Part 16 (2/2)
”I imagine I see,” Stannard rejoined. ”Well, perhaps Deering's a better sort than you think. He stated, rather generously, that he would lend me Frank, but if it's some comfort, I'll engage not to bother the young fellow.”
”You're a dear!” said Laura with a touch of emotion.
Stannard shrugged. ”I have not carried out my duty and you do not owe me much, but after all it was for your sake I sent you to your aunts.
Since your father was a bad model, I hoped your mother's sisters would help you to grow up like her. Well, since I long neglected you, I must not now put an obstacle in your way.”
”You are kind,” said Laura. ”Perhaps I'm cold and calculating. I know my shabbiness, but I did not love Jimmy and I think I do love Frank.”
She touched Stannard's arm gently and went into the hotel. A few moments afterwards, Dillon crossed the terrace and went up the steps. Stannard smiled, but by and by threw away his cigar and knitted his brows. He thought he need not bother about Laura, but he saw no plan for meeting his importunate creditor's demands.
XIII
THE DESERTED HOMESTEAD
Stannard and a party from the hotel were in the mountains, and Laura and Mrs. Dillon one morning occupied a bench on the terrace. Mrs. Dillon had arrived a few days since, and when Stannard returned Laura was going back with her to Puget Sound. Dillon, sitting on the steps, tranquilly smoked a cigarette. Laura had engaged to marry him and he had refused to join Stannard's rather ambitious excursion to a snow peak that had recently interested the Canadian Alpine Club. So far as Dillon knew, n.o.body had yet got up the mountain, and if its exploration occupied Stannard and Jimmy for some time, he would be resigned. Jimmy was his friend, but on the whole Frank would sooner he was not about.
”Two strangers went into the clerk's office some time since,” Laura said presently. ”One wore a sort of cavalry uniform. Do you know who they are?”
”One's a subaltern officer of the Royal North-West Mounted Police,”
Dillon replied. ”I expect the other's a small boss in the Canada forestry department, or something like that. Perhaps a careless tourist has started a bush fire.”
”They are coming out,” said Laura, and added with surprise: ”I think they want to see us.”
The men crossed the terrace and the young officer gave Laura an envelope.
”I understand you are Miss Stannard and this is your father's.”
Laura nodded agreement and studied the envelope. The address was Stannard's and at the top was printed, _Sports service. Taxidermy._
”Perhaps you had better open the envelope,” the officer resumed.
Laura did so and pulled out a bill. ”To preserving and mounting two big-horn heads-- To packing for s.h.i.+pment--”
The other man took the bill. He was a big brown-skinned fellow and his steady quiet glance indicated that he knew the woods.
”Sure!” he said. ”The charge for packing is pretty steep; but when you mean to beat the export-prohibition-- Well, I guess this fixes it!”
”What has Mr. Stannard's bill to do with you?” Laura asked in a haughty voice.
”To begin with, he can't s.h.i.+p those heads out of Canada. Then it looks as if he killed the big-horn on a government game reserve.”
”Your statement's ridiculous,” said Laura angrily. ”My father is an English sportsman, not a poacher.”
”Anyhow, he killed two mountain sheep not long since.”
”You cannot force Miss Stannard to admit it,” Dillon interrupted.
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