Whatever action the police took concerning Lane's descent upon Crane Valley was not apparent, and Thorn may have been justified in deciding that they took none at all. However that may have been, Lane left us in peace for a while, and it was not by his own hands that the next bolt was launched against me. He preferred, as a rule, to strike through another person's agency, and usually contrived it so that when trouble resulted the agent bore the brunt of it.
I was tramping behind the seeder one fine morning, alternately watching the somewhat unruly team and the trickle of golden grain into the good black loam, when two horsemen appeared on the prairie. They headed for the homestead, and living in a state of expectancy, as we then did, I shared the misgivings of Thorn. "They're coming our way in a hurry, sure; and the sight of anyone whose business I don't know worries me just now," he said.
"If it's bad news we'll learn it soon enough," I said. "Go on to the end of the harrowing. That we'll have a frost-nipped harvest if we're not through with the sowing shortly is the one thing certain."
The two horsemen drew nearer, and it appeared that both wore uniform, while I caught the glint of carbines. This in itself was significant, and I wondered whether Mackay had discovered the identity of Boone. Shortly I recognized the sergeant and Cotton, who a little later drew bridle beside the seeder. Mackay's face was expressionless, but Cotton looked distinctly unhappy, and once more I felt sorry for Boone.
"I have a word for ye. Will ye walk to the house with me?" said the former. I glanced at Cotton, who,stooping, pretended to examine his carbine. Thorn appeared suspicious, for he dropped the lines he held, and his eyes grew keen.
"I'm sorry that is the one thing I can't do just now, when every moment of this weather is precious," I said. "If you can't wait until we stop at noon, there's no apparent reason why you shouldn't state your business here."
"Ye had better come," said Mackay, looking very wooden. "Forby, I'm thinking ye will sow no more to-day."
"I'm not in the humor for joking, and intend to continue sowing until it is too dark to see," I answered shortly. "Have you any authority to prevent me?"
"I have," said the sergeant. "Well, if ye will have it—authority to arrest ye on a charge of unlawfully burning the homestead of Gaspard's Trail."
Astonishment, dismay, and anger held me dumb between them for a few moments. Then, as the power of speech returned, I said: "Confound you, Mackay! You don't think I could possibly have had any hand in that?"
"It's no' my business to think," was the dry answer; "I'm here to carry out orders. What was it ye were observing, Foreman Thorn?"
"Only that Niven or Lane was a mighty long time finding this thing out; and that, while nobody expects too much from the police, we never figured they were clean, stark, raging lunatics," said Thorn.
"I'm no' expecting compliments," said Mackay. "Ye will do your duty, Corporal Cotton."
"You can put that thing back. I'm not a wild beast, and have sense enough to see that I must wait for satisfaction until some of your chiefs at headquarters hear of your smartness," I said. Then Cotton positively hung his head as he let the carbine slip back into its holster, while Mackay stared after the departing Thorn, who made for the homestead as fast as he could run.
"What is his business?" he said.
"His own!" I answered shortly. "Unless you have also a warrant for his arrest, it would be injudicious ofyou to stop him. Thorn has an ugly temper, and would be justified in resenting the interference. What is your program?"
"To ride in to the railroad whenever ye are ready, and deliver ye safely in Empress City."
"I suppose one can only make the best of it; but considering that you were probably consulted before a warrant was issued, I can't help feeling astonished," I said. "However, there is no use in wasting words, and an hour will suffice me to get ready in."
I left the team standing before the seeder, careless as to what became of them, for, even if acquitted, I felt that my career was closed at last. No forced labor could make up for time lost now, and, because justice in the West is slow, it was perfectly clear why the charge had been made. There was a scene with Sally when we reached the homestead, and Cotton fled before her biting comments on police sagacity. Even Mackay winced under certain allusions, and when I asked him: "Am I permitted to talk to my housekeeper alone?" assented readily.
"Ye may," he said, "and welcome; I do not envy ye."
If Sally's tongue could be venomous, her brain was keen, and, as Steel was absent, it was with confidence I left instructions with her. Thorn had vanished completely, and the girl only looked mysterious when questioned concerning him. At length all was ready, and turning in the saddle as we rode away, I waved my hat to Sally, who stood in the doorway of the homestead with eyes suspiciously dim. I wondered, with a strange lack of interest, whether I should ever see either it or her again. Cotton also saluted her, and the girl suddenly moved forward a pace, holding up her hand.
"Make sure of your prisoner, Sergeant," she said. "What's the use of talking justice to the poor man when he's ground down by the thief with capital? We're getting tired—we have waited for that justice so long—and I give you and the fools or rogues behind you warning that if you jail Ormesby, the boys will come for him with rifles a hundred strong."
Mackay touched his beast with the spurs, and as we passed out of earshot, said to me: "If the boys have her spirit I'm thinking it's not impossible. Your friends are not judicious, Henry Ormesby."
