Part 30 (1/2)

He sat still for a moment or two, with a curious look in his face; for he had called at the hotel Acton's party had visited on the night that he had endeavoured to crawl un.o.bserved on board the _Tillic.u.m_. He had no difficulty in discovering that Mrs. Acton and Miss Hamilton had spent the night there, which made it evident that the girl could not have been on board the steamer. He had, however, not made the inquiries until business took him to the hotel several weeks afterwards, and Acton's manner, when they met in the city, convinced him that the schooner men had been communicative. On thinking the matter over, it became clear that Nasmyth and the skipper had played a trick on him; and, since it had cost him Mrs. Acton's good-will, without which he could not approach Miss Hamilton, he cherished a bitter grievance against Nasmyth.

”Well,” he inquired, ”in case he tries to raise the money elsewhere, what do you suggest?”

”I guess we'll let him try,” answered Hutton. ”He's not going to raise much when things are humming and every man with capital is putting it into mines and mills. Besides, the work in the canon's evidently a big undertaking, and it's going to run into a long bill for labour. A thing of that kind usually costs four times as much as the man who starts it figures. Well, we'll leave him to it, and when his money runs out we'll chip in.”

Martial laughed. ”That's very much my notion. Let him do the work, and then jump in and put up our dummies to locate all the land he can't take hold of. Once we get a ranch or two recorded, there would be a dozen ways we could get a grip on him. Between us and Charters, we ought to break him.”

They smiled at each other, but in a moment or two Hutton looked thoughtful again.

”You want to understand,” he said, ”it's not my business to break Nasmyth. It's the money I'm out for. In fact, if there's an easier way than the one I suggested, I'm going to take it; and with that in view, I'll send up a man or two I can rely on to investigate.”

”If they get crawling round that canon and up and down the valley, it will set the blame settlers talking. We want the thing run quietly,”

Martial cautioned.

”I guess it can be done,” replied Hutton. ”They'll go camping out for pleasure. In fact, to make the thing more like it, I'll send them fis.h.i.+ng.” Martial rose. ”Anyway,” he said, ”I'll leave it with you in the meanwhile.”

CHAPTER XXI

THE MEN OF THE BUSH

A cool shadow fell upon the descending trail that wound in among the towering firs, and Nasmyth checked his jaded horse as he entered on the last league of his long ride from the railroad. The red dust had settled thick upon his city clothes, and for the first time he found the restraint of them irksome. The band of his new hat had tightened unpleasantly about his forehead, and in scrambling up the side of the last high ridge which he had crossed, one neatly-fitting boot had galled his foot, while he smiled with somewhat sinister amus.e.m.e.nt as he felt the grip of the tight jacket on his shoulders. These were, as he recognized, petty troubles, and he was rather astonished that he should resent them, as he certainly did. He remembered that a little while before he had made no complaint against the restraints of civilization, and had, indeed, begun to shrink from the prospect of going back to the untrammelled life of the wilderness.

But, as he straightened himself in his saddle and gazed down the deep valley through which the trail twisted, he felt the shrinking melt away. After all, there was something in the wilderness that appealed to him. There was vigour in the clean smell of it, and the little breeze that fanned his face was laden with the scent of the firs. The trees rolled away before him in sombre battalions that dwindled far up the rocky sides of the enfolding hills, and here and there a flood of sunlight that struck in through the openings fell in streams of burning gold upon their tremendous trunks. Beyond them the rugged heights rose, ma.s.s on ma.s.s, against the western sky.

He rode into the shadow, and, though he thought of her, it was curious that Violet Hamilton seemed to become less real to him as he pushed on down the valley. He vaguely felt that he could not carry her with him into the wilderness. She was a part of the civilization upon which he had once more, for a time at least, turned his back, and he could not fit her into the environment of that wild and rugged land. Indeed, he remembered with a compa.s.sionate tenderness how she had shrunk from it and clung to him--a forlorn, bedraggled object, in her tattered dress--the day they floundered through the dripping Bush, and he subconsciously braced himself for conflict as he thought of it. The sooner his work was over, the sooner he could go back to her; but there was, as he remembered, a great deal to be accomplished first.

Wrapped in thought as he was, he was surprised when he saw a faint blue cloud of wood-smoke trailing out athwart the sombre firs in the hollow beneath him. Then two figures became visible, moving upwards along the strip of trail, and he drove the jaded horse forward as he recognized them. He lost sight of them for a few minutes as he turned aside to avoid a swampy spot, but when he had left it behind they were close ahead in the middle of the trail, and it was with a thrill of pleasure that he swung himself stiffly from the saddle.

With a smile on his bronzed face, Gordon stood looking at him. Gordon was dressed in soil-stained garments of old blue duck, with a patch cut from a cotton flour-bag on one of them. Laura Waynefleet stood a little nearer, and there was also a welcome in her eyes. Nasmyth noticed how curiously at home she seemed amidst that tremendous colonnade of towering trunks. He shook hands with her, but it was Gordon who spoke first.

”You have come back to us. We have been expecting you,” he said.

”After all, store clothes and three well-laid meals a day are apt to pall on one.”

Nasmyth turned to Laura. ”I should like to point out that this is the man who urged me to go,” he said. ”One can't count on him.”

”Oh, yes,” admitted Gordon, ”I certainly did urge you, but I guess I knew what the result would be. It was the surest way of quieting you.

Anyway, you don't seem sorry to be back again?”

Nasmyth glanced at Laura.

”No,” he said; ”in some respects I'm very glad.”

He became suddenly self-conscious as he saw Gordon's significant smile. It suggested that he had, perhaps, made too great an admission, and he wondered for the first time, with a certain uneasiness, whether Gordon had mentioned Miss Hamilton to Laura, and, if that was the case, what Miss Waynefleet thought about the subject.

Laura talked to him in her old friendly fas.h.i.+on as they walked on towards the settlement, until Gordon broke in.

”I've called the boys together, as you suggested, and fixed up the meeting for to-night,” he said. ”They'll be ready to give you a hearing, after supper, in the hotel.”