Prescott of Saskatchewan Part 31

They shut down when the frost came, but we figured we'd stay on, and took over part of the supplies. The boss had more truck than he could pack down to the other camps."

"Then there's n.o.body else about the place?"

"No, sir," said the first man; "they're all gone. It's kind of lonely, but we're doing some chopping for the road, and we'll be right here with money saved when work begins in spring. Bought a piece of fruit land, part on mortgage, at a snap, and with good luck we'll have it clear when we go back."

The short explanation supplied a clue to the characters of the men, who with an eye to the future preferred to face the rigors of the north rather than to spend the winter hanging round the saloons on the warmer coast.

"Well," inquired the other, "where did you come from?"

Prescott mentioned the last camp he had visited and gave them a few particulars about his journey.

"And so you came down the Long Bench--pretty tough proposition that! And kept the trail on short rations!" one of his hosts remarked. "Suppose you take a smoke, and I'll get supper a little earlier."

Before long he was given a share of a simple but abundant meal, and after it was over sat talking with his hosts. It was dark outside now, but although the men had run out of oil for the lamp, the fire gave them light, and pungent odors issued from the resinous logs. The room was warm and, by comparison with the frozen wilderness, supremely comfortable.

"What's the matter with your foot?" one of the men asked when Prescott took off his boot.

Prescott described how it felt, though he explained that he could find no sign of injury, and the other nodded.

"Ricked it a bit; got one of the ligaments or something kinked," he said.

"Known that happen when there wasn't much to show. You had better lie off for a while."

It occurred to Prescott that he might be in much worse quarters, though he shrank from the delay a rest would entail.

"What took you up the gully and over the Bench, anyway?" the man went on.

Prescott explained and then asked: "Have you come across my partner or the other fellow, Hollin?"

"Never seen your partner." The man looked at his comrade and laughed.

"But we know Hollin, all right. Got an idea that he's a boss prospector and froze on to the railroad job because it took him into the mountains.

Been all round looking for minerals; got fired for it at one or two camps, and never struck anything worth speaking of. It's a point on which he's certainly a crank."

It was characteristic of Kermode, Prescott thought, that he should be willing to accompany a man with a craze of the kind.

"I'd expected to find them here. I understood they didn't mean to go back to the camp at Butler Ridge," he said.

"We haven't seen their tracks, and if they were heading west, they'd have to come down this valley; but I guess n.o.body could tell where Hollin would make for. Of course, you can't prospect much in winter with everything frozen up and the snow about, but so long as he can trail through the mountains and find a few clean rocks the man will be happy; and I'll allow that he's smart at it. Knows how to fix a camp, and find a deer, if there's one in the country. It's a sure thing he'll have to strike for a camp or store sooner or later; but it's likely he has crossed the line south and is trying to make the Fraser and the settlements along the Canadian Pacific railroad."

It was bad news to Prescott. He knew enough about the Pacific Province to realize that if his host's suppositions were correct, he would have a vast area to search; a region of stony uplands, mountain chains, and rock-walled valleys.

"Would it be possible for me to get through?" he asked.

"No, sir! You don't want to think of it. Guess your partner will be pretty safe with Hollin; but you're a plainsman and you'd sure get lost in a day or two and starve when your grub ran out."

"That's right," agreed the other man. "The thing can't be done."

Prescott fell in with his opinion. It would, he thought, require a number of expert mountaineers to trace the men he sought through the desolation of rock and forest to the south. Besides, British Columbia was well populated along the Canadian Pacific line, from which many avenues of communication opened up, and there would be a strong probability of his missing Kermode.

"Well," he said reluctantly, "perhaps, I had better stop round here in case they keep this track; and my foot's too sore to let me move. Could you put me up for a week or two? I'll try to make it worth your while."

"Stop as long as you want," Steve responded. "We'll have to charge you for the grub, because we paid quite a pile for it, but we'll only strike you for your share."

"Thank you," said Prescott, and the others began to talk of Hollin.

"If that man would let up on prospecting he'd get rich," declared one.

"When a survey outfit goes up into the bush, Hollin's picked for the boss packer's job, and when there's a new wagon road to be staked out they generally put him on. A smart man at striking the easiest line through rough country."

