The Mistress of Bonaventure Part 40

"We won't question the statement," said Haldane. "It was, at least, an accident that you were quick to profit by. This ace, however, takes the trick. Just run through this account book, and--remembering that we can produce Miss Redmond, and three men, who will swear to what her father said when Ormesby's cattle, which did not get there by accident, were burned in the fence--consider what might be done with it."

Lane seemed to shake himself together after he had read the first few entries; while, watching him closely, I once more saw the tell-tale contraction at the corners of his mouth. This was the only sign he made, however, save that presently he moved forward a little in his chair, which was close before the fire, and held up the torn-out page as though he wished the lamplight to fall on it more directly. The action, which was made very naturally, suggested nothing to myself or even to Haldane; but when the reader moved again, Boone rose suddenly and laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"You have had time enough to grasp the significance of what is written there, and I'll take the papers back," he said. "Of course, knowing whom we dealt with, we have a duly attested copy."

I do not know whether Lane had actually intended to destroy part at least of the dead man's testimony or not, but he was capable of anything, and the fire was hot. In any case, he calmly handed book and paper back to Boone with the careless comment: "You thought of that?

Must be considerably smarter than you used to be."

"Yes," said Boone dryly, "I have learned a good deal since I first met you. We will now, with Mr. Haldane's concurrence, give you five, or, if necessary, ten, minutes in which to consider your decision."

Without being in the least sorry for him, I fancied I could understand Lane's feelings, and his state of mind could not have been enviable. It is true that Haldane's offer allowed him a fair return for all sums invested, perhaps almost as much as he would have obtained by legitimate enterprise; but that must have been as nothing to the man who had schemed for a fortune, while one could have fancied that he found it inexpressibly galling to discover that those whom he had considered his helpless dupes now held him at their mercy. Yet he showed small sign of discomfiture, and his voice was steady as he said: "It's robbery; but I'm open to admit you have fixed the thing tolerably neatly. Suppose it was Dixon who gave you the pointers? This man here must have some grit, for he knows that even now I could make it hot for him. Do you know who he is?"

"I consider the terms are liberal, and we arranged the affair ourselves," said Haldane. "You could hardly expect Mr. Dixon to involve himself in what I'm afraid is virtually the compounding of a felony. It is also possible that some people would call our proceedings by unpleasant names, but you left us no choice of weapons. We might have squeezed you further, but I believe it's wise to leave a back way open for a beaten enemy. I am perfectly acquainted with Mr. Boone's history, and understand that now that his work is finished--for most of the scheme was his--he will surrender himself to the police. He does not, however, apprehend any trouble with them, because by the time he surrenders, the prosecutor will have removed himself across the frontier. Now, hadn't you better consider your decision?"

Lane sat still for at least five minutes, and I could see that some of the rest were not quite convinced that the battle was over. They had experienced such a taste of his quality that they probably expected some bold counter-move rather than submission. Nevertheless, the man was beaten, for at last he said: "It's your game. I must have the money down, and your solemn promise you'll make no use of what you know until I'm across the frontier."

"If you will meet me at Gordon's at noon to-morrow we'll settle the bill together," said Haldane quietly; and rose as if to signify that the interview was over.

Lane no longer looked jaunty, for, although he evinced no great dismay, there was a subtle change in him as he also rose and brushed the dust off his hat. "Everybody gets tripped up now and then, and must make the best of it," he said. "Quaint, isn't it, that it should be a man of Ormesby's kind who most helped to bring me up? Well, it seems I can't stay any longer with you, boys; but no one knows what may happen, and I'll try to square the deal with you if ever I come back again."

n.o.body answered him, and with a shrug of his shoulders he pa.s.sed out of the room; and though I fancied that was the last I should see of him, I was mistaken.

Then Boone said reflectively: "I wonder whether we have been too easy with him, sir. I can't help feeling, by the way he yielded, that the rascal has something up his sleeve."

