Northwest! Part 30

"If you want Frank, he's your man and he might be useful," he remarked.

"Then I reckon Miss Laura's willing for him to help. Your friends are good."

"That is so," said Jimmy, looking at Deering hard. "My friends are better than I deserve. But what about Douglas? Did you find out much?"

Deering admitted that he did not, but when he talked about Neilson he used some caution. Since Jimmy trusted Stannard, there was no use in trying to warn him; some time he would get enlightenment.

"On the whole, I think the police knew I was at Vancouver," he said.

"Their plan was to hit my trail when I started back. I don't expect they did so, but it's possible. Anyhow, now the Indian's gone, and a cold snap threatens, we have got to quit. My plan's to start for your ranch."

"The ranch is not far from the railroad."

"Its being near the track has some advantages. Since the police searched the spot, I guess they're satisfied. Then we want food, and packing supplies for a long distance is a strenuous job. The Indian could move a useful load, but to carry fifty pounds across rocks and fallen trees makes me tired."

"A rifle, a blanket, and twenty pounds is my load," said Jimmy and resumed in a thoughtful voice: "Yet I started for the plains----"

Deering used some control and let Jimmy's remark go.

"You could not have made it," he said quietly. "But what about our jumping off?"

"We'll talk about it again," Jimmy replied. "I suppose we must go, but now you're back, I don't want to bother. You brace me up. Until I heard your step, I felt down and out."

He threw fresh wood on the fire, and soon afterwards they went to sleep.

Jimmy's sleep was broken, and when he woke at daybreak he s.h.i.+vered. He did not want to get up, but he must fetch water. The kettle handle stung his skin, the pools on the creek were frozen, and he saw the snow had moved five or six hundred feet down the rocks. Rose-pink light touched the high peaks and h.o.a.r frost sparkled on the pines, but the stern beauty of the wilds was daunting. Jimmy wanted the deep valleys up which the soft Chinook blew.

When he went back, Deering was occupied at the fire. He looked up and remarked with a twinkle: "The cold is pretty fierce. If we're going to stay, you'll want a skin coat and another blanket."

"When we have got breakfast we'll start for the ranch," Jimmy replied.

XXIII

MARGARET TAKES A PLUNGE

For a time Jimmy was not disturbed at the ranch. On the high rocks the frost was keen, but in the deep valley a gentle wind from the Pacific melted the snow. Jimmy dared not order sawed lumber, but Jardine got him a door and windows and the house was warm. Sometimes he went shooting and sometimes he went to Kelshope. Jardine was friendly, but when the rancher had gone to look after his stock Jimmy was resigned. To sit by the fire and talk to Margaret was a delightful occupation.

At the beginning he had remarked her beauty, but now he knew beauty was not all her charm. Margaret was clever; she saw his point of view, and when she did not agree her argument was logical and keen. Then she was proud and fearless, and he sensed in her something primitive. Margaret was his sort and sprang from stock like his. Yet he felt her physical charm. Her eyes were sea-blue, and in the firelight her hair was like red California gold. She had a bushman's balance, and her unconscious pose was Greek. Although she was frank, with something of a great lady's frankness, Jimmy soon knew her fastidious.

But for his part in the shooting accident, his satisfaction would have been complete. It looked as if the police had resolved to leave him alone, and Deering had made one or two excursions to the cities, but Jimmy doubted. He knew the Royal North-West do not forget. Moreover, somebody shot Douglas, and on the whole he thought he had done so.

Sometimes he wondered whether he ought to go to Kelshope, but all the same he went.

When Deering was at Calgary, Margaret one afternoon rode home from the station as fast as possible. At the ranch she took down the load of groceries but left the horse tied to a post. Jardine was by the fire and had pulled off his boot. In the morning he had cut his foot with his ax.

He gave Margaret a keen glance and saw she had ridden fast.

"Weel?" he said. "Is something bothering ye?"

"Two troopers and their horses came in on the freight train. I expect they're looking for Mr. Leyland."

"Ah," said Jardine. "Somebody has given the lad away."

"Bob," said Margaret and her eyes sparkled.

Jardine knitted his brows. "Maybe, but I dinna ken; Bob hasna been around for long. Did the troopers saddle up?"

"When I left, they were cinching on their camp truck. I thought they'd soon start. Mr. Leyland can't come down the valley and Deering's not with him. Where is he to go?"

"If he could make Green Lake, Peter would put him on the Mission trail."

"He cannot make Green Lake," Margaret rejoined. "He doesn't know the bench country and must start in the dark."

"Jimmy must start soon. If he stays, the troopers will get him," Jardine agreed, and indicated his cut foot. "Somebody must warn the lad, but I canna gang."

Margaret tried to brace up, for she had not reckoned on her father's lameness. The strange thing was, Jardine had walked some distance to round up his cattle. She must, however, weigh this again. Speed was important and Jimmy was her friend; in fact, she had begun to think him her lover.

"You could ride the cayuse and carry the packs. If Mr. Leyland was not loaded he could make a good pace."

"The cayuse wouldna carry a weight like mine across the bench belt and Green Lake's a two-days' hike. I canna walk; I doubt if I could get on my boot," Jardine replied, and added with philosophical resignation: "It's a pity o' the lad! I expect the police are noo on the ranch trail, but I dinna see how we can help."

Margaret clenched her hands. Somebody must warn Jimmy and her father declared he could not. She looked at him hard and knew he could not be moved. He gave her an apologetic glance and began to fill his pipe, as if the thing was done with. Yet it was not done with. Margaret saw, rather vaguely because she refused to think about it, all her going to warn Jimmy implied, since if her help was to be useful, she must go with him to Green Lake. For a few moments she hesitated, but she was generous and her pluck was good. Then she turned to Jardine, who had begun to smoke.

"The police shall not get Mr. Leyland. I will go."

"Verra weel," said Jardine. "If ye mean to gang, ye had better start.

Ye'll need to take some food; I'll get the saddle bag."

He crossed the floor and Margaret remarked that for a few steps he went lightly, as if his foot did not hurt. Then he limped, and when he got to the door he stopped and leaned against the post. All the same, it was not important and Margaret began to pack some food and clothes. Ten minutes afterwards, she untied the horse and gave Jardine her hand.

"Good-bye," she said in a quiet voice. "I don't know when I shall get back."

Jardine held the stirrup, she seized the bridle, set her mouth and started the horse. When she vanished in the woods Jardine went back to the house, rested his foot on a chair, and knitted his brows. He saw he ran some risk, but he knew his daughter and thought he knew Jimmy. Jimmy was a white man; Jardine, so to speak, bet all he had on that.

Some time afterwards, Jimmy, cooking his supper, heard a horse's feet and went to the door. He smiled, because he thought he knew the horse; but Margaret was obviously riding fast and snapping branches indicated that she had cut out a bend of the trail. When she got down her color was high and the horse's coat was white.

"Roll up your blanket and put the sling on your rifle," she said. "Then I'll help you pack some food."

Jimmy studied her with surprise. Her look was resolute, but he got a hint of embarra.s.sment. Then he saw a light.

"Ah!" he said. "The police are on my track?"

"Two troopers are riding up the valley. They may stop at Kelshope for a few minutes. Where do you keep your groceries!"

Jimmy opened a box, and Margaret picked out a number of articles. "Now make a pack, because you must start at once for my cousin's at Green Lake. I expect Peter will help you south."

"But I don't know the trail, and it will soon be dark."

"Make your pack! The police will arrive in a few minutes," Margaret rejoined impatiently and turned her head. "There is not a trail. I am going with you."