Delilah of the Snows Part 26

XVI

AN INVALID RECORD

Supper had just been finished, and Ingleby was lying, pipe in hand, beside the creek waiting until Leger should bring another load of wash-dirt from the mine. The sunlight was still pleasantly warm, the air filled with the balsamic odours of the pines, and there was a little smile of unalloyed content in Ingleby's face as he drank them in. Though he had toiled since morning, those few minutes would be the only rest he would enjoy until long after darkness closed in, and once more he indulged in visions of a roseate future as he made the most of them.

They had washed up each bucket-load as they brought it to the surface, and the result had made the richness of the mine increasingly plain.

Ingleby was getting accustomed to the fact that he was now, in all probability, at least, comparatively rich, and already his brain was occupied with half-formed projects. They did not include a further course of prospecting, for he had discovered that placer mines are addicted to playing out with disconcerting rapidity, and that in case of the deep lodes it is not as a rule the man who records the claim, but the capitalist or company-jobber, who takes the profit.

He would go back to civilization and embark on an industrial career, for there was, he fancied not altogether incorrectly, wealth awaiting the resolute and enterprising man with sufficient money who was willing to play his part in laying the foundations of the future prosperity of that rich land, and he had a young man's faith in his abilities which was in his case more or less warranted. Then when he had won a footing he would boldly ask Major Coulthurst for his daughter's hand. Social distinctions count for little in Western Canada, and, though the waiting would be hard, there was consolation in the thought that every bold venture would bring him so much nearer her. Ingleby was proud, and content to possess his soul in patience until he had shown that he could hold his own with his fellows and hew his own way to fortune.

It was, at least, a wholesome resolution, and there was behind it a vague partic.i.p.ation in the belief held by primitive peoples and proclaimed in courts in the days of chivalry, that man before he mated should be required to make his manhood plain by deeds accomplished and pain endured. It was not fitting, he felt, that the woman should give everything or stoop too far. He must have something to offer, as well as the ability to lift himself to her level; and through all there ran the desire of the democratic Englishman for an opportunity to prove himself at least the equal of those accounted his betters.

Before Leger reached him with the bucket there was a rustling in the tall fern behind him, and Tomlinson came out upon the bank of the creek.

He glanced at the little flag above the mine and the pile of debris at the water's edge, and then took up the pan Ingleby had laid down and dipped it in the stream. A whirl of it in his practised hand was enough for him.

"Yes," he said quietly, "I guess you've struck it rich!"

Ingleby laughed and handed him a little bag.

"I almost think we have. Feel that!" he said.

Tomlinson poised the bag in one hand, and then sat down with a little gesture of a.s.sent, for he was not by any means a demonstrative man.

"Well," he said, "it will make it easier for Hetty, and I'm glad of it.

Slaving away at that bakery isn't the kind of thing for her. It's going to the opera at Vancouver with the best of them she ought to be doing. I guess that would suit most young women quite as well as baking bread; but it's a little rough on me that Hetty Leger would sooner stay right where she is."

"What do you mean?" asked Ingleby.

"Tom knows," said Tomlinson, ruefully. "I haven't put it quite straight to Hetty. Just now, anyway, it wouldn't be any good. She's quite happy holding on to that blame bakery, though what she wants to do it for is more than I can figure. It can't be the money, because I've a claim back yonder that's turning out a pile of it every day, and she could have all she'd any use for."

Ingleby found himself in a position of some perplexity. He could not well admit that there was any reason why an honest man of excellent character, such as Tomlinson appeared to be, should not marry Hetty, and yet the mere probability of this was distasteful to him. It was, in fact, unpleasant to contemplate the possibility of Hetty's marrying anybody. He remembered that she had by no means displayed the satisfaction one would have expected when they found the gold, and from this it appeared that Tomlinson's suggestion that she was quite content to continue the bakery was warranted. It was, however, difficult to discover any reason for this, and he was still considering the question when Leger came up. Tomlinson turned to him.

"You kept the thing kind of quiet. Told n.o.body yet?" he said.