Before our host could answer he was plied with congratulations and questions about the money for the redemption of the mortgages, and, raising his hand for silence, stood up, smiling at the men before him.

"I'll find part of it in the meantime, and there is the profit on the campaign fund you raised," he said. "You needn't be bashful, gentlemen.

I'm a business man, and will have no objection to charging you three or four per cent. more interest than the banks. It will, considering the prospects, be money sunk on good security. Now that we have got our stumbling block out of the way, I see possibilities for this district, and am presently going to ask you to form a committee to consider whether we can't put up a small flour mill or cooperative dairy."

He proceeded to sketch out a project with a vigor of conception and a grasp of practical details that astonished the listeners, who presently departed with sincere, if not very neatly expressed, grat.i.tude, and with hope and exultation in their weather-darkened faces. I tried to express my own sentiments and, I believe, failed, but Haldane smiled quaintly.

"Don't make any mistake, Ormesby. I'm not setting up as a public benefactor," he said. "One can't do absolutely nothing, and I don't quite see why I shouldn't earn a few honest dollars where I can. I dare say the others will profit, and I should prefer them as friends rather than enemies; but this scheme is going to pay me--in fact, as you say here--it has just got to."

CHAPTER XXIX

THE EXIT OF LANE

Early one evening, after Lane's capitulation, I sat in the hall at Bonaventure waiting its owner's return. Lucille Haldane occupied the window-seat opposite me, embroidering with an a.s.siduity which, while slightly irritating, did not altogether displease me. Since the wagon accident she had, in an indefinite manner, been less cordial, and I, on my part, was conscious of an unwonted restraint in her presence. It is unnecessary to say that she made a pretty picture with the square of still sunlit prairie behind her, though her face was tantalizingly hidden in shadow, and I could only admire the graceful pose of her figure and the lissom play of the little white fingers across the embroidery. The girl must have been sensible of my furtive regards, for at last she laid down the sewing and looked up sharply.

"Is there nothing among all those papers worth your attention, or have you taken an interest in embroidery?" she asked, pointing to the littered journals on the table. "Do you know that it is a little disconcerting to be watched when at work?"

I was uneasily conscious that my forehead grew hot, but hoped the hue that wind and sun had set upon it would hide the fact. "Don't you think the trespa.s.s was almost justifiable?" I said. "You are responsible for spoiling us; and unaccustomed prosperity must be commencing to make me lazy. I was thinking."

"That is really interesting," said the girl. "Has sudden prosperity also rendered you incapable of expressing your thoughts in speech?"

In this case, circ.u.mstances had certainly done so. I had been thinking how pretty and desirable the speaker looked; but the trouble was that, although silence cost me an effort, I could not tell her so. I hoped to say as much, and more besides, some day; but this moment was not opportune. Lucille Haldane was mistress of Bonaventure, and I as yet a struggling man, who, thanks to her good nature and her father's business skill, had barely escaped sinking into poverty. It would be time to speak when my position was a little more secure. Meanwhile, in spite of the sternly repressed longing and uncertainty which daily grew more painful, it was very pleasant to bask in the suns.h.i.+ne of her presence, and I dare not risk ending the privilege prematurely.

"I was thinking what a change has come over this part of the prairie," I said, framing but one portion of my thoughts into words. "Not long ago one saw nothing but anxious faces and gloomy looks, while now, I fancy, there is only one downcast man in all this vicinity, and he the one from whom your father and Boone have just parted. The change, considering that a single person is chiefly responsible, is almost magical; but, remembering a past rebuke, that hardly sounds very pretty, does it?"

Lucille Haldane laughed mischievously. "To one of the superior s.e.x; but are you not forgetting that this season the heavens fought for you? It certainly might have been more neatly expressed. Do you know that the education you mentioned is not yet quite finished?"

"I know there is much you could teach me if you would," I said, with a humility which was not a.s.sumed, choking down bolder words which had almost forced themselves into utterance; and perhaps the effort left its trace on me, for Lucille turned her head towards the prairie.

