Part 12 (1/2)
Thirlwell started. ”It's possible you have got near the truth. n.o.body knows as much as Driscoll about Strange's prospecting. But I must answer the letter. What am I to say?”
”If you tell her to have nothing to do with Stormont, it ought to be enough in the meantime,” Scott replied. ”You could send down your answer when, the next Hudson's Bay breeds come along.”
They were silent for a few minutes, and then Scott resumed: ”I understand Miss Strange means to look for the vein next summer and you are going. Why is that, since you don't believe her father's tale?”
”She's resolved to go and I can help. When she's persuaded the ore can't be found she'll be content to give the notion up. I don't want the thing to occupy her thoughts until it becomes a kind of mania, as it did with Strange.”
”I imagine she's an attractive girl.”
”She is attractive; but that has nothing to do with it,” Thirlwell replied with a frown. ”I'm not in love with Miss Strange. To begin with, I can't support a wife, and marriage hasn't much charm for me. Then I think she's clever enough to make her mark, and will stick to her occupation until she does, if she gets rid of this foolish notion of looking for the ore.”
”I see,” said Scott, with some dryness. ”You feel sorry for the girl and want to save her from getting like Strange? Well, it's a chivalrous object; but there's a thing you don't seem to have thought of yet.
Prospecting a big belt of country is a long job, and if you're away much of the summer, how are you going to keep your engagement with me?”
”I have thought of it,” Thirlwell replied. ”It's awkward--”
Scott smiled at his embarra.s.sment. ”Well, I'll let you go. In fact, I don't mind taking a stake in the expedition, in the way of food and tools.”
”Miss Strange wouldn't agree.”
”Very well. Suppose you locate the ore, she'll need advice and further help. Now I know something about mining; I've paid pretty high for what I've learned. I understand Miss Strange hasn't much money, and we might save her some expensive mistakes. You see, I haven't much hope of getting down to pay-dirt here.”
Thirlwell pondered. He liked and trusted Scott, and the thought of being able to offer Agatha the help she might need was attractive; but he meant to be honest and exercised some self-control.
”It would pay you better to leave the thing alone. I feel pretty sure the ore's a freak of Strange's imagination.”
”It's possible,” Scott agreed. ”Go and see.”
Thirlwell knocked out and filled his pipe; and then remarked with some diffidence: ”You stated that you didn't think you had enough capital to keep the Clermont going long.”
”I haven't enough,” Scott said, smiling. ”But I have some rich relations who might finance me if I could show them a sure snap. I'd like to do so, anyhow, because, after spending most all my money, I feel I've got to make good.”
”I can understand this. Why did you come up here in the beginning?”
”It's rather a long story and I reckon it starts with a canoe trip I made in the North one fall. I had then begun a business in which family influence could give me a lift. Well, it was Indian summer; mosquitoes dying off, lakes and rivers all asleep in the pale suns.h.i.+ne. As we paddled and portaged through the woods I felt I'd got into another world. Wanted to stop forever and began to hate the cities; the feeling wasn't new, but I hadn't got it really strong till then. Sometimes at night, when the loons were calling on the lake and my packers were asleep, I'd lie by the fire and speculate what civilization was worth and if a man might not do better to cut loose and live by his gun and traps. Well, of course, it was a crank notion, and I wasn't all a fool.
I stopped longer than I meant, but I pulled out and got to work again.”
Scott paused and smoked meditatively before he resumed: ”It was of no use; the city palled. Don't know that I'm a cynic or much of a philosopher, but the folks I knew seemed to have a wrong idea of values.
Spent their best efforts grubbing for money and trying to take the lead in smart society. They made me tired with their hustling about things that didn't matter; I wanted the woods and the quiet the river hardly breaks.”
”You went back?”
”I did,” said Scott. ”Felt I had to go. It was winter and the cold was fierce, but we made four hundred miles with the hand-sledge across the snow, and when I came out with some fingers frozen I was nine pounds heavier. Used to sit in my office afterwards and dream about the glittering lakes and the stiff white pines; saw them crowding round the lonely camps, when I ought to have been studying the market reports.
Well, I couldn't concentrate on buying and selling things. Betting on the market and getting after other people's money seemed a pretty mean business.” He paused and added with a twinkle: ”That's how I felt then, and I don't know that I've changed my opinions much.”
”All the same, you're anxious to make your mining pay.”