Part 31 (2/2)
He looked at Nasmyth, and made a significant gesture. ”Unfortunately there are not at the moment more than a very few dollars at my disposal. The fact, you will recognize, is likely to hamper my efforts in an administrative capacity.”
”Precisely!” said Nasmyth. ”It is a matter I have provided for. You will be placed in possession of a holding of the size the others fixed upon as convenient when the blocks are divided off.”
”No larger?”
”No,” answered Nasmyth; ”I am afraid you will have to be content with that.”
Waynefleet went out, and Gordon turned to Nasmyth. ”It's going to cost you something,” he said. ”You can't charge it on the scheme. I'll divide it with you.”
There was a slight restraint in Nasmyth's manner. ”I'm afraid I can't permit it. It will be charged against my claim. Considering everything, it was a thing I felt I had to do.”
Then Wheeler, who had been quietly watching them, broke in.
”What did you put that image up for, anyway?” he asked.
Gordon smiled in a significant fas.h.i.+on. ”It's our friend's affair, and I guess he's not going to tell you why he did it. Still, in one sense, I 'most think it was up to him.”
Wheeler let the matter drop, and in a few more minutes they went out, and Nasmyth and Gordon turned into the trail that led to Gordon's ranch.
CHAPTER XXII
NASMYTH SETS TO WORK
It was a scorching afternoon on the heights above, where rocky slope and climbing firs ran far up towards the blue heavens under a blazing sun, but it was dim and cool in the misty depths of the canon. There was eternal shadow in that tremendous rift, and a savage desolation rolled away from it; but on this afternoon the sounds of human activity rang along its dusky walls. The dull thud of axes fell from a gully that rent the mountain-side, and now and then a ma.s.s of shattered rock came cras.h.i.+ng down, while the sharp clinking of the drills broke intermittently through the hoa.r.s.e roar of the fall. Wet with the spray of the fall, Nasmyth, stripped to blue s.h.i.+rt and old duck trousers, stood swinging a heavy hammer, which he brought down upon the head of the steel bar that his companion held so many times a minute with rhythmic precision. Though they changed round now and then, he had done much the same thing since early morning, and his back and arms ached almost intolerably; but still the great hammer whirled about his head, and while he gasped with the effort, came down with a heavy jar upon the drill. So intent was he that he did not notice the three figures scrambling along the narrow log-work staging pinned against the rocky side above the fall, until his companion flung a word at him. Turning with a start, he dropped his hammer.
He saw Gordon hold out a hand to Laura Waynefleet, who sprang down from the staging upon the strip of smooth-worn stone that stretched out from the wall of the canon above the fall. Wheeler was a few paces behind them. Nasmyth looked around for his jacket, and, remembering that he had left it in the gully, he moved forward to shake hands with his visitors.
”I scarcely expected to see any of you here. You must have had a hard scramble,” he said.
Gordon waved his hand. ”You don't say you're pleased, though after the trouble we've taken, it's a sure thing that you ought to be,” he declared. ”Anyway, I'm not going back up that gully until I've had supper. Wheeler's held up because his folks haven't sent him some machines, and I came along to see if I'd forgotten how to hold a drill. I don't quite know what Miss Waynefleet came for.”
Laura laughed good-humouredly. ”Oh,” she said, ”I have my excuse. My father is at Victoria, and I have been staying with Mrs. Potter for a day or two. She lent me a cayuse to ride over to Fenton's ranch, and the trail there leads close by the head of the gully.”
Mattawa looked up at Gordon with a grin. ”If you want to do some drilling, you can start right now,” he remarked. ”Guess Nasmyth doesn't know he has a back on him.”
Gordon took up the hammer, and, when Wheeler went back to the gully to inquire whether one of the men at work there would undertake some timber-squaring he wanted done at the mill, Laura Waynefleet and Nasmyth were left together. It was wetter than was comfortable near the fall, and, scrambling back across the staging, they sat down among the boulders near the foot of the rapid that swirled out of the pool.
Nasmyth looked at Laura, who smiled.
”I am afraid I have taken you away from your work, and I haven't Gordon's excuse,” she said. ”He, at least, is able to drill.”
Nasmyth laughed. ”I observe that Tom seems very careful of his hands,” he returned. ”As to the other matter, I am very glad you did come. After all, drilling isn't exactly a luxurious occupation; and while, as Tom remarked, I'm a little uncertain about my back, I'm quite sure I'm in possession of a pair of arms, because they ache abominably. Besides”--and his gaze was whimsically reproachful--”do you really think any excuse is needed for coming to see me?”
”In any case, I have one; there is something I want to say. You see, I have not come across you since the meeting at the settlement.”
”I suppose you object to your father taking any share in our crazy venture?”
<script>