"They are stanch, at least, and above being bought," I said; and Mackay stiffened.
"What were ye meaning?"
"I think my meaning was plain enough," I answered him.
Many leagues divided us from the railroad, and the way seemed very long. The dejection that settled upon me brought a physical lassitude with it, and I rode wearily, jolting in the saddle before the journey was half done. Since the memorable night at Bonaventure, when I first met Boone, trouble after trouble had crowded on me, and, supported by mere obstinacy when hope had gone, I still held on. Now it seemed the end had come, and, at the best, I must retire beaten to earn a daily wage by the labor of my hands if I escaped conviction as a felon. Lane would absorb Crane Valley, as he had done Gaspard's Trail. As if in mockery the prairie had donned its gayest robe of green, and lay flooded with cloudless sunshine.
Mackay made no further advances since my last repulse, but rode silently on my right hand, Cotton on my left, holding back a little so that I could not see him, and so birch bluff, willows, and emerald levels rolled up before us and slid back to the prairie's rim until, towards dusk on the second day, cubes of wooden houses and a line of gaunt telegraph poles loomed up ahead.
"I'm glad," said Corporal Cotton, breaking into speech at last. "I don't know if you'll believe it, Ormesby, but this has been a sickening day to me. I'm tired of the confounded service—I'm tired of everything."
"Ye're young and tender on the bit, and without the sense to go canny when it galls ye. What ails ye at the service anyway?" interposed the sergeant.
"I'll say nothing about some of the duties. They're a part of the contract," answered Cotton. "Still, I neverbargained to arrest my best friends when I became a policeman."
"Friends!" said Mackay. "Who were ye meaning?" and Cotton turned in my direction with the face of one who had narrowly escaped a blunder.
"Aren't you asking useless questions? I mean Rancher Ormesby."
"I observed ye used the plural," said Mackay.
Cotton answered shortly: "When one is going through a disgusting duty to the best of his ability, he may be forgiven a trifling lapse in grammar."
The light was failing as we rode up to the station some time before the train was due, and looking back, I saw several diminutive objects on the edge of the prairie. They were, I surmised, mounted settlers coming in for letters or news, but except that the blaze of crimson behind them forced them up, it would have been hard to recognize the shapes of men and beasts. Round the other half of the circle the waste was fading into the dimness that crept up from the east, and feeling that I had probably done with the prairie, and closed another chapter of my life, I turned my eyes towards the string of giant poles and the little railroad station ahead.
There were fewer loungers than usual about it, but when we dismounted, Cotton started as two feminine figures strolled side by side down the platform, and said something softly under his breath.
"What has surprised you?" I asked, and he pointed towards the pair.
"Those are Haldane's daughters, by all that is unfortunate!"
There was no avoiding the meeting. Darkness had not settled yet, and Mackay, who failed to recognize the ladies, was regarding us impatiently. "I'll do my best, and they may not notice anything suspicious," the corporal said.
We moved forward, Mackay towards the office, Cotton hanging behind me, but, as ill-luck would have it, both ladies saw us when we reached the track, and beforeI could recover from my dismay, I stood face to face with Beatrice Haldane. She was, it seemed to me, more beautiful than ever, but I longed that the earth might open beneath me.
"It is some time since I have seen you, and you do not look well," she said. "You once described the Western winters as invigorating; but one could almost fancy the last had been too much for you."
"I cannot say the same thing, and if we had nothing more than the weather to contend with, we might preserve our health," I said. "I did not know you were at Bonaventure, or I should have ridden over to pay my respects to you."
Beatrice Haldane did not say whether this would have given her pleasure or otherwise. Indeed, her manner, if slightly cordial, was nothing more, and I found it desirable to study a rail fastening when I saw her sister watching me.
"I arrived from the East only a few days ago, and we are now awaiting my father, who had some business down the line. Are you going out with the train?"
"I am going to Empress," I said; and Lucille Haldane interposed: "That is a long way; and the last time he met you, you told father you were too busy to visit Bonaventure. Who will see to your sowing—and will you stay there long?"
I heard Corporal Cotton grind his heel viciously into the plank beneath him; and I answered, in desperation:
"I do not know. I am afraid so."
Perhaps the girl noticed by my voice that all was not well. Indeed, Beatrice also commenced to regard the corporal and myself curiously.
"What has happened, Mr. Ormesby? You look positively haggard?" the younger sister said. "Why are you keeping in the background, Corporal Cotton? Have you done anything to be ashamed of?" Then she ceased with a gasp of pained surprise, and I read consternation in her eyes.
"You have guessed aright. I am not making this journey of my own will," I said.
Beatrice Haldane turned with a swift movement, which brought us once more fully face to face, and, unlike her sister, she was strangely cold and grave.
