane laughed mischievously. "To one of the superior sex; but
are you not forgetting that this season the heavens fought for you? It
certainly might have been more neatly expressed. Do you know that the
education you mentioned is not yet quite finished?"

"I know there is much you could teach me if you would," I said, with a
humility which was not assumed, choking down bolder words which had
almost forced themselves into utterance; and perhaps the effort left its
trace on me, for Lucille turned her head towards the prairie.

"Here is Sergeant Mackay. I wonder what he wants," she said.

Mackay, dusty and damp with perspiration, was ushered in a few minutes
later, and for the first time I felt all the bitterness of jealousy as I
saw the friendly manner in which the girl greeted Cotton, who followed
him. There was nothing of the coquette in Lucille Haldane, and the
knowledge of this added to the sting; but I did not think that even she
was always so unnecessarily gracious. Mackay, however, appeared intent
and grim, and by no means in a humor for casual conversation.

"I'm wanting your father and fresh horses at once, Miss Haldane," he
said. "Ye had a visit from Lane yesterday?"

"We certainly had. What do you want with him?" asked Lucille. And Mackay
smiled dryly when I added a similar question.

"Just his body, and your assistance as a loyal subject, Henry Ormesby.
Ye were once good enough to say ye could not expect too much from the
police; but it's long since your natural protectors had eyes on the
thief who was robbing ye. Niven, when he wasn't quite sober, told a
little story, and there's another bit question of a debt agreement
forgery. Ye will let us have the horses, Miss Haldane?"

Lucille bade them follow her, and I heard her giving orders to one of
the hired men. Then she returned alone in haste to me. "You saw where my
father put the book Miss Redmond gave him?" she said.

"Yes," I answered, wondering. "He locked it inside that bureau and put
the keys into his pocket."

The girl wrenched at the handle, and I noticed by the creaking of the
bureau how strong, in spite of her slenderness, she was. The lock would
not yield, and she turned imperiously to me. "Don't waste a moment, but
smash that drawer in!"

"It is a beautiful piece of maple, and why do you wish to destroy it?" I
said, and, for she had a high spirit, fancied Lucille Haldane came near
stamping one little foot impatiently.

"Can you not do the first thing I ask you without asking questions?" she
said.

There was nothing more to be said, and stooping for the poker, I whirled
it around my head. One end of the bar doubled on itself, but the front
of the drawer crushed in, and when I had wrenched out the fragments,
Lucille drew forth the book.

"I know what my father promised, and there is Miss Redmond to consider.
She has suffered too much already," she said, tearing out whole pages in
hot hurry. "Sergeant Mackay is much less foolish than I once heard you
call him, and I have no doubt suspects something of this. Can't you see
that he could force us to give the papers up? I am going to burn them."

"That at least you shall not do," I said, taking them from her with as
much gentleness as possible, but by superior force, and then positively
quailed before the anger and astonishment in the girl's face.

"You are still so afraid of Lane that you would risk bringing fresh
sorrow on that poor girl in order to protect yourself?" she said, with
biting scorn.

"No," I answered stolidly, without pausing for reflection. "I only wish
to declare it was I who destroyed this evidence, if there is any trouble
over the affair."

I tore the book to pieces and rammed the fragments deep among the
burning logs as I spoke, and when this was accomplished I did not look
up until Lucille Haldane called me by name. Gentle as she could be, I
had a wholesome respect for her wrath.

"I deserved it," she said, with a bewitching deepening of the crimson in
her cheeks and a shining in her eyes. "You will forgive me. I had not
time to think."

Thereupon I longed for eloquence, or Boone's ready wit; but no neat
speech came to my relief, and while I racked my clouded brains the girl
must have guessed what was taking place, for merriment crept into her
eyes. Then, just as an inspiration dawned on me, as usual, too late, a
hurried tread drew nearer along the passage.

"It is Sergeant Mackay, and he must not come in here," said my companion
with a nervous laugh, as she glanced at the shattered bureau. "Is it
quite impossible for you to hurry?" Then before I realized what was
happening, she had placed one hand on my shoulder and positively hustled
me out of the door. Hardly knowing what I did, I clutched at the little
fingers, and missed them, and the next moment I plunged violently into
the astonished sergeant.

"Mr. Ormesby is ready, and so are the horses. I hope your chase will be
successful," a voice, which sounded a little uneven (though there was a
trace of laughter in it) said, and the door swung to.

Mackay looked at me curiously; and when we had mounted, said: "I'm
asking no questions, but yon was surely a bit summary dismissal!"

"It's just as well you are not, because I am afraid I should not answer
them," I said, and Mackay frowned upon his subordinate when Cotton
laughed.

