Part 15 (1/2)

A little pale suns.h.i.+ne shone down into the opening between the great cedar trunks when Laura Waynefleet walked out of the shadowy Bush. The trail from the settlement dipped into the hollow of a splas.h.i.+ng creek, just in front of her, and a yoke of oxen, which trailed along a rude jumper-sled, plodded at her side. The sled was loaded with a big sack of flour and a smaller one of sugar, among other sundries which a rancher who lived farther back along the trail had brought up from the settlement in his waggon. Waynefleet's hired man was busy that morning, and as her stores were running out, Laura had gone for the goods herself. Other women from the cities have had to accustom themselves to driving a span of oxen along those forest trails.

The beasts descended cautiously, for the slope was steep, and Laura was half-way down it when she saw that a man, who sat on the little log bridge, was watching her. He was clearly a stranger, and, when she led the oxen on to the bridge, tapping the brawny neck of one with a long stick, he turned to her.

”Can you tell me if Waynefleet's ranch is near here?” he asked.

Laura glanced at him sharply, for there was no doubt that he was English, and she wondered, with a faint uneasiness, what his business was. In the meanwhile the big, slowly-moving beasts had stopped and stood still, blowing through their nostrils and regarding the stranger with mild, contemplative eyes. One of them turned its head towards the girl inquiringly, and the man laughed.

”One could almost fancy they wondered what I was doing here,” he remarked.

”The ranch is about a mile in front of you,” said Laura in answer to his question. ”You are going there?”

”I am,” said the man. ”I want to see Miss Waynefleet. They told me to ask for her at the store.”

Laura looked at him again with some astonishment.

He was a little man, apparently about fifty, plainly dressed in what appeared to be English clothing. Nothing in his appearance suggested that he was a person of any importance, or, indeed, of much education, but she liked the way in which he had laughed when the ox had turned towards her.

”Then,” she replied, ”as that is my name, you need not go any further.”

The man made a little bow. ”Mine's Wisbech, and I belong to the Birmingham district, England,” he explained. ”I walked over from the settlement to make a few inquiries about a relative of mine called Derrick Nasmyth. They told me at the store that you would probably know where he is, and what he is doing.”

Laura was conscious of a certain resentment against the loquacious storekeeper. It was disconcerting to feel that it was generally recognized that she was acquainted with Nasmyth's affairs, especially as she realized that the fact might appear significant to his English relative. It would scarcely be advisable, she decided, to ask the stranger to walk on to dinner at the ranch, since such an invitation would probably strengthen any misconceptions he might have formed.

”Mr. Nasmyth is expecting you?” she asked.

”No,” said Wisbech--and a little twinkle, which she found vaguely rea.s.suring, crept into his eyes--”I don't think he is. In all probability he thinks I am still in England. Perhaps, I had better tell you that I am going to j.a.pan and home by India. It's a trip a good many English people make since the C.P.R. put their new Empress steamers on, and I merely stopped over at Victoria, thinking I would see Derrick. He is, as perhaps I mentioned, a nephew of mine.”

There was a certain frankness and something whimsical in his manner which pleased the girl.

”You have walked from the settlement?” she asked.

”I have,” answered Wisbech. ”It is rather a long time since I have walked as much, and I found it quite far enough. A man is bringing a horse up to take me back, but I am by no means at home in the saddle.

That”--and he laughed--”is, I suppose, as great an admission in this country as I have once or twice found it to be at home.”

Laura fancied she understood exactly what he meant. Most of her own male friends in England were accustomed to both horses and guns, and this man certainly did not bear the unmistakable stamp that was upon his nephew.

”Then my father and I would be pleased if you will call at the ranch and have dinner with us,” she said, and continued a trifle hastily: ”Anyone who has business at a ranch is always expected to wait until the next meal is over.”

Wisbech, who declared that it was evidently a hospitable land, and that he would be very pleased, went on with her; but he asked her nothing about Nasmyth as they walked beside the plodding oxen.

Instead, he appeared interested in ranching, and Laura, who found herself talking to him freely and naturally, supplied him with considerable information, though she imagined once or twice that he was un.o.btrusively watching her. He also talked to Waynefleet and the hired man, when they had dinner together at the ranch, and it was not until the two men had gone back to their work that he referred to the object he had in hand.

”I understand that my nephew spent some time here,” he said.

Laura admitted that this was the case, and when he made further inquiries, related briefly how Nasmyth had first reached the ranch.

She saw the man's face grow intent, as he listened, and there was a puzzling look in his eyes, which he fixed upon her.

”So you took him in and nursed him,” he said. ”I wonder if I might ask why you did it? He had no claim on you.”

”Most of our neighbours would have done the same,” Laura answered.