"Is it permissible to ask any questions?" she said, and her even tone stung me to the quick. One whisper against the speaker would have roused me to fury.
"Everybody will know to-morrow or the next day, and I may as well tell you now," I said, in a voice which sounded, even in my own ears, hoarse with bitterness. "I am to be tried for burning down the homestead of Gaspard's Trail."
Beatrice Haldane certainly showed surprise, but she seemed more thoughtful than indignant, and still fixed me with her eyes. They were clear and very beautiful, but I had begun to wonder if a spark of human passion would ever burn within them.
"It is absurd—preposterous. Come here at once, Sergeant!" a clear young voice with a thrill of unmistakable anger in it said; but Mackay seemed desirous of backing into the station agent's office instead.
"I want you," added Lucille Haldane. "Come at once, and tell me why you have done this."
The sergeant's courage was evidently unequal to the task, for with a brief, "I will try to satisfy ye when I have transacted my business," he disappeared into the office, and I turned again to Beatrice Haldane.
"You see it is unfortunately true; but you do not appear astonished," I said.
Beatrice Haldane looked at me sharply, but without indignation, for she was always mistress of herself, and before she could speak her sister broke in: "Do you wish to make us angry, when we are only sorry for you, Mr. Ormesby? Everybody knows that neither you nor any rancher in this district could be guilty. Corporal Cotton, will you inquire if your superior has finished his business, and tell him that I am waiting?"
"The old heathen deserves it!" said Cotton aside to me, as, with unfeigned relief, he hurried away, and it was only by an effort I refrained from following him. The interview was growing painful in the extreme.Still, I was respited, for Beatrice Haldane turned from us suddenly.
"What can this mean? There is a troop of horsemen riding as for their lives towards the station," she said.
It was growing dark, but not too dark to see a band of mounted men converge at a gallop upon the station, and for the first time I noticed how the loungers stared at them, and heard the jingle of harness and thud of drumming hoofs. None of them shouted or spoke. They came on in ominous silence, the spume flakes flying from the lathered beasts, the clods whirling up, until a voice cried:
"Two of you stand by to hold up the train! The rest will come along with me!"
Amid a musical jingling, the horses were pulled up close beside the track, and men in embroidered deerskin with broad white hats and men in old blue-jean leaped hurriedly down. Several carried rifles, while, guessing their purpose, I pointed towards the frame houses across the unfenced track. "You must go at once, Miss Haldane. There may be a tumult," I said.
Lucille seemed reluctant, Beatrice by no means hurried, and I do not remember whether I bade either of them farewell, for as the newcomers came swiftly into the station a gaunt commanding figure holding a carbine barred their way, and Corporal Cotton leaped out from the office. The station agent, holding a revolver, also placed himself between them and me.
"What are ye wanting, boys?" a steady voice asked; and the men halted within a few paces of the carbine's muzzle. I could just see that they were my friends and neighbors, and I noticed that one who rode up and down the track seemed inclined to civilly prevent the ladies from retiring to the wooden settlement. Perhaps he feared they intended to raise its inhabitants.
"We want Harry Ormesby," answered a voice I recognized as belonging to Steel. "Stand out of the daylight, Sergeant. We have no call to hurt you."
"I'm thinking that's true," said Mackay; and I admired his coolness as he stood alone, save for the young corporal, grimly eying the crowd. "It will, however, be my distressful duty to damage the first of ye who moves a foot nearer my prisoner. Noo will ye hear reason, boys, or will I wire for a squadron to convince ye? Ormesby ye cannot have, and will ye shame your own credit and me?"
There was a murmur of consultation, but no disorderly clamor. The men whom Thorn had raised to rescue me were neither habitual brawlers nor desperadoes, but sturdy stock-riders and tillers of the soil, smarting under a sense of oppression. They were all fearless, and would, I knew, have faced a cavalry brigade to uphold what appeared their rights, but they were equally averse to any bloodshed or violence that was not necessary.
"There's no use talking, Sergeant," somebody said. "We don't go back without our man, and it will be better for all of us if you release him. You know as well as we do there's nothing against him."
Meanwhile, I could not well interfere without precipitating a crisis. The station agent, who stated that Mackay had deputed him authority, stood beside me with the pistol in his hand. Neither was I certain what my part would be, for, stung to white heat by Beatrice Haldane's coldness, which suggested suspicion, and came as a climax to a series of injuries, I wondered whether it might not be better to make a dash for liberty and leave the old hard life behind me. There might be better fortune beyond the Rockies, and I felt that Lane would not have instigated the charge of arson unless he saw his way to substantiate it.
Nevertheless, I could watch the others with a strange and almost impersonal curiosity—the group of men standing with hard hands on the rifle barrels ready for a rush; the grim figure of the sergeant, and the young corporal poised with head held high, left foot flung forward, and carbine at hip, in front of them.