We had ridden a league before he vouchsafed any explanation. "I could
not call in my other men in time, and as we may have to divide forces,
demanded your assistance in virtue of the powers entrusted me," he said
formally. "We'll call first at Gordon's on the odd chance our man is
there, and pick up Adams, though Lane's away hot-foot for the rail by
now, I'm thinking. He had no' a bad nerve to cut it so fine."

"Did the confounded rascal know there was a warrant out?" I gasped,
almost pulling my horse up in my indignation, as I remembered Boone's
hint.

"We did not advertise the fact, but yon man knows everything, and I'm
no' saying it's quite impossible," Mackay answered dryly. "But what ails
ye that ye're drawing bridle, Harry Ormesby?"

I drove the spurs in the next second and shot clear a length ahead, and,
though the Bonaventure horses were good, the others had hard work to
catch me during the next mile or two. If Lane suspected the issue of the
warrant, he had victimized us to the end, for he had tricked us into
furnishing him with not only the means of escape, but sufficient ready
money to start him upon a fresh career in another land. We met Boone and
Haldane returning from Gordon's ranch, and while the former advised the
sergeant that Lane must be well on his way to the station by this time,
I drew Haldane aside and hurriedly related what had happened at
Bonaventure.

"Lane is a capable rascal, and will certainly catch the westbound train.
There is little to be gained either by wiring the bank," he said. "He
insisted on taking a large share in paper currency, and as the draft
was one I had by me, he would no doubt arrange for his friends to cash
it before I could warn the drawer. Do you know the bureau you smashed in
cost me sixty dollars, Ormesby?"

I was endeavoring to express my contrition when Haldane laughed. "I am
not sure that you are the only person responsible for the destruction of
my furniture."

Mackay had started before our conversation was finished, and it cost
Boone and me a long gallop to come up with him, while it was only by
dint of hard riding that we eventually reached the station some hours
after the departure of the train. Mackay first of all wired to the
stations down the line, and then explained: "That's just a useless duty.
Yon man is keen enough to know he might find the troopers waiting for
him. He'll leave the cars at the flag station where there's nobody to
detain him, and, buying a horse at the first ranch, strike south for the
border. It would be desirable that we grip him before he reaches it."

Because various formalities must be gone through before a Canadian
offender is handed over by the Americans, this was clear enough, though
I did not see how it was to be accomplished, until Mackay had exchanged
high words with the station agent. A freight locomotive and an empty
stock car rolled out of the siding, and we took our places therein, men
and horses together.

"Sorry I haven't got a new bogie drawing-room for you, but it's getting
time the police gave some other station a share of their business," said
the exasperated railroad official. I also overheard him tell the
engineer: "You have got to be back by daylight, and needn't be
particular about shaking them."

It was not the fault of the engineer if he did not shake the life out of
us. Canadian lines are neither metalled nor ballasted with much
solidity; and with only one car to steady it the huge machine appeared
to leap over each inequality of the track. There was also nipping frost
in the air, the prairie glittered under the stars, and bitter draughts
pulsed through the lurching car. It was not an easy matter to keep the
horses on their feet or to maintain our own balance, but the swish of
the dust and the rattle of flung-up ballast brought some comfort as an
indication of our speed.

"It's a steeplechase already," gasped Boone, holding on by a head-rope
as we roared across a bridge. "I looked at the gauge-glass, and the
engineer can hardly have full steam up yet. We'll be lucky to escape
with whole limbs when he has."

The prediction was fully justified, for the bouncing, jolting, and
hammering increased with the pace, and I made most of the journey
holding fast by a very cold rail as for my life, while half-seen through
the rush of ballast I watched the prairie race past. When one could look
forward there was nothing visible but a field of dancing stars and a
smear of white below, athwart which the blaze of the great headlamp
drove onwards with the speed of a comet. All of us were thankful when
the locomotive was pulled up before a lonely shed, and while we dragged
the horses out the man who drove it, grinning at his stoker, said: "I
guess there's no bonus for beating the record on this contract?"

"No," said Mackay dryly. "Ye have the satisfaction of knowing ye served
the State."

By good fortune we found a sleepy man in the galvanized iron shed, and
he informed us that Lane had alighted from the last train and started on
foot towards the nearest ranch, which lay about a league away. Inside of
fifteen minutes we were pounding on its door, and the startled owner
said that the man we asked for had bought a good horse from him, and
inquired the shortest route to the American frontier.

"Four hours' start," said Mackay, as we proceeded again. "Ye can add
another three for the making of inquiries and searching for his trail.
It will be a close race, I'm thinking."

It certainly proved so, as well as a long one, because we lost much time
halting at lonely ranches, and still more in riding in wrong directions;
for Lane had evidently picked up somebody, perhaps a contrabandist,
well versed in the art of laying a false trail. Neither did he strike
straight for the border, and after dividing and joining forces several
times, it was late one evening when we found ourselves close behind him.