"Here is Sergeant Mackay. I wonder what he wants," she said.

Mackay, dusty and damp with perspiration, was ushered in a few minutes later, and for the first time I felt all the bitterness of jealousy as I saw the friendly manner in which the girl greeted Cotton, who followed him. There was nothing of the coquette in Lucille Haldane, and the knowledge of this added to the sting; but I did not think that even she was always so unnecessarily gracious. Mackay, however, appeared intent and grim, and by no means in a humor for casual conversation.

"I'm wanting your father and fresh horses at once, Miss Haldane," he said. "Ye had a visit from Lane yesterday?"

"We certainly had. What do you want with him?" asked Lucille. And Mackay smiled dryly when I added a similar question.

"Just his body, and your a.s.sistance as a loyal subject, Henry Ormesby.

Ye were once good enough to say ye could not expect too much from the police; but it's long since your natural protectors had eyes on the thief who was robbing ye. Niven, when he wasn't quite sober, told a little story, and there's another bit question of a debt agreement forgery. Ye will let us have the horses, Miss Haldane?"

Lucille bade them follow her, and I heard her giving orders to one of the hired men. Then she returned alone in haste to me. "You saw where my father put the book Miss Redmond gave him?" she said.

"Yes," I answered, wondering. "He locked it inside that bureau and put the keys into his pocket."

The girl wrenched at the handle, and I noticed by the creaking of the bureau how strong, in spite of her slenderness, she was. The lock would not yield, and she turned imperiously to me. "Don't waste a moment, but smash that drawer in!"

"It is a beautiful piece of maple, and why do you wish to destroy it?" I said, and, for she had a high spirit, fancied Lucille Haldane came near stamping one little foot impatiently.

"Can you not do the first thing I ask you without asking questions?" she said.

There was nothing more to be said, and stooping for the poker, I whirled it around my head. One end of the bar doubled on itself, but the front of the drawer crushed in, and when I had wrenched out the fragments, Lucille drew forth the book.

"I know what my father promised, and there is Miss Redmond to consider.

She has suffered too much already," she said, tearing out whole pages in hot hurry. "Sergeant Mackay is much less foolish than I once heard you call him, and I have no doubt suspects something of this. Can't you see that he could force us to give the papers up? I am going to burn them."

"That at least you shall not do," I said, taking them from her with as much gentleness as possible, but by superior force, and then positively quailed before the anger and astonishment in the girl's face.

"You are still so afraid of Lane that you would risk bringing fresh sorrow on that poor girl in order to protect yourself?" she said, with biting scorn.

"No," I answered stolidly, without pausing for reflection. "I only wish to declare it was I who destroyed this evidence, if there is any trouble over the affair."

I tore the book to pieces and rammed the fragments deep among the burning logs as I spoke, and when this was accomplished I did not look up until Lucille Haldane called me by name. Gentle as she could be, I had a wholesome respect for her wrath.

"I deserved it," she said, with a bewitching deepening of the crimson in her cheeks and a s.h.i.+ning in her eyes. "You will forgive me. I had not time to think."

Thereupon I longed for eloquence, or Boone's ready wit; but no neat speech came to my relief, and while I racked my clouded brains the girl must have guessed what was taking place, for merriment crept into her eyes. Then, just as an inspiration dawned on me, as usual, too late, a hurried tread drew nearer along the pa.s.sage.

"It is Sergeant Mackay, and he must not come in here," said my companion with a nervous laugh, as she glanced at the shattered bureau. "Is it quite impossible for you to hurry?" Then before I realized what was happening, she had placed one hand on my shoulder and positively hustled me out of the door. Hardly knowing what I did, I clutched at the little fingers, and missed them, and the next moment I plunged violently into the astonished sergeant.

"Mr. Ormesby is ready, and so are the horses. I hope your chase will be successful," a voice, which sounded a little uneven (though there was a trace of laughter in it) said, and the door swung to.