"We'll give you two minutes in which to make up your mind. Then, if you can't climb down, and anything unpleasant happens, it will be on your head. Can't you see you haven't the ghost of a show?" said one.
Turning my eyes a moment, I noticed a fan-shaped flicker swinging like a comet across the dusky waste far down the straight-ruled track, and when a man I knew held up his watch beneath a lamp, I had almost come to a decision. If the sergeant had shown any sign of weakness it is perhaps possible that decision might have been reversed; but Mackay stood as though cast in iron, and equally unyielding. I would at least have no blood shed on my account, and would not leave my friends to bear the consequences of their unthinking generosity. Meanwhile, stock-rider and teamster were waiting in strained attention, and there was still almost a minute left to pass when a light hand touched my shoulder, and Lucille Haldane, appearing from behind me, said: "You must do something. Go forward and speak to them immediately." She was trembling with eagerness, but the station agent stood on my other side, and he was woodenly stolid.
"Put down that weapon. I will speak to them," I said.
"You're healthier here," was the suspicious answer; and chiefly conscious of the appeal and anxiety in Lucille Haldane's eyes, I turned upon him.
"Stand out of my way—confound you!" I shouted.
The man fingered the pistol uncertainly, and I could have laughed at his surmise that the sight of it would have held me then. Before, even if he wished it, his finger could close on the trigger, I had him by the wrist, and the weapon fell with a clash. Then I lifted him bodily and flung him upon the track, while, as amid a shouting, Cotton sprang forward, Mackay roared: "Bide ye, let him go!"
The shouting ceased suddenly when I stood between my friends and the sergeant with hands held up. "I'll never forget what you have done, boys; but it is no use," I said; and paused to gather breath, amid murmurs of surprise and consternation. "In the first place, I can't drag you into this trouble."
"We'll take the chances willing," a voice said, and there was a grim chorus of approval. "We've borne enough, and it's time we did something."
"Can't you see that if I bolted now it would suit nobody better than Lane? Boys, you know I'm innocent——"
Again a clamor broke out, and somebody cried: "It was Lane's own man who did it, if anybody fired Gaspard's Trail!"
"He may not be able to convict me, and if instead of rushing the sergeant you will go home and help Thorn with the sowing, we may beat him yet," I continued. "Even if I am convicted, I'll come back again, and stay right here until Lane is broken, or one of us is dead."
The hoot of a whistle cut me short, the brightening blaze of a great headlamp beat into our faces, and further speech was out of the question, as with brakes groaning the lighted cars clanged in.
"Be quick, Sergeant, before they change their minds!" I shouted, and Mackay and Cotton scrambled after me on to a car platform. No train that ever entered that station had, I think, so prompt dispatch, for Cotton had hardly opened the door of the vestibule than the bell clanged and the huge locomotive snorted as the cars rolled out. I had a momentary vision of the agent, who seemed partly dazed, scowling in my direction, a group of dark figures swinging broad-brimmed hats, and Lucille Haldane standing on the edge of the platform waving her hand to me. Then the lights faded behind us, and we swept out, faster and faster, across the prairie.
I had spent a number of weary days awaiting trial, when a visitor was announced, and a young, smooth-shaven man shown into my quarters. He nodded to me pleasantly, seated himself on the edge of the table, and commenced: "Your friends sent me along. I hope to see you through this trouble, Rancher, and want you to tell me exactly how your difficulties began. Think of all the little things that didn't strike you as quite usual."
"I should like to hear in the first place who you are. I know your name is Dixon, but that does not convey very much," I said.
The stranger laughed good-humoredly. "And such is fame! Now I had fancied everybody who read the papers knew my name, and that I had won some small reputation down at Winnipeg. Anyway, I'm generally sent for in cases with a financial origin."
Then I remembered, and looked hard at the speaker. The last sentence was justified, but he differed greatly from one's idea of the typical lawyer. He was not even neatly dressed, and his manner singularly lacked the preciseness of the legal practitioner.
"I must apologize, for I certainly have read about you," I said. "It was perhaps natural that as I did not send for you I should be surprised at your taking an interest in my case. I am, however, afraid I cannot retain you, for the simple reason that I don't know where to raise sufficient money to recompense any capable man's services."
"Aren't you a little premature? My clients don't usually plead poverty until I send in my bill," was the answer. "You own a tolerably extensive holding in Crane Valley, don't you?"
"I do; but nobody, except one man with whom I would not deal, would buy a foot of it just now," I answered. Then, acceding to the other's request, I supported the statement by a brief account of my circumstances. "All this is quite beside the question," I concluded.
"No!" said Dixon. "As a matter of fact, I find it interesting. Won't you go on and bring the story down to the present?"
I did so, and the man's face had changed, growing intent and keen before I concluded.
"I should rather like to manage this affair for you," he said. "My fees!—well, from what one or two people said about you, I can, if necessary, wait for them."
