Part 32 (1/2)

”It is not all,” Jimmy declared. ”When we went up the hill in the evening, I asked you to marry me and you promised----”

”I promised we would talk about it,” said Margaret. ”Before you start from Peter's we will do so; but since you must start soon, we'll go on.”

Jimmy saw he could not move her, and they went down the hill. At the ranch fence a man met them and took them to the house. When they went in a woman got up, kissed Margaret, and gave Jimmy a smile. So far as he could see, Mrs. Jardine and her husband did not think it strange he had arrived with Margaret, and he was somewhat comforted, although he noted that Margaret's color rose. Margaret knew her relations. They were primitive, honest folk, and took it for granted Jimmy was her lover.

”Sit right down. Dinner will soon be ready,” said Peter Jardine. ”How's the old man? Give us your news.”

Jimmy narrated his and Margaret's adventures and, until he stopped, his hosts said nothing. It did not look as if they were disturbed, but they were bush folk and the bush is quiet. For all that, Jimmy felt they owned themselves Margaret's relations and for her sake were willing to help him out.

”The trapper's old shack is the spot for you,” Peter remarked. ”After dinner we'll start. Margaret must stay with us.”

Margaret agreed, but Jimmy objected.

”Margaret is going with me to the Mission. The police will soon arrive.”

”I reckon they don't know her, and they don't know how many womenfolk I've got. When she puts on Sadie's clothes, she'll look as if she belonged to the ranch. Maybe the police haven't found your trail; but we mustn't bet on that.”

Margaret went off with Sadie and Jimmy speculated about their talk. By and by he turned to his host.

”I'm going to marry your cousin when she is willing.”

”Sure,” said Peter. ”You reckoned to get married at the Mission?”

”That is so. So far, Margaret refuses.”

Peter knitted his brows. ”Sometimes I don't see what Sadie gets after and I sure can't calculate Margaret's notion. Women beat me. All the same, it's plain she thinks you a white man, and Margaret's not a fool.

Now we'll let it go. Say, did you plug the warden?”

”It looks like that,” Jimmy replied. ”However, if I did hit the fellow, I didn't know I was shooting at a man.”

”Very well! You can't get down the main track to the coast, because the police will reckon on your going there and watch the stations. I'd make for the plains and then shove south for Montana.”

”That was Stannard's plan.”

Peter smiled scornfully. ”You were to cross the rocks and carry your grub and camping truck? Shucks! An old-time prospector might make it; you could not. You've got to lie up at the trapper's shack until we look about. Maybe we can fix it to s.h.i.+p you out of the mountains on board a construction train that sometimes runs down to a station on the Calgary side. Well, let's make our packs and catch the horse.”

They got to work and after the horse was caught, Peter turned back to the house, but Jimmy stopped. ”I must talk to Margaret for a few minutes,” he said.

Margaret came out to him. Her look was quiet but he knew her resolute.

”When dinner's over, Peter and I must start,” he said. ”You refused to go to the Mission. I want to know what this implies.”

Margaret gave him a level glance. ”Isn't it plain, Jimmy? You know my father, and now you have met my relations. They are not your sort.”

”So far as I know, they're a remarkably good sort,” Jimmy rejoined.

”Besides, in a way, I am their sort. My grandfather was a mill hand; my father borrowed a small sum, and started with cheap machinery to spin cotton at a little old-fas.h.i.+oned mill. He was frugal and laborious; in fact, he prospered because he had your bushman's qualities. I have loafed and squandered, but after a time I felt I'd had enough and began to see I'd inherited something from the people who made Leyland's go.

Then, if we must talk about our relations, you don't know my uncle d.i.c.k.

Well, I've stated something like this before, but it's my reply to your argument.”