"Oh, yes! A man like that paid me forty dollars to swap horses with him
and his partner, it might be an hour ago," said the last rancher at
whose dwelling we stopped. "Seemed in a mighty hurry to reach Montana.
How long might it take you to reach the frontier? Well, that's a
question of horses, and I've no more in my corral. You ought to get
there by daylight, or a little earlier. Follow the wheel trail and
you'll see a boundary stake on the edge of the big _coulée_ to the left
of it."

Though we had twice changed horses, our beasts were jaded; but there was
solace in the thought that Lane was an indifferent rider, and must have
almost reached the limits of his endurance, while, though used to the
saddle, I was too tired to retain more than a blurred impression of that
last night's ride. There was no moon, but the blue heavens were thick
with twinkling stars, and the prairie glittered faintly under the white
hoar frost. It swelled into steeper rises than those we were used to,
while at times we blundered down the crumbling sides of deep hollows,
destitute of verdure, in which the bare earth rang metallically beneath
the hoofs. Still, the wheel trail led straight towards the south, and,
aching all over, we pushed on, as best we could, until I grew too drowsy
even to notice my horse's stumbles or to speculate what the end would
be. Before that happened, however, I had considered the question and
decided that there was no need for any scruples in seizing Lane if the
chance fell to me. We had merely promised to refrain from pressing one
particular charge against the fugitive, and were willing to keep our
bargain, though he on his part had deceived us into making it.

At last, when only conscious of the cruel jolting and the thud of tired
hoofs which rose and fell in a drowsy cadence through the silence,
Mackay's voice roused me, and I fancied I made out two mounted figures
faintly projected against the sky ahead. "Yon's them, and ye'll each do
your best. We're distressfully close on the frontier now," he said.

Once more the spurs sank into the jaded beast, and when it responded I
became suddenly wide awake. It was bitterly cold and that hour in the
morning when man's vitality sinks to its lowest ebb; but one and all
braced themselves for the final effort. Boone, in spite of all that I
could do, drew out ahead, and we followed as best we might, blundering
down into gullies and over rises where the grass grew harsh and high,
while thrice we lost the man who led us as well as the fugitives.
Nevertheless, they hove into sight again before a league had passed, and
it even seemed that we gained a little on the one who lagged behind,
until, at last, the blue of the heavens faded, and grayness gathered in
the east.

It spread over half the horizon; the two figures before us grew more
distinct; and Boone rode almost midway between ourselves and them, when,
as though by magic, the first one disappeared. Mackay roared to Cotton
when, topping a rise, there opened before us a winding hollow, and
Boone, wheeling his horse, waved an arm warningly.

"It's the wrong man doubling. Come on your hardest until the trail
forks, and then try left and right!" he shouted before he, too, sank
from view beneath the edge of the hollow.

There were birches in the ravine as well as willow groves, and the
fugitives had vanished among them, leaving no trace behind. There were,
unfortunately, also several trails, and, because time was precious, the
noise we made pressing up and down them would have prevented our hearing
any sound. Mackay, who in spite of this, sat still listening, used a
little illicit language, and rated Cotton for no particular cause, while
I had managed to entangle myself in a thicket, when Boone's voice fell
sharply from the opposite rise: "Gone away! He has taken to the open!"

With many a stumble we compassed the steep ascent, and, as we gained
the summit, the growing light showed me a solitary figure already
diminishing down a stretch of level prairie. "It's our last chance!"
roared Mackay, pointing to what looked like a break in the grasses
ahead. "I'm fearing yon's the boundary."

Our beasts were worn out, their riders equally so; but we called up the
last of our failing strength to make a creditable finish of the race.
The _coulée_ was left behind us, and Lane's figure grew larger ahead,
for Mackay, who certainly did not wish to, declared he could see no
boundary post. Then as the first crimson flushed the horizon, a lonely
homestead rose out of the grass, and when Lane rode straight for it the
sergeant swore in breathless gasps. A little smoke curled from its
chimney, for the poorer ranchers rise betimes in that country. We saw
Lane drop from the saddle and disappear within the door, while when we
drew bridle before it, two gaunt brown-faced men came out and regarded
us stolidly.

"What place is this?" asked Mackay with a gasp.

One of them seemed to consider before he answered him: "Well, it's
generally allowed to be Todhunter's Wells."

"That's not what I want," said the sergeant. "Where's the boundary?"
This time the other man laughed as he pointed backwards across the
prairie we had traversed.

"'Bout a league behind you. No, sir; you're not in Canada. This, as the
song says, is 'the land of the free.' You'll find the big stake by the
_coulée_, if you don't believe me."