"You will probably never be paid. Who was it sent for you?"
"Charles Steel, who was, however, not quite so frank about finances as you seem to be," was the answer. "It was also curious, or otherwise, that I was requested to see what could be done by two other gentlemen who offered to guarantee expenses. That is about as much as I may tell you. You are not the only person with an interest in the future of the Crane Valley district."
"I seem to be used as a stalking-horse by friends and enemies alike, and get the benefit of the charges each time they miss their aim. The part grows irksome," I said dryly. "However, if you are willing to take the risks, I need capable assistance badly enough."
Dixon seemed quite willing, and asked further questions. "You seem a little bitter against the sergeant. What kind of man is he?" he said. "I mean, has he a tolerably level head, or is he one of the discipline-made machines who can comprehend nothing not included in their code of rules?"
"I used to think him singularly shrewd, but recent events have changed my opinion, and you had better place him in the latter category," I said; and Dixon chuckled over something.
"Very natural! I must see him. From what yousaid already, he doesn't strike me as a fool. Well, I don't think you need worry too much, Mr. Ormesby."
Dixon had resumed his careless manner before he left me, and, for no particular reason, I felt comforted. We had several more interviews before the trial began, and I can vividly remember the morning I was summoned into court. It was packed to suffocation, and the brilliant sunshine that beat in through the long windows fell upon faces that I knew. Their owners were mostly poor men, and I surmised had covered the long distance on horseback, sleeping on the prairie, to encourage me. There was, indeed, when I took my stand a suppressed demonstration that brought a quicker throb to my pulses and a glow into my face. It was comforting to know that I had their approbation and sympathy. If the life I had caught brief glimpses of at Bonaventure was not for me, these hard-handed, tireless men were my equals and friends—and I was proud of them.
So it was in a clear, defiant voice I pleaded "Not guilty!" and presently composed myself to listen while Sergeant Mackay detailed my arrest. Bronzed faces were turned anxiously upon him when he was asked: "Did the prisoner volunteer any statement, or offer resistance?"
Mackay looked down at the men before him, and there was a significant silence in the body of the court. Then, with a faint twinkle in his eyes, he answered: "There was a bit demonstration at the station in the prisoner's favor, but he assisted us in maintaining order. The charge, he said, was ridiculous."
This I considered a liberal view to take of what had passed and my own comments, and, though I knew that Mackay was never addicted to unfairly making the most of an advantage, I remembered Dixon's opinion. If he were actuated by any ulterior motive, I had, however, no inkling of what it might be.
Nothing of much further importance passed until the man who had preferred the charge against me took his stand; when, watching him intently, I was puzzled by his attitude. He appeared irresolute, though I felt tolerably certain that his indecision was quite untinged with compunction on my account. He had also a sullen look, which suggested one driven against his will, and, twice before he spoke, made a slight swift movement, as though under the impulse of a changed resolution.
"I am the owner of the lands and remains of the homestead known as Gaspard's Trail," he said. "I bought them at public auction when sold by the gentleman who held the prisoner's mortgage. Twice that day the latter threatened both of us, and his friends raised a hostile demonstration. He told me to take care of myself and the property, for he would live to see me sorry; but I didn't count much on that. Thought he was only talking when naturally a little mad. Have had cause to change my opinions since. I turned in early on the night of the fire and slept well, I and my hired man, Wilkins, being the only people in the house. Wilkins wakened me about two in the morning. 'Get up at once! Somebody has fired the place!' he said.
"I got up—in a mighty hurry—and got out my valuables. One end of the house was 'most red-hot. There wasn't much furniture in it. The prisoner had cleared out 'most everything, whether it was in the mortgage schedule or whether it was not; but there was enough to keep me busy while Wilkins lit out to save the horses. Wind blew the sparks right on to the stable. I went out when I'd saved what I could, and as Wilkins had been gone a long time, concluded he'd made sure of the horses. Met the prisoner when I was carrying tools out of a threatened shed. Asked him to help me. 'I'll see you burned before I stir a hand,' he said. Noticed he was skulking round the corner of a shed, and seemed kind of startled at the sight of me, but was too rattled to think of much just then. Didn't ask him anything more, but seeing the fire had taken hold good, sat down and watched it. Yes, sir, I told somebody it wasn't insured.
"By-and-by the prisoner came back with a dozen ranchers. Didn't seem friendly, or even civil, most ofthem, and there was nothing I could do. Then I got worried about Wilkins, for he'd been gone a long time, and the stable was burning bad. One of the ranchers said he'd make sure there were no beasts inside it, and the prisoner and the rest went along. They found Wilkins with some bones broken, and got him and the horses out between them. Then, when the place was burnt out, Sergeant Mackay rode up. I was homeless; but none of the ranchers would take me in. Somebody said he wasn't sorry, and I'd got my deserts. Believe it was the prisoner; but can't be certain. That's all I know except that before I turned in I saw all the lamps out and fixed up the stove. Am certain the fire didn't start from them.
