Part 43 (2/2)
Acton went into the hotel with Hames, and there was an awkward silence when they had disappeared. Nasmyth leaned against a wooden pillar, and Waynefleet sat still, waiting for him to speak. Nasmyth turned to him.
”It would, perhaps, be preferable to regard this affair from a strictly business point of view,” said Nasmyth. ”You are, of course, in our hands, but to save your credit and to protect Miss Waynefleet from any embarra.s.sment, we shall probably not insist upon your handing over the land to anybody else. I think we are safe in doing that. Now that you have signally failed, you will not have nerve enough to attempt to betray us again.”
Waynefleet waved his hand. ”I resent the att.i.tude you have adopted. It is not by any means what I am accustomed to, or should have expected from you.”
Nasmyth felt a faint, contemptuous pity for the man, who still endeavoured to retain his formality of manner.
”I'm afraid that hasn't any great effect on me, and my att.i.tude is, at least, a natural one,” he said. ”I believe that Gordon and I can arrange that the boys do not hear of your recent action, and though you will take no further part in our affairs, you will stay on at the ranch. I may mention that I have just bought up your mortgage.”
A flush of anger showed in Waynefleet's cheeks.
”Is it in any way your business where I live?” he asked.
”No,” answered Nasmyth, ”not in the least--that is, as far as it affects yourself. Still, I am determined that Miss Waynefleet shall have no fresh cause for anxiety. I don't mind admitting that I owe a great deal to her.” He paused for a moment, and then turned to Waynefleet with a forceful gesture. ”When you have bought back the land from Hames, I don't suppose you will have a dollar in your possession, and the ranch belongs to me. As I said, you will stay--at least, until you can satisfy me that you can maintain yourself and Miss Waynefleet in some degree of comfort if you go away. Now I believe the others are waiting. We will go along and get the sale recorded.”
CHAPTER x.x.x
SECOND THOUGHTS
It was getting dusk when Wheeler swung himself from the saddle near the head of the gully and, with the bridle of the jaded horse in his hand, stood still a few moments looking about him. A wonderful green transparency still shone high up above the peaks, whose jagged edges cut into it sharply with the cold blue-white gleam of snow, but upon the lower slopes there was a balmy softness in the air, which was heavy with the odours of fir and cedar. Summer was breaking suddenly upon the mountain-land, but Wheeler, who had crossed the divide in bright suns.h.i.+ne, was sensible of a certain shrinking as he glanced down into the depths of the canon. A chilly mist streamed up out of it, and the great rift looked black and grim and forbidding.
Wheeler noticed a dusky figure beneath the firs, and, moving towards it, came upon a man with a pipe in his hand, sitting upon a fallen tree. In view of the strenuous activity that was the rule in the canon, such leisure was unusual.
”Well,” he remarked, ”you don't seem busy, any way.”
The man grinned. ”I'm looking out,” he replied. ”Guess I've had my eye on you for the last few minutes, and a stranger wouldn't have got quite so far. You haven't got any papers from the courts on you?”
”No,” said Wheeler, who noticed that there was a rifle lying near the man, ”I haven't. Still, if I'd looked like a lawyer or a court officer----”
”Then,” a.s.serted the man, ”it's a sure thing you wouldn't have got in.
The boys have enough giant-powder rammed into the heading to lift the bottom right out of the canon two minutes after any suspicious stranger comes along.”
Wheeler laughed, for it was evident to him that Nasmyth had been taking precautions, and, turning away, he led his horse down the gully. It grew colder as he proceeded, and a chilly breeze swept the white mist about him. The trees, that shook big drops of moisture down on him, were wailing, but he could hear them only faintly through the clamour of the fall. He left the horse with a man he came upon lower down, and, reaching the s.h.i.+ngle at the water's edge, saw the great derrick swing black athwart the glare of a big fire. The smoke whirled about the dark rock wall, and here and there dusky figures were toiling knee-deep amid the white froth of the rapid. The figures emerged from the blackness and vanished into it again, as the flickering radiance rose and fell. Scrambling to the ledge above the fall, Wheeler found two men standing near the mouth of the heading, which was just level with the pool.
”Where's Nasmyth, boys?” he inquired.
”Inside,” answered one of the men. ”Guess he's wedging up the heading.
If you want him, you'd better crawl right in.”
Wheeler glanced down at the black mouth of the tunnel, on which the streaming radiance fell. He fancied that the river flowed into it, and the man's suggestion did not appeal to him.
”Won't you tell him that I'd like a talk with him?” he asked.
The man laughed. ”Guess that's not going to bring him. It will be daylight, any way, before he lets up. You'll have to go right in.”
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