The Silver Horde Part 55

Never before had Boyd known the least constraint in Mildred's presence, but now he felt the rebuke behind her careless manner, and it wounded him deeply. He did not speak, and after a moment she went on, with an abrupt change of subject:

"So that funny little house over there against the hill is where the mysterious woman lives?"

"Who?"

"Cherry Malotte."

"Yes. How did you learn that?"

"Mr. Marsh pointed it out. He said she came up on the same s.h.i.+p with you."

"That is true."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you write me that she was with you in Seattle?"

"I don't know; I didn't think of it." She regarded him coolly.

"Has anybody discovered who or what she is?"

"Why are you so curious about her?"

Mildred shrugged her shoulders. "Your discussion with Willis Marsh that night at our house interested me very much. I thought I would ask Mr.

Marsh to bring her around when we went ash.o.r.e. It would be rather amusing.

She wouldn't come out to the yacht and return my call, would she?" Boyd smiled at her frank concern at this possibility.

"You don't know the kind of girl she is," he said. "She isn't at all what you think; I don't believe you would be able to meet her in the way you suggest."

"Indeed!" Mildred arched her brows. "Why?"

"She wouldn't fancy being 'brought around,' particularly by Marsh."

From her look of surprise, he knew that he had touched on dangerous ground, and he made haste to lead the conversation back to its former channel. He wished to impress Mildred with the fact that if he had not quite succeeded, he had by no means failed; but she listened indifferently, with the air of humoring an insistent child.

"I wish you would give it up and try something else," she said, at last.

"This is no place for you. Why, you are losing all your old wit and buoyancy, you are actually growing serious. And serious people are not at all amusing."

Just then Alton Clyde and a group of people, among whom was Willis Marsh, emerged from the cabin, talking and laughing. Mildred arose, saying:

"Here come the Berrys, ready to go ash.o.r.e."

"When may I see you again?" he inquired, quickly.

"You may come out this evening."

His eyes blazed as he answered, "I shall come!"

As the others came up, she said:

"Mr. Emerson can't accompany us. He wishes to see father."

"I just left him in the cabin," said Marsh. He helped the ladies to the ladder, and a moment later Emerson waved the party adieu, then turned to the saloon in search of Wayne Wayland.

In Mr. Wayland's stiff greeting there was no hint that the two men had ever been friendly, but Emerson was prepared for coolness, and seated himself without waiting for an invitation, glad of the chance to rest his tired limbs. He could not refrain from comparing these splendid quarters with his own bare living shack. The big carved desk, the heavy leather chairs, the amply fitted sideboard, seemed magnificent by contrast. His eyes roved over the walls with their bookshelves and rare paintings, and between velour hangings he caught a glimpse of a bedroom all in cool, white enamel. The unaccustomed feel of the velvet carpet was grateful to his feet; he coveted that soft bed in yonder with its smooth linen. For all these things he felt the savage hunger that comes of deprivation and hards.h.i.+p.

Mr. Wayland had removed his gla.s.ses, and was waiting grimly.

"I have a good deal to say to you, sir," Emerson began, "and I would like you to hear me through."

"Go ahead."

"I am going to tell you some things about Mr. Marsh that I dare say you will disbelieve, but I can verify my statements. I think you are a just man, and I don't believe you know, or would approve, the methods he has used against me."

"If this is to be an arraignment of Mr. Marsh, I suggest that you wait until he can be present. He has gone ash.o.r.e with the women folks."

"I prefer to talk to you, first. We can call him in later if you wish."

"Before we begin, may I inquire what you expect of me?"

"I expect relief."

"You remember our agreement?"

"I don't want a.s.sistance; I want relief."

"Whatever the distinction in the words, I understand that you are asking a favor?"

"I don't consider it so."

"Very well. Proceed."

"When you sent me out three years ago to make a fortune for Mildred, it was understood that there should be fair play on both sides--"

"Have you played fair?" quickly interposed the old man.

"I have. When I came to Chicago, I had no idea that you were interested in the Pacific Coast fisheries, I had raised the money before I discovered that you even knew Willis Marsh. Then it was too late to retreat. When I reached Seattle, all sorts of unexpected obstacles came up. I lost the s.h.i.+p I had chartered; machinery houses refused deliveries; s.h.i.+pments went astray; my bank finally refused its loan, and every other bank in the Northwest followed suit. I was hara.s.sed in every possible way. And it wasn't chance that caused it; it was Willis Marsh. He set spies upon me, he incited a dock strike that resulted in a riot and the death of at least one man; moreover, he tried to have me killed."

"How do you know he did that?"

"I have no legal proof, but I know it just the same."

Mr. Wayland smiled. "That is not a very definite charge. You surely don't hold him responsible for the death of that striker?"

"I do; and for the action of the police in trying to fix the crime upon me. You know, perhaps, how I got away from Seattle. When Marsh arrived at Kalvik, he first tried to sink my boilers; failing in that, he ruined my Iron c.h.i.n.ks; then he 'corked' my fish-trap, not because he needed more fish, but purely to spoil my catch. The day the run started he bribed my fishermen to break their contracts, leaving me short-handed. He didn't need more men, but did that simply to cripple me. I got Indians to replace the white men, but he won them away by a miserable trick and by threats that I have no doubt he would make good if the poor devils dared to stand out.

"His men won't allow my fellows to work; we have had our nets cut and our fish thrown out. Last night we had a bad time on the banks, and a number of people were hurt. The situation is growing worse every hour, and there will be bloodshed unless this persecution stops. All I want is a fair chance. There are fish enough for us all in the Kalvik, but that man has used the power of your organization to ruin me--not for business reasons, but for personal spite. I have played the game squarely, Mr. Wayland, but unless this ceases I'm through."

"You are through?"