"I was hunting among the ruins with Wilkins a little while ago when I found a flattened coal-oil-tin under some fallen beams in the kitchen. I never used that oil, but heard at the railroad store that the prisoner did. Mightn't have taken the trouble to inquire, but that I found close beside it a silver match-box. It was pretty well worn, but anyone who will look at it close can read that it was given to H. Ormesby. Considering the prisoner must have dropped it there, I handed both to the police."
When Niven mentioned the match-box I started as though struck by a bullet. It was mine, undoubtedly, and most of my neighbors had seen it. That it was damning evidence in conjunction with the oil-tin, and had been deliberately placed there for my undoing, I felt certain. There was a half-audible murmur in the court while the judge examined the articles, and I read traces of bewilderment and doubt in the faces turned towards me. That these men should grow suspicious roused me to a sense of unbearable injury, and I sent my voice ringing through the court. "It is an infamous lie! I lost the match-box, or it was stolen from me with a purpose, a month after the fire."
The judge dropped his note-book, the prosecutor smiled significantly; but I saw that the men from the prairie believed me, and that was very comforting.Something resembling a subdued cheer arose from various parts of the building.
"Silence!" said the judge sternly. "An interruption is neither admissible nor seemly, prisoner. You will be called on in turn."
"We need not trouble about the prisoner's denial, which was perhaps natural, if useless, because the witness' statement will be fully borne out by the man who was present when he found the match-box," said the lawyer for the Crown. "I will now call Sergeant Mackay again."
Mackay's terse testimony was damaging, and aroused my further indignation. I had not expected that he would either conceal or enlarge upon anything that would tell against me; but had anticipated some trace of reluctance, or that he would wait longer for questions between his admissions. Instead, he stood rigidly erect, and reeled off his injurious testimony more like a speaking automaton than a human being.
"A trooper warned me that he had seen a reflected blaze in the sky," he said. "We mounted and rode over to Gaspard's Trail. Arriving there I found a number of men, including the owner, Niven, and the prisoner. Niven said the place was not insured. They were unable to do anything. I see no need to describe the fire. The house was past saving; but the ranchers, with the prisoner among them, broke into the burning stable to bring out the horses, which had been overlooked, and found the hired man, Wilkins, partly suffocated in a stall. He was badly injured, but bore out the owner's statement that lamps and stove were safe when they retired.
"I proceeded to question the spectators. Knew them all as men of good character, and as they had newly ridden in, saw no reason to suspect more than one in case the fire was not accidental. Asked Niven whom he first met, and he said it was the prisoner, shortly after the fire broke out. Stated he met him slipping through the shadow of a shed, and the prisoner refused to assist him. Was not surprised at this, knowing the prisoner bore Niven little goodwill since the latter bought hisproperty. Had heard him threaten him and another man supposed to be connected with him in the purchase of Gaspard's Trail."
"What reason have you to infer that any other man was concerned in the purchase of Gaspard's Trail?" asked the prosecutor; and Mackay answered indifferently:
"It was just popular opinion that he was finding Niven the money."
"We need not trouble about popular opinion," said the lawyer somewhat hurriedly. "We will now proceed to the testimony of the hired man, Thomas Wilkins."
Thomas Wilkins was called for several times, but failed to present himself, and a trooper who hurried out of court came back with the tidings that he had borrowed a horse at the hotel and ridden out on the prairie an hour ago. Since then nobody had seen him.
The Crown prosecutor fidgeted, the judge frowned, and there was a whispering in the court, until the former rose up: "As Wilkins is one of my principal witnesses, I must suggest an adjournment."
It cost me an effort to repress an exclamation. I had already been kept long enough in suspense, and suspecting that Wilkins did not mean to return, knew that a lengthened adjournment would be almost equally as disastrous as a sentence.
"Have you no information whatever as to why he has absented himself?" asked the judge. Receiving a negative answer, he turned towards the trooper: "Exactly what did you hear at the hotel?"
"Very little, sir," was the answer. "He didn't tell anybody where he was going, but just rode out. The hotelkeeper said he guessed Wilkins had something on his mind by the way he kicked things about last night."
"It will be the business of the police to find him as speedily as possible. In the meantime, I can only adjourn the case until they do, unless the prisoner's representative proceeds with the examination of witnesses," said the judge.
Dixon was on his feet in a moment. "With the exception of Sergeant Mackay and the witness Niven, who will be further required by my legal friend, I do not purpose to trouble the witnesses," he said. "While I can urge no reasonable objection to the adjournment, it is necessary to point out that it will inflict a grievous injury on one whom I have every hope of showing is a wholly innocent man. It is well known that this is the one time of the year when the prairie rancher's energies are taxed to the utmost, and the loss of even a few days now may entail the loss of the harvest or the ruin of the stock. My client has also suffered considerably from being brought here to answer what I cannot help describing as an unwarranted charge, and it is only reasonable that bail should be allowed."