"That's so," agreed Steve. "Trouble is that he can't stay with it. Soon as he collects some pay, he goes off on the prospecting trail, and then heads for Vancouver with a bag of specimens that aren't worth anything.

When the mineral men hear of a new Hollin discovery they smile. Guess he's found most everything--gold, copper, zinc, and platinum--and never made fifty cents out of them, 'cept once when, so the boys say, a mining company fellow gave him five dollars to promise he wouldn't worry him again. Now they've orders in all the offices that if Hollin comes round with any more specimens they're not to let him in."

Prescott laughed. The man he had heard described was Kermode's companion, and he could imagine their wandering up and down the province, one as irresponsible as the other; meeting with strange experiences, stubbornly braving the perils of the wilds; making themselves a nuisance to business men in the cities. The matter had, however, a more serious aspect.

Prescott had spent some time on the useless search and he could not continue it throughout the winter. It would be futile to speculate on the movements of men so erratic as those he had followed. He could not neglect his farm, and he had a heavy crop to haul in and sell: this was a duty that must be attended to.

If he went back without Jernyngham, and Curtis still clung to his theory, the police might give him trouble; but he must run that risk. Though convinced of it, he had no means of proving that Jernyngham was wandering through British Columbia in company with a crazy prospector.

After a while he grew drowsy and got into the bunk, where he lay down, enjoying the warmth and softness of the spruce twigs until he went to sleep.

CHAPTER XIX

PRESCOTT'S RETURN

It was Sat.u.r.day evening, clear and cold, though the frost was not intense. A number of the farmers and their wives had driven in to Sebastian to meet their friends and make their weekly purchases. A row of light rigs stood outside the livery-stable, voices and laughter rose from the sidewalks; the town looked cheerful and almost picturesque with its roofs and tall elevator towers cutting against the soft night sky.

A full moon hung above them, but its silvery radiance was paled by other lights. Warm gleams shone out from the store windows upon the hard-trodden snow; a train of lighted cars stood at the station, and the intense white glare of the head-lamp mingled with the beam flung far across the prairie by a freight locomotive on a side-track. Groups of people strolled up and down the low platform, waiting to see the train go out, and their voices rang merrily on the frosty air. From one of the great shadowy elevators there came a whirr of wheels.

When the train rolled away into the wilderness, Muriel Hurst entered the hotel and went upstairs to the parlor where Colston and her sister were sitting. The room was furnished in defective taste, but it was warm and brightly lighted, and the girl had got accustomed to the smell of warm iron diffused by the stove and the odor of burning kerosene. Colston occupied an easy-chair, and when Muriel took off her furs he looked up with a smile, noticing the fine color the nipping air had brought into her face. She looked braced and vigorous, but it struck him that she wore a thoughtful expression.

"Did you buy all you wanted?" he asked.

"I got what I came for." Muriel sat down and handed her sister a parcel.

"I think that ought to match. Has Harry been lounging there since supper?

Isn't he the picture of comfortable laziness?"

Colston laughed. He was still very neatly dressed, but he looked harder than he had when he first reached the prairie and his face was brown.

"I'm content, and that's a great thing," he rejoined. "Indeed, I'll confess that I could enjoy our stay here, except for the damping effect of our friends' trouble. It's astonis.h.i.+ng how little one misses the comforts we insist on in England, and I'm coming to take an interest in the visits we pay among the ranches and our weekly trip to Sebastian.

Then n.o.body could maintain that your sister looks any the worse for her experience. I'm beginning to think she might pa.s.s for a wheat-grower's wife."

"I heard Mrs. Johnson ask when you were going to take a farm," Muriel retorted. "It would be difficult to imagine you tramping down a furrow behind a plow or driving one of those smelly gasoline tractors; but you'll be able to pose before your const.i.tuents as an authority on colonial questions when you go home."

"I'm afraid they'll throw me over unless they see me soon; but there's nothing else to take me back, and I'd feel we were deserting our friends in their distress."

"We can't leave them yet," Mrs. Colston broke in. "The suspense is preying upon Jernyngham. He's getting dangerously moody; I know Gertrude feels anxious about him."

A curious expression crept into Muriel's eyes.