Part 10 (1/2)
”Well,” he said in a thoughtful voice, ”I was getting slack and loafing along the easy way, until you pulled me up. I owe you much for that. You forced me to ponder and I began to see loafing was dangerous. One must have an object and I looked about--”
He stopped, with some embarra.s.sment, and Laura saw he was moved. Jimmy did owe her something, for she had meddled at a moment when he was vaguely dissatisfied and looking for a lead. At the beginning, she was not selfish; she wanted him to stop and ponder, but he had started off again and was not going where she wanted him to go.
”You imply you have found an object?” she remarked. ”After all, one's object ought to be worth while, and to chop trees on a ranch will not carry you far. Perhaps your proper occupation is at the cotton mill.”
”I think not; anyhow, not yet. Until I'm twenty-five, d.i.c.k Leyland has control. d.i.c.k is a good mill manager, but his school is the old school.
He holds down our work-people and they grumble; the machinery's crowded and some is not safe; the operatives have not the s.p.a.ce and light that makes work easier. Then the office is dark and cold. One can't persuade d.i.c.k that harshness and parsimony no longer pay. Well, when I go back I must have power to put things straight. The house is famous, my father built its fortune, and after all I'm its head.”
Laura mused. She was poor, and hating poverty, had begun to weigh Jimmy's advantages. To marry the head of the famous house was a sound ambition, and she thought if she used her charm, Jimmy would marry her.
He was young and in some respects argued like a boy; Laura was young, but she argued like a calculating woman. Yet she hesitated.
”But you have some power,” she said and smiled. ”Besides, you're obstinate.”
”It's possible. All the same, I haven't tried my power and don't trust myself. d.i.c.k and I would jar, and when I couldn't move him I expect I'd get savage and turn down the job. When I have done some useful work, for example, cleared a ranch, got confidence and know my strength, I'll go back and try to take my proper part.”
”Does one get the qualities you feel you want at a bush ranch?”
”Jardine has got a number. At Kelshope all is properly planned and stubbornly carried out. His labor's rewarded, and the important thing is, he is satisfied. I'm not, and I admit I haven't much ground to be satisfied.”
”Oh, well,” said Laura. ”In a few days we start on our excursion to Puget Sound. I think you agreed to join us.”
Jimmy knitted his brows. He wanted to join the party, but saw some obstacles.
”We talked about it. If I agreed, of course, I'll go.”
”Because you agreed?”
”Not altogether. I'd like to go.”
”Then why do you hesitate? We want you to join us.”
”For one thing, I really don't think I did agree. Anyhow, you'll have Dillon. His home's on Puget Sound and I expect he's going.”
”Frank is rather a good sort, but sometimes he bores one,” Laura remarked carelessly. ”Besides, after a time he's going to some friends in Colorado.”
Jimmy's heart beat. Although he was not yet Laura's lover, her charm was strong. Still he ought to get to work, and if he went to Puget Sound with Laura, he might not afterwards bother about the ranch. Well, perhaps the ranch was not important; if he wanted, he could, no doubt, sell the land.
The clash of a locomotive bell, softened by the distance, echoed across the bush. A freight train had started from the water tank for the long climb to the pa.s.s and Jimmy felt the faint notes carried a message.
Canada was a land of bells. At Montreal the locomotive bells rang all night; their tolling rolled across wide belts of wheat, and broke the silence that broods over the rocks. When all was quiet in the bush, the cow-bells rang sweet chimes. Perhaps Jimmy was romantic, but he felt the bells stood for useful effort, and now they called. The strange thing was, he thought he heard pine branches crack and Margaret's voice. ”Oh, Buck! Oh, Bright!”
”I'm sorry, but I can't go,” he said. ”I have bought the ranch and must get to work.”
Laura gave him a keen glance and got a jar. He frowned and his mouth was tight. She had thought she could move Jimmy, but now she doubted, and because she was proud she dared not try.
”Oh, well,” she said, ”we have talked for some time, and Deering has left Jardine.”
She sent Jimmy off and looked about. Dillon talked to Margaret, and although Laura imagined a smile would detach him from the group, she did not smile. After all, if Frank joined her, Jimmy might occupy the chair he left. Laura crossed the terrace and joined a young Canadian.
Jimmy sat down by the rancher and inquired: ”Do you know the land I bought?”