"Is anyone willing to offer security?" asked the judge.
There was a few moments' silence, and then a hum of subdued voices as a man rose up; while I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw it was Boone. In spite of the slight change in his appearance, he must have been aware that he was running a serious risk, for his former holding lay almost within a day's journey. I could also see that some of the spectators started as they recognized him.
"I shall be glad to offer security for the prisoner's reappearance, so far as my means will serve," he said.
"You are a citizen of this place, or have some local standing?" asked the judge.
Boone answered carelessly: "I can hardly claim so much; but a good many people know me further west, and I am prepared to submit my bank-book as a guarantee."
He had scarcely finished, when another man I had not noticed earlier stood up in turn. "I am authorized by Carson Haldane, of Bonaventure, to offer bail to any extent desired."
The judge beckoned both of them to sit down again, and called up a commissioned police officer and Sergeant Mackay. Then I felt slightly hopeful, guessing that agood deal depended on Mackay's opinion. The others drew aside, and my heart throbbed fast with the suspense until the judge announced his decision.
"As the charge is a serious one, and the police hope to find the missing witness very shortly, I must, in the meantime, refuse to allow bail."
I had grown used to the crushing disappointment which follows short-lived hope; but the shock was hard to meet. It seemed only too probable that Lane or his emissaries had spirited Wilkins away, and would not produce him until it was too late to save my crop. Still, there was no help for it, and I followed the officer who led me back to my quarters with the best air of stolidity I could assume.
"What did you think of it?" asked Dixon, who came in presently with a smile on his face; and I answered ruefully: "The less said the better. It strikes me as the beginning of the final catastrophe, and if Wilkins substantiates the finding of the match-box, conviction must follow. What is the usual term of detention for such offenses?"
"You needn't worry about that," was the cheerful answer. "Things are going just about as well as they could. There'll be a second adjournment, and then perhaps another."
"And I must lie here indefinitely while my crops and cattle go to ruin! That is hardly my idea of things going well; and if you are jesting, it is precious poor humor," I broke in.
Dixon laughed. "I am not jesting in the least. You seem to be one of those people, Ormesby, who believe everything will go to ruin unless they hold control themselves. Now, it would not surprise me, if, on your return, you found your crops and cattle flourishing. Further, the prosecution hold a poor case, and I expect, when my turn comes, to see it collapse. There isn't so much as you might fancy in the match-box incident. The men who burn down places don't generally leave such things about. I have had a talk with the sergeant,and, though he's closer than an oyster, I begin to catch a glimmering of his intentions."
"Why can't you explain them then? I'm growing tired of hints, and feel tempted to tell my mysterious well-wishers to go to the devil together, and leave me in peace," I said.
"A little ill-humor is perhaps excusable," was the tranquil answer. "It is wisest not to prophesy until one is sure, you know. Now, I'm open, as I said, to do my best for you; but in that case you have just got to let me set about it independently. Usual or otherwise, it is my way."
"Then I suppose I'll have to let you. Your reputation should be a guarantee," I answered moodily, and Dixon lifted his hat from the table.
"Thanks!" he said dryly. "It is, in fact, the only sensible thing you can do."
Dixon's prediction proved correct. When I was brought into court a second time there was still no news of Wilkins, and after further testimony of no importance the case was again adjourned. This time, however, bail was allowed, and Boone and Rancher Gordon stood surety for me. The latter was by no means rich, and had, like the rest of us, suffered severe losses of late. Dixon was the first to greet me when I went forth, somewhat moodily, a free man for the time being.
"You don't look either so cheerful or grateful as you ought to be," he said.
"You are wrong in one respect. I am at least sincerely grateful for your efforts."
Dixon, in defiance of traditions, smote me on the shoulder. "Then what's the matter with the cheerfulness?"
"It is not exactly pleasant to have a charge of this description hanging over one indefinitely, and I have already lost time that can never be made up," I said. "Lane will no doubt produce his witness when he considers it opportune, and there is small encouragement to work in the prospect of spending a lengthy time in jail while one's possessions go to ruin."
"You think Lane had a hand in his disappearance?" Dixon asked thoughtfully; and when I nodded, commented: "I can't quite say I do. My reasons are not conclusive, and human nature's curious, anyway; but I'm not sure that Wilkins will, if he can help it, turn up at all. However, in the meantime, the dinner we're both invited to will put heart into you."
He slipped his arm through mine, and led me into the leading hotel, where, as it was drawing near the timefor the six o'clock supper, every man turned to stare at us as we passed through the crowded bar and vestibule. I was making for the general dining-room when Dixon said: "Go straight ahead. It was not easy to manage, but our hosts were determined to do the thing in style."