"Beaten!" said Mackay, dropping his bridle; and added aside: "Whisky
smugglers by their manners, I'm thinking." As we endeavored to master
our disappointment, Lane himself appeared in the doorway. He looked very
weary, his fleshy face was haggard and mottled by streaks of gray; but
the humorous gleam I hated shone mockingly in his eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sergeant, but you can't complain about the
chase!" he said. "Even Cannuck policemen and amateur detectives aren't
recognized here; and as there are two respectable witnesses, I'm afraid
you'll have to apply to the Washington authorities. You can tell Mr.
Haldane, Ormesby, that there's no use in stopping his check. I don't
think there is anything else I need say, except that, as I have booked
all the accommodation here, they might give you breakfast at the ranch
in the _coulée_."

He actually nodded to us, and thrusting his hands into his pockets,
leaned against the lintel of the door with an air of amusement which was
not needed to remind us that he was master of the situation, and for the
last time set my blood on fire. There was, however, nothing to be gained
by virulence, and when Mackay, who disdained to answer a word, wheeled
his jaded horse, we silently followed him towards the _coulée_.

"I wish the Americans joy of him," the grizzled sergeant said, at
length. "There's just one bit consolation--we can very well spare him;
and ye'll mind what the douce provost said in the song--'Just e'en let
him be; the toon is weel quit o' that deil o' Dundee.'"

Boone, smiling curiously, closed with the speaker. "There is one thing I
expected he did not do, and as it could hardly be due to magnanimity, he
must have forgotten it," he said. "You will not go back empty-handed,
Sergeant. Are you aware that you hold a warrant for me?"

Mackay pulled his horse up and stared at him. "I cannot see the point of
yon joke," he said.

"There isn't one," was the answer. "Now that my work is finished, I see
no further need of hiding the fact that, while you knew me as Adams, my
name is--Boone."

Mackay still stared at him, then laughed a little, as it were in
admiration, but silently. "I'm understanding a good deal now--and that
was why ye helped run yon thief down. Well, I'll take your parole, and
I'm thinking ye will have little trouble since the prosecutor's gone."




CHAPTER XXX

THE LAST TOAST


Lane troubled us no further, and there came a time when those who had
suffered under him, and at last assisted in his overthrow, would laugh
boisterously at my narrative of his hasty exit from the prairie with the
troopers hard upon his heels. They appeared to consider the description
of how, with characteristic audacity, he bade us an ironical farewell
one cold morning from the doorway of a lonely ranch an appropriate
finale, and bantered the sergeant upon his tardiness. The latter would
answer them dryly that the Dominion was well quit of Lane.

Some time, however, passed before this came about, and meanwhile winter
closed in on the prairie. It was, save for one uncertainty which greatly
troubled me, a tranquil winter--for I had, in addition to promising
schemes for the future, a balance in the bank--but not wholly
uneventful. Before the first snow had fallen, men with theodolites and
compasses invaded Crane Valley, and left inscribed posts behind them
when they passed. This was evidently a preliminary survey; but it showed
the railroad was coming at last, although, as the men could tell us
nothing, there remained the somewhat important question whether it would
follow that or an alternative route.

Also, a month or two later, Thorn and Steel sought speech with me, the
former looking almost uncomfortable when his companion said: "I've been
talking with Haldane about taking up my old place, and don't see how to
raise the money, or feel very keen over it. We never did much good there
since my father went under. The fact is, we two pull well together, and
you have the longest head. Won't you run both places and make me a kind
of foreman with a partner's interest?"

The suggestion suited me in many ways, but bearing in mind what might be
possible, I saw a difficulty. "I dare say we might make a workable
arrangement, and I couldn't find a better partner; but haven't you
Sally's interests to consider?" I said.

Steel smiled in an oracular fashion. "That's Tom's business," he said,
with a gesture, which, though I think it was involuntary, suggested that
he felt relieved of a load. "Sally is a daisy, and I've done my best for
her; but though there's nobody got more good points, I don't mind
allowing she was a blame big handful now and then. Of course, we are all
friends here!"

"We won't be if you start in apologizing for Sally," broke in the
stalwart Thorn; and as I glanced at his reddened face, a light dawned on
me.

"That's all right!" said the smiling brother. "There's no use in wasting
words on him. He has had fair warning, and I'm not to blame."

It struck me that the best thing I could do was to shake hands with the
wrathful foreman, and I did it very heartily.

"He will think differently some day, and you will have a good wife,
Tom," I said. "We'll miss you both badly at Crane Valley, but must try
to give you a good start off when you take up your preëmpted land."

It must be recorded that henceforward Sally was a model of virtue, so
much so that I marveled, while at times her brother appeared to find it
hard to conceal his astonishment. She was more subdued in manner and
gentle in speech, while I could now understand the soft light which
filled her eyes when they rested upon my foreman. The former spirit,
however, still lurked within her, for returning to the house one evening
when spring had come around again, I saw Cotton, who had once been a
favorite of hers, leap out of the door with a brush whirling through the
air close behind him.

