The Rapids - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Rapids Part 8 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"Belding, you have done railway work. What does a standard gauge road cost in this country?"
"Where is the road to be built?" Belding displayed no surprise. The time for that had long pa.s.sed, and, he silently concluded, the presidency of a railroad would suit Clark admirably.
"Up the Magwa River."
"And the maximum grades?"
"Suitable for freight haulage to this point. We run with the water,"
added Clark with one of his rare smiles, "you ought to know that."
"About thirty thousand a mile," answered Belding steadily, the trouble being that when his chief's imagination took strong hold of him he was apt to diverge from the point.
"Then you will send out survey parties and get detailed estimates when the surveys are in."
"How far is the road to run? The head waters of the Magwa are one hundred and fifty miles from its mouth."
Clark's lips tightened a little. "As far as the pulp wood is good. I don't care how far that is--and, Belding--"
"Yes, sir."
"I have decided to double the size of the mill. Let me have plans and estimates for that too."
Belding went on, his head swimming, and walked slowly toward the head gates through which Lake Superior flowed obediently to do Clark's will.
It seemed now that his chief had reached the point where the G.o.d in the machine must make some grievous error. He was insatiable. Presently two figures approached. One was Judge Worden, the other a girl. The former waved his stick.
"We're going to see Mr. Clark. Elsie, this is Mr. Belding."
The girl smiled and put out a slim hand. "I've heard all about you--did you make all this?" Her brown eyes roved, taking in the great sweep of rising structures.
"In a way, yes," he laughed, "that is I did what I was told."
"Mr. Belding is chief engineer," put in the judge a.s.suringly.
She nodded. "You told me. I--I think it's rather wonderful. If anything had to happen to the rapids, this is just right."
Belding made no immediate answer. He was studying the girl's face, her supple figure, and the intelligence that marked every expression. It struck him that she was meant to be some man's comrade.
"I'm glad you like it," he said a little awkwardly, "there's lots more to come."
The judge touched Elsie's arm. "That's what I want to hear about at the block house, and I hope you'll have supper with us next Sunday, Mr.
Belding. I hear you are too busy for a weekday diversion."
Elsie smiled approval and they turned down the long embankment.
Belding looked after them with a shade of resentment. She was, he had decided, just like her photograph. In the distance he had seen Clark walking quickly towards his visitors. They met a hundred yards away and Clark's eyes began to twinkle.
"How do you do. I seem to know you quite well already."
Elsie flushed. She had pictured Clark in her romantic brain, but this trim figure resembled none of her expectations.
"I'm very sorry," he went on quickly, "that urgent business will keep me in the office all afternoon. I've just a few minutes."
"Then we'll be off at once," announced the judge.
"Not at all, if there's anything here to interest you, the place is yours."
Elsie glanced at him curiously. She was conscious both of disappointment and of a certain invitational thrill. His a.s.surance was not just what she had looked for, but yet it stimulated her thought.
He was very different from every one else. Decision marked him and a flash that was breathless seemed to reach her. Imagination lay in his quick change of expression and in the depths of the gray eyes. This was the man who dreamed great dreams.
"The next time you are up this way I hope you and your friends will come to the block house." He was looking at her with evident interest.
"You may not like it, but, I think you will,--it makes a background for this"; he pointed to the works, "and I find it restful. I live quite alone except for a j.a.panese cook, and," he added with a laugh, "he's part of the background."
Elsie accepted and, for an instant, caught Clark's full glance. In a fraction of time there pa.s.sed between them a swift and subconscious exchange of understanding that subsided almost ere it was born. Then he took off his hat and hastened towards his office.
For a little while she did not speak, for she was filled with the perception that between herself and this stranger lay something they held in common. Could it be imagination?
"What do you think of Mr. Belding?" asked the judge reflectively as he stepped round a shattered boulder.
Elsie started. "Why do you ask?"
The judge's brows went up. "Why shouldn't I?"
The girl pulled herself together with an effort. "I was thinking of something else when you spoke,--he seems very nice indeed."
"He has a good salary, a good position and a good future," hazarded the judge. "I'm glad you like him."
Later that evening, Belding turned homeward, his work finished, and, walking close to the sh.o.r.e, looked across the black river to the blaze of light at the works. On one side and low down he made out the glow from the block-house windows. He could imagine Clark at the piano.
But his chief had deserted the piano and given himself up to a rare hour of retrospect. He was under no misapprehension with regard to St.
Marys. The town was growing in jerky spurts, as the old inhabitants took on new courage, or new blood came in from outside. Filmer, who with the exception of Bowers and Belding, was closer to Clark than any of the rest, enlarged his store, and new shops began to appear nearer the rapids. Manson's premises were populated with an a.s.sortment from the small army of laborers at the works, and a new hotel was under construction. But, in the main, it was only by stress of business demands that any expansion was made. The strangers, who constantly appeared on the streets, ceased to be a cause of curiosity, and the folk of St. Marys left it to them to start new enterprises.
As to Clark, himself, he began to be almost invisible to the townspeople. There was nothing, after all, to bring him to town.
Others came to him. And ever the call of the rapids grew louder and more dominant in his active brain. Others slept when he was awake, and his imagination, caught up in a tremendous belief in the future of the country, explored the horizon for new avenues and enterprises, while the conclusions of his prophetic mind filled him with unfailing confidence. He had now achieved the ability to arrive intuitively at results reached by others after long and arduous labor. This faculty was one of his outstanding gifts, no less than his mesmeric and communicative influence.
VII.--THE BISHOP'S GARDEN PARTY--AND AFTERWARDS
Some three miles down the river from the blockhouse and on the east side of St. Marys lived the bishop. Of him it might be said that, like Clark's, his reputation extended far beyond the boundaries of this northern district. But between these two, so alike in their magnetic qualities, lay a substantial difference. Clark expressed himself in large undertakings and great physical structures, while the bishop worked in the hearts of men.
It was the custom of this most amiable prelate to give a garden party once a year, to which came most of the adult population of St. Marys.
The house, a square gray stone block, lay at the edge of the bush and around it was a s.p.a.cious lawn from which one could saunter through the vegetable garden and into the stable, and on this lawn, his hands clasped behind his back, his head bent forward in thought, the bishop might often be observed, a modern St. Francis, plunged in profound thought.
Now, looking contentedly at the groups around him, he concluded that never before had his party been so well attended. Dibbott and Filmer and Bowers were there with their wives, and young Belding with the Wordens. The Presbyterian minister and the Catholic priest were admiring the strawberries, and Manson's deep voice came from a cl.u.s.ter of men nearby. Most of the ladies wore spotless white dresses that crackled as they moved. In the study the bishop's desk was obliterated by dishes of strawberries and cream, and at the front gate the hired man took charge of the buggies and tethered the horses to the long fence of the pasture field. Three hundred yards away the river sparkled in a clear, light blue. It was all very bright and animated.
Presently the bishop caught the young engineer's eyes and beckoned.
"Mr. Belding," he said, smiling, "I'm aware that you're very much occupied just now with important things, but I've been wondering, just the same, if you'd help me with something."