Part 48 (2/2)

”Try it! I am a good organizer if nothing else. If you send emissaries to my plants, it will cause certain violence--and I think you had better avoid that, for we outnumber you ten to one.”

Stormy accusations and retorts followed, till Emerson left the place in helpless disgust.

Nor had he hit upon any method of relief when Cherry came down to the plant on the following morning, though he and Big George had spent the night in conference. She lost no time in futile indignation, but inquired straightway:

”What are you doing about it? The fish have begun to run, and you can't afford to lose an hour.”

”I have sent a man to each of the other plants to hire fishermen at any price, but I have no hope that they will succeed. Marsh has his crews too well in hand for that.”

Cherry nodded. ”They wouldn't dare quit him now. He'd never let them return to this country if they did. Meanwhile, the rest of your force is on the banks, I presume.”

”Yes.”

”How many boats have you?”

”Ten.”

”Heavens! And this is the first day of the run! It looks bad, doesn't it?

Has the trap begun to fill?”

”No. George is down there now. I guess Marsh succeeded in corking it.

Meanwhile all the other plants are working while my c.h.i.n.ks are playing fan-tan.”

Cherry gazed curiously at her companion, to see how he accepted this latest s.h.i.+ft of fortune. She knew that it spelled disaster; for a light catch, with the tremendous financial loss entailed, would not only mean difficulty with Hilliard's loan, but other complications impossible to forecast. Her mind sped onward to the effect of a failure upon Boyd's private affairs. He had told her in unmistakable terms that this was his last chance, the final hope upon which hung the realization of his dreams.

In some way his power to hold Mildred Wayland was bound up with his financial success. If he should lose her, where would he turn? she asked herself, and something within her answered that he would look for consolation to the woman who had stood at his shoulder all these weary months. Sudden emotion swept over her at the thought. What cared she for his success or failure? He was the one man she had ever known, the mate for whom she had been moulded. If this were his last chance, it promised to be the opportunity she had so long awaited; for once that other was out of his mind, Cherry felt that he would turn to her. She knew it intuitively, knew it from the light she had seen in his eyes that night at her house, knew it by the promptings of her own heart at this moment. She began to tremble, and felt her breast swelling with a glad determination; but he interrupted her flight of fancy with a sigh of such hopeless weariness that her pity rose instinctively. He gave her a sad little smile as he said:

”I seem to bring misfortune upon every one connected with me, don't I? I'm afraid I'm a poor sort.”

How boyish he was, the girl thought tenderly, yet how splendidly brave he had been throughout the fight! There was a voiceless, maternal yearning in her heart as she asked him, gravely:

”If you fail now, it will mean--the end of everything, will it not?”

”Yes.” He squared his tired shoulders. ”But I am not beaten yet. You taught me never to give up, Cherry. If I have to go back home without a catch and see Hilliard take this plant over, why--I'll begin once more at something new, and some day I will succeed. But I sha'n't give up. I'll can what salmon we catch and then begin all over again next season.”

”And--suppose you don't succeed? Suppose Hilliard won't carry you?”

”Then I shall try something else; maybe I shall go to mining again, I don't know. Anyhow, _she_ would not let me grow disheartened if she were here, she wouldn't let me quit. She isn't that sort.”

Cherry Malotte stirred and s.h.i.+fted her gaze uncertainly to the gleaming bay. Abreast of them the fleet of fis.h.i.+ng-boats were drifting with the tide; in the distance others were dotted, clear away to where the opal ocean lay. A tug was pa.s.sing, and she saw the sun flash from the cargo in its tow, while the faint echo of a song came wafting to her ears. She stood so for a long moment, fighting manfully with herself, then wheeled upon him suddenly. There was a new tone in her voice as she said:

”If you will let me have one of your launches, I may be able to help you.”

”How?” he demanded, quickly.

<script>