"What is the meaning of this, Cotton?" I asked sharply, and the
corporal, who looked slightly sheepish, glanced over his shoulder as
though expecting another missile.

"The truth is that I don't quite know," he said. "Perhaps Miss Steel is
suffering from a bad toothache or something of the kind to-day."

"That does not satisfy me," I said, as severely as I could, hoping he
would not discover it was mischief which prompted me. "I presume my
housekeeper did not eject you without some reason?"

"Why don't you ask her, then?" said Cotton awkwardly. "Still, I suppose
an explanation is due to you if you insist on it. I went in to talk to
Sally while I waited for you, and said something--perfectly innocent, I
assure you, about---- Well--confound it--if I did say I'd been
heartbroken ever since I saw her last, was that any reason why she
should hurl a brush at me? She used to appreciate that kind of foolery."

"Circumstances alter cases," I said dryly. "Don't you know that Sally
will leave here as Mrs. Thorn in a few weeks or so?"

"On my word of honor, I didn't," and Cotton laughed boyishly. "Go in and
make my peace with her, if you can. I am positively frightened to. Say
I'm deeply contrite and--confoundedly hungry."

Supper was just ready, but there were only four plates on the table, and
when I ventured to mention that Cotton waited repentant and famishing
without, Sally regarded me stonily. "He can just stay there and starve,"
she said.

Even Thorn, who, I think, knew Sally's weak points and how they were
counterbalanced by the warm-heartedness which would have covered much
worse sins, laughed; but the lady remained implacable, and, as a result
of it, Cotton hungry without, until--when the meal was almost
finished--Dixon, who was accompanied by Sergeant Mackay, astonished us
by alighting at the door. He brought startling news.

The first carloads of rails and ties for the new road were ready for
dispatching, and it would pass close by my possessions; while, after we
had recovered from our excitement, he said: "I have been searching for
a Corporal Cotton, and heard he might be here. Do you know where he
is?"

I looked at Sally, who answered for me frigidly: "You might find him
trying to keep warm in the stable."

Dixon appeared astonished, and Mackay's eyes twinkled, while after some
consideration the autocrat at the head of the table said: "If it's
important business, Charlie may tell him that he may come in."

Cotton seemed glad to obey the summons, and knowing that he had ridden a
long way since his last meal, I signaled Dixon to wait, when Sally,
relenting, set a double portion before him. It was, therefore, some time
later when the lawyer, glancing in his direction, said: "You are Charles
Singlehurst Cotton, born at Halton Edge in the county of Warwick,
England?"

The effect was electrical. Cotton thrust back his plate and straightened
himself, staring fixedly at the speaker with wrath in his gaze. "I am
Corporal C. Cotton of the Northwest Police, and whether I was born in
England or Canada concerns only myself."

Dixon smiled indulgently, and Mackay, looking towards me, nodded his
head with a complacent air of one who has witnessed the fulfilment of
his prophecy.

"If I had any doubts before, after inspecting a photograph of you, I
have none at present," the former said. "Mr. Ormesby forgot to mention
that I am a lawyer by profession, and Messrs. James, Tillotson & James,
of London, whose name you doubtless know, requested me through a
correspondent to search for you. Having business with Mr. Haldane, I
came in person. Have you any objection to according me a private
interview?"

Cotton looked at me interrogatively, and I nodded. "You can safely trust
even family secrets to Mr. Dixon. He is, or will be, one of the foremost
lawyers in the Dominion."

Dixon made me a little semi-ironical bow, and when he and Cotton passed
out together into my own particular sanctum, a lean-to shed, Mackay
beamed upon me. "Man, did I not tell ye?" he said.

It was some time before Cotton came back, looking grave and yet elated,
and turning towards us, said: "Mr. Dixon has brought me unexpected news,
both good and bad. It is necessary that I should accompany him to
Winnipeg. Sergeant, you have the power to grant me a week's leave of
absence?"

Mackay pursed his lips up, and, with overdone gravity, shook his head.
"I'm fearing we cannot spare ye with the new mounts to train."

Dixon chuckled softly. "I'm afraid Charles Singlehurst Cotton will break
no more police horses for you. He has a good many of another kind of his
own," he said. "He has also influential relatives who require his
presence in England shortly, and have arranged things so that your chief
authorities will probably release him before his term of service is
completed. The signature to this note should remove any scruples you may
have about granting him leave."

Mackay drew himself up, and returned the letter with the air of one
acknowledging a commander's orders, then let his hand drop heavily on
Cotton's shoulder. His tone was slightly sardonic, but there was a very
kindly look in his eyes as he said: "Ye'll no' be above accepting the
congratulations of the hard old sergeant who licked ye into shape. It
was no' that easy, and maybe it galled ye some; but ye have learned a
few useful things while ye rode with the Northwest troopers ye never
would have done in England. We took ye, a raw liddie, some bit overproud
of himself, and now I'm thinking we'll miss ye when we send ye back the
makings of a man. Away ye go with Mr. Dixon so long as it's necessary."