"Only one of the policemen. We were too busy to spend a good deal of the day coming over to let the boys know, though Ingleby was thinking of going across to-night. You have a good claim already, and you can't hold more than one, you know."

Tomlinson nodded. "That's quite right," he said. "It's kind of unfortunate Sewell isn't here. You don't know where he is?"

"No," said Ingleby. "He has been away for two days looking for a deer. I suppose anybody pegging off a claim next to ours would strike gold?"

"It's quite likely. He'd get the colour, sure, but when the creek that washed the metal out was running it dropped the heavy stuff only here and there. Anyway, the chances would be good enough, I figure. What policeman was it you told?"

"Probyn."

Tomlinson's face hardened suddenly. "Oh, yes!" he said. "He's quite often hanging around here."

It occurred to Ingleby now that the trooper in question had certainly found occasion to visit their mine or the bakery somewhat frequently, but just then the lad in question appeared and came up to them. He disregarded Tomlinson, who showed no sign of recognizing him, and looked at Ingleby.

"Major Coulthurst would be glad if you and Leger could find it convenient to see him now," he said.

"What does he want?" asked Leger sharply.

"I don't know," said the trooper. "I'm telling you what he said."

There was a curious silence for a moment or two, and Ingleby felt a little thrill of apprehension run through him. Then Tomlinson rose with sudden abruptness.

"I guess you've got to go. I'm coming along," he said.

"The Recorder did not mention you. If he'd been anxious for your company he probably would have done so," said the trooper drily.

Tomlinson looked at him with a little glint in his eyes, and then laid his hand on Ingleby's shoulder.

"I've played this game quite a long while, and I guess I know the pointers 'most as well as anybody," he said.

Ingleby said nothing, but his face became suddenly intent, and, though the pace they made was fast, he grew feverishly impatient as they swung along the trail to the Gold Commissioner's office. Coulthurst was awaiting them when they reached it and glanced at Tomlinson inquiringly.

"You have some business with me?" he said.

Tomlinson sat down uninvited, with a smile. "Well," he said, "the fact is, I don't quite know yet. When you've trouble with the Crown folks in the cities you can take a lawyer along. At this game I'm 'most as good as one."

Coulthurst made his indifference apparent by a gesture. "I don't suppose it matters. Will you sit down, Mr. Leger? There's a seat yonder, Ingleby."

Ingleby sat down, and, with a sinking heart, watched him open a book.

There was a difference in Coulthurst's manner. He was precise and formal and did not appear quite comfortable. One could almost have fancied that what he was about to do was distasteful to him.

"You left your claim on or about the twentieth of June, Ingleby," he said. "You did not return until--"

"Hold on!" said Tomlinson. "You've got to prove that. I guess there's no reason why you should admit anything, Walter."

Just then there were footsteps outside, and Ingleby looked up sharply as Esmond came in. He appeared a trifle disconcerted when he saw what was going on, and turned towards the door again.

"I didn't know you were busy, sir," he said.

"Sit down," and the major's tone was very dry. "I should prefer you to hear this affair with me. You remember on what day Mr. Ingleby left his claim?"

Tomlinson nodded. "That's the straight thing, Major," he said. "Keep him right there. I guess the insect's at the bottom of everything."

"We can dispense with your advice," said Coulthurst, chillingly, though there was a suggestion of a twinkle in his eyes.

In the meanwhile Ingleby looked at Esmond, and his face was a trifle pale, though a faint tinge of darker hue showed in the young officer's cheek. He was apparently not altogether free from embarra.s.sment. It was Ingleby who spoke.

"I have no doubt Captain Esmond remembers exactly when I left the claim, sir, and there is nothing to be gained by disputing over a day or two,"

he said. "I was away a good deal longer than the seventy-two hours the law permits."

"Which invalidates your t.i.tle!" said the major. "You failed to notify me or claim the privilege which under certain conditions I might have accorded you."

Ingleby, who had been anxious. .h.i.therto, but by no means dismayed, gasped.