It struck me as a graceful thought, for Cotton stood straight, as on
parade, with the salute to a superior, as he said: "I'll report for duty
in seven days, sir," then laid his brown hand in Mackay's wrinkled palm.
"Every word's just as true as gospel, and I'll thank you in years to
come."

He took my arm and drew me out upon the starlit prairie. "I can't sleep
to-night, and my horse is lame. You will lend me one," he said. Then
when I asked whether he was not going with Dixon to the station, he
laughed, and flung back his head.

"I'm going to spend all night in the saddle. It will be best for me," he
said. "I'll tell you the whole story later, and, meantime, may say that
over the sea, yonder, somebody is dead. I know what usually sends such
men as I out here, but while I should like you to remember that I
neither broke any law of the old country nor injured any woman, I
wouldn't see which side my bread was buttered--and there are various
ways of playing the fool."

"We have Mackay's assurance that the Colonial cure has proved a success,
and in all seriousness you have my best wishes for the future," I said.

The corporal answered gravely: "If it had not I should never venture to
visit Bonaventure to-morrow, as I intend doing."

"Visit Bonaventure?" I said, a little thickly.

"Of course!" said Cotton, with both exultation and surprise in his tone.
"Can't you see the best this news may have made possible to me?"

I was thankful that the kindly darkness hid my face, and turned towards
the stables without a word; while, after the corporal had mounted, I
found it very hard to answer him when he said simply, yet with a great
air of friendship: "Although you were irritating sometimes, Ormesby, you
were the first man I ever spoke frankly to in this country. Won't you
wish me luck?"

"If she will have you, there is no good thing I would not wish for you
both," I said; but in spite of my efforts my voice rang hollow, and I
was thankful when Cotton, who did not seem to notice it, rode away.

I did not return to the house until long after the drumming of hoofs,
growing fainter and fainter, had finally died away, and said little
then. I even flung the journals Dixon brought, which were full of the
new railroad, unread, away. My rival was young and handsome, generous,
and likable, even in his weaknesses. He was also, as it now appeared, of
good estate and birth, and granting all that I could on my own side, the
odds seemed heavily in favor of Cotton, while a certain knowledge of the
worst would almost have been preferable to the harrowing uncertainty as
to how the Mistress of Bonaventure would make the comparison. It lasted
for two whole weeks--weeks which I never forgot; for I could not visit
Bonaventure until I learned whether Cotton's errand had resulted
successfully, and he sent no word to lessen the anxiety.

At last I rode in to the settlement, whither I knew Haldane had gone to
inspect the progress of the road, and met Boone and Mackay on the
prairie. "Has Cotton returned?" I asked.

"He has," said Mackay dryly. "This is his last day's duty. He loitered
at the settlement, and ye will meet him presently. I'm not understanding
what is wrong with him, but he's uncertain in the temper, and I'm
thinking that sudden good fortune does not agree with him."

I met Cotton, riding very slowly and looking straight ahead. He pulled
up when I greeted him, and seeing the question in my eyes, ruefully
shook his head. "I've had my answer, Ormesby--given with a gentleness
that made it worse," he said.

He must have misunderstood my expression, and perhaps my face was a
study just then, for he added grimly: "It is perfectly true, and really
not surprising. Hopeless from the first--and, I think, there is someone
else, though heaven knows where in the whole Dominion she would find any
man fit to brush the dust from her little shoes, including myself. Well,
there is no use repining, and I'll have years in which to get over it;
but it's lucky I'm leaving this country, and--for one can't shirk a
painful duty--I'll say good-by to you with the others at Bonaventure
to-morrow."

I was glad that he immediately rode on, for while I pitied him, my heart
leaped within me. Had it happened otherwise I should have tried to wish
him well, and now my satisfaction, which was, nevertheless, stronger
than all such considerations, appeared ungenerous.

When I reached it the usually sleepy settlement presented a stirring
scene. Long strings of flat cars cumbered the trebled sidetrack, rows of
huts had risen as by magic, and two big locomotives moved ceaselessly to
and fro. Dozens of oxen and horse teams hauled the great iron scoops
which tore the sod up to form the roadbed, while the air vibrated with
the thud of shovels, the ringing of hammers, and the clang of falling
rails. The track lengthened yard by yard as I stood and watched. In
another week or two the swarming toilers would have moved their mushroom
town further on towards Crane Valley, and I was almost oppressed by a
sense of what all this tremendous activity promised me. It meant at
least prosperity instead of penury, the realizing of ambitions, perhaps
a road to actual affluence; also it might be far more than this. I
scarcely saw Haldane until he grasped my hand.

"It is a great day, Ormesby," he said. "No man can tell exactly how far
this narrow steel road may carry all of you. Still, one might almost say
that you have deserved it--and it has come at last."

"It will either be the brightest day in all my life--or the worst," I
said. "Will you listen to me for two minutes, sir?"

Haldane did so, and then leaned against a flat car, with the wrinkles
deepening on his forehead, for what appeared to be an inordinately long
time. "I may tell you frankly that I had not anticipated this--and am
not sure I should not have tried to prevent it if I had," he said. "I
know nothing that does not testify in your favor as an individual,
Ormesby; but, as even you admit, there are objections from one point of
view. Still, this road and our new schemes may do much for you and----
Well, I never refused my daughter anything, and if she approves of you,
and you will not separate us altogether, I won't say no."

I had expected nothing better, and dreaded a great deal worse; and my
pulses throbbed furiously when, after some further speech, Haldane
strolled away with a half-wistful, half-regretful glance at his daughter
who approached us as we spoke. She was in high spirits, and greeted me
cordially.

"You ought to be happy, and you look serious. This is surely the best
you could have hoped for," she said.

It seemed best to end the uncertainty at once, and yet, remembering
Cotton's fate, I was afraid. Nevertheless, mustering courage, I looked
straight at the speaker, and slowly shook my head. Lucille was always
shrewd, and I think she understood, for her lips quivered a little, and
the smile died out of her eyes.

"You are difficult to satisfy. Is it not enough?" she said.

Her voice had in it no trace of either encouragement or disdain, and a
boldness I had scarcely hoped for came upon me as I answered: "In itself
it is worth nothing to me. What you said is true, for I have set my
hopes very high. There is only one prize in the Dominion that would
satisfy me, and that is--you."

Lucille moved a little away from me, and I could not see her face, for
she looked back towards the train of cars which came clanking down the
track; but for once words were given me, and when I ceased, she looked
up again. Though the rich damask had deepened in her cheek, there was a
significant question in her eyes.

"Are you sure you are not mistaken, Rancher Ormesby? Men do not always
know their own minds," she said.

The underlying question demanded an answer, and I do not know how I
furnished it, for I had already found it bewildering when asked by
myself; but with deep humility I framed disjoined words, and gathered
hope once more when I read what might have been a faint trace of
mischief, and something more, in my companion's eyes.

"It is not very convincing--but what could you say? And you are, after
all, not very wise," she said. "I wonder if I might tell you that I knew
part of this long ago; but the rest I did not know until the evening
the team bolted in the hollow. Still," and Lucille grew grave again,
"would it hurt you very much if I said I could not listen because I
feared you were only dreaming this time, too?"

"It would drive me out of Canada a broken-hearted man," I said. "It was
you for whom I strove, always you--even when I did not know it--since
the first day I saw you. I would fling away all I own to-morrow,
and----"

The words broke off suddenly, for Lucille looked up at me, shyly this
time, and from under half-lowered lashes. "I think," she said very
slowly, and with a pause, during which I did not breathe, "that would be
a pity, Harry Ormesby."

It was sufficient. All that the world could give seemed comprised within
the brief sentence; and it was difficult to remember that we stood clear
in the eyes of the swarming toilers upon the level prairie. Neither do I
remember what either of us next said, for there was a glamour upon me;
but as we turned back towards Haldane, side by side, I hazarded a query,
and Lucille smiled. "You ask too many questions--are you not yet
content? Still, since you ask, I think I did not understand aright
either until a little while ago."

Haldane appeared satisfied, though, perhaps, that is not the most
appropriate word, for he himself supplied a better one; and when we were
next alone, and I ventured thanks and protestations, laughed, in the
whimsical fashion he sometimes adopted, I think, to hide his inward
sentiments.

"You need not look so contrite, for I suppose you could not help it; and
I am resigned," he said. "There. We will take all the rest for granted,
and you must wait another year." Then, although Haldane smiled again, he
laid his hand on my shoulder in a very kindly fashion as he added;
"Lucille might, like her sister, have shone in London and Paris; but it
seems she prefers the prairie--and, after all, I do not know that she
has not chosen well."

The story of my failures, mistakes, and struggles ended then and there,
for henceforward, even when passing troubles rested upon us, I could
turn for counsel and comfort to a helpmate whose wisdom and sympathy
were equalled only by her courage. Nevertheless, two incidents linger in
my memory, and were connected with the last meeting of what had now
ceased to be a prairie tribunal at Bonaventure. It was an occasion of
festivity, but regret was mingled with it, for Boone and Cotton would
leave us that night, and there was not one of the bronzed men gathered
in the great hall at Bonaventure who would not miss them. Boone, it may
be mentioned, had, after entering into recognizances to appear if
wanted, been finally released from them by the police. At length Haldane
stood up at the head of the long table.

"This has been a day to remember, and, I think, what we have decided
to-night will set its mark upon the future of the prairie," he said.
"Where all did well there were two who chiefly helped us to win what we
have done, and it is to our sorrow that one goes back to his own country
now that his work is well accomplished. We will not lightly forget him.
The other will, I hope, be spared to stay with you and share your
triumphs as he has done your adversity. I have to announce my daughter's
approaching marriage to your comrade, Henry Ormesby."

It pleased me greatly that Cotton was the first upon his feet, and
Mackay the next, although it was but for a second, because, almost
simultaneously, a double row of weather-darkened men heaved themselves
upright. Cotton's face was flushed, and his eyes shone strangely under
the candlelight; but he looked straight at me as he solemnly raised the
glass in his hand.

"The Mistress of Bonaventure: God bless her, and send every happiness to
both of them!" he said.

The very rafters rang to the shout that followed, and it was the last
time that toast was honored, for when next my neighbors gathered round
me with goodwill and festivity, Lucille Haldane became mistress of the
new homestead which had replaced the sod-house at Crane Valley, instead
of Bonaventure.

It was an hour later when she stood beside me, under the moonlight,
speeding the last of the guests. Boone halted before us, bareheaded, a
moment, with a curiously wistful look which was yet not envious, and his
hand on the bridle. "It was a good fight, but I shall never again have
such an ally as Miss Haldane," he said.

He had barely mounted, when Cotton came up, and I felt my companion's
fingers tremble as, I think, from a very kindly impulse, she slipped
them from my arm. Cotton, however, was master of himself, and gravely
shook hands with both of us. "It was not an empty speech, Ormesby. I
meant every word of it. Heaven send you both all happiness," he said.

He, too, vanished into the dimness with a dying beat of hoofs, and so
out of our life; and we two were left alone, hand in hand, with only the
future before us, on the moonlit prairie.


THE END




Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
original text have been corrected.

In Chapter II, "the brand of serviture" was changed to "the brand of
servitude".

In Chapter III, "a composure which astonished be" was changed to "a
composure which astonished me", and "he was bent in discharging his
duty" was changed to "he was bent on discharging his duty".

In Chapter VII, "Becaues he'd gone" was changed to "Because he'd gone",
and a mismatched quotation mark was corrected after "Still, you might
have been a little more civil, Sally."

In Chapter VIII, "it occured to me that Lucille Haldane" was changed to
"it occurred to me that Lucille Haldane".

In Chapter IX, "every available dollar for the approaching stuggle" was
changed to "every available dollar for the approaching struggle".

In Chapter X, a mismatched quotation mark was corrected before
"'Twoinette's so--so blamed systematic".

In Chapter XI, "while I draged at the halliards" was changed to "while I
dragged at the halliards", "life your hands at once" was changed to
"lift your hands at once", "several dark figures on the varanda" was
changed to "several dark figures on the veranda", and "the shock of her
kneel upon the bottom" was changed to "the shock of her keel upon the
bottom".

In Chapter XII, "you have won lands down" was changed to "you have won
hands down".

In Chapter XV, "a little worse than he rest" was changed to "a little
worse than the rest".

In Chapter XVI, "the time for open resistance had come a last" was
changed to "the time for open resistance had come at last", a missing
period was added after "who watched our efforts with much approval", and
"the memory of former wongs" was changed to "the memory of former
wrongs".

In Chapter XVII, "snatching here hand away" was changed to "snatching
her hand away".

In Chapter XXII, "panting of mammonth engines" was changed to "panting
of mammoth engines".

In Chapter XXIII, "feed and cloth me" was changed to "feed and clothe
me", a missing period was added after "her eyes were filled with light",
and "igoring Dixon's advice" was changed to "ignoring Dixon's advice".

In Chapter XXIV, "I picketed the documents" was changed to "I pocketed
the documents", and "too a big morsel" was changed to "too big a
morsel".

In Chapter XXVII, "was I was uneasily conscious" was changed to "was, I
was uneasily conscious".

In Chapter XXVIII, "a promising crop of them an hand" was changed to "a
promising crop of them on hand", and "unobstrusively endeavored to sell"
was changed to "unobtrusively endeavored to sell".

In Chapter XXIX, a period was changed to a question mark after "it is a
little disconcerting to be watched when at work", "the sped of a comet"
was changed to "the speed of a comet", and "shone mockingly in his ayes"
was changed to "shone mockingly in his eyes".

Several words (such as bull-frog and candle-light) were hyphenated
inconsistently in the original text.





End of Project Gutenberg's The Mistress of Bonaventure, by Harold Bindloss