He flung a door open, and Boone and Gordon greeted me in turn, while I had never seen a menu in a Western hostelry to compare with that of the following meal. Perhaps Gordon noticed my surprise, for he said: "It was Adams who fixed up all this, and came near having a scrimmage with the hotelkeeper about the wine. 'This comes from California, and I prefer it grown in France. Those labels aren't much use to any man with a sense of taste,' says he. This brand, wherever they grew it, is quite good enough for me, but I'm wondering where Adams learned the difference."
Boone smiled at me. "I have," he said, "a good memory, and learned a number of useful things during a somewhat varied experience."
The meal was over and the blue cigar smoke curled about us, when I turned to Gordon: "There are two things I should like to ask you. First, and because I know what losses you have had to face, how you raised the money to liberate me in the generous way you did; and, second, how many acres are left unsown at Crane Valley?"
The gaunt rancher fidgeted before he answered: "You have said 'Thank you' once, and I guess that's enough. You're so blame thin in the hide, and touchy, Ormesby; and it wasn't I who did it—at least not much of it."
Dixon appeared to be amused, and when Gordon glanced appealingly at Boone the latter only smiled and shook his head; seeing which, I said quietly: "In short, you sent round the hat?"
There was no doubt that the chance shot had told, for Gordon rose, very red in face, to his feet. "That's just what I didn't. Don't you know us yet? Send round the hat when the boys knew you were innocent and just how I was fixed! No, sir. They came right in,each bringing his roll of bills with him, and if I'd wanted twice as much they'd have raised it. And now I've given them away—just what they made me promise not to."
I had anticipated the answer, but it stirred me, nevertheless, and while Gordon stared at me half angry, half ashamed of his own vehemence, I filled a wine-glass to the brim. "Here's to the finest men and stanchest comrades on God's green earth," I said, looking steadily at him.
It was Dixon who brought us down to our normal level, for, setting his glass down empty, he commented: "You're not overmodest, Ormesby, considering that you are one of them. Still, I think you're right. People in the East are expecting a good deal from you and the good country that has been given you."
Gordon joined in the lawyer's laugh, but I broke in: "You have not answered my second question."
"Well!" and the rancher smiled mischievously. "You're so mighty particular that I don't know what to say. Still, things looked pretty tolerable last time I was down to Crane Valley."
Dixon accompanied us to the station when it was time to catch the train, and as he stood on the car platform said to me: "It's probably no use to tell you not to worry, but I'd sit tight in my saddle and think as little as possible about this trouble if I were you."
He dropped lightly from the platform, cigar in hand, as the train pulled out, and, though most unlike the traditional lawyer in speech or agility, left me with a reassuring confidence in his skill.
It was early morning when I rode alone towards Crane Valley, feeling, in spite of Dixon's good advice, distinctly anxious. It is true that Thorn and Steel were both energetic, but no man can drive two teams at once, and it was my impression that, having more at stake, I could do considerably more in person than either of them. I had small comfort in the reflection that, after all, the question how much had been accomplished was immaterial, because there was little use in sowing where, while I lay in jail, an enemy might reap, and I urgedmy horse when I drew near the hollow in which the homestead lay, and then pulled him up with a jerk. Gordon had said things had been going tolerably well, but this proved a very inadequate description. The plowed land had all been harrowed and sown, and beyond it lay the shattered clods of fresh breaking, where I guessed oats had been sown under the sod newly torn from the virgin prairie. Ten men of greater endurance could not have accomplished so much, and I sat still, humbled and very grateful, with eyes that grew momentarily dim, fixed on the wide stretch of black soil steaming under the morning sun. It seemed as though a beneficent genie had been working for my deliverance while I lay, almost despairing, in the grip of the law.
Then Steel, springing out from the door of the sod-house, came up at a run, with Thorn behind him. It was strangely pleasant to see the elation in their honest faces, and Steel's shout of delight sent a thrill through me.
"This is the best sight I've seen since you left us," he panted, wringing my hand. "Thorn's that full up with satisfaction he can't even run. We knew Dixon and Adams would see you through between them."
"Has Dixon been down here?" I asked, for the lawyer had not told me so; and Thorn, who came up, gasped: "Oh, yes; and a Winnipeg man he sent down went round with Adams 'most everywhere. Say, did you strike Niven for compensation?"
"No," I answered, a trifle ruefully. "I am only free on bail, and not acquitted yet."
Steel's jaw dropped, and his dismay would have been ludicrous had it not betrayed his whole-hearted friendship, while Thorn's burst of sulphurous language was an even more convincing testimony. Again I felt a curious humility, and something enlarged in my throat as I looked down at them.
"If I can't stand Lane off with you two and the rest behind me I shall deserve all I get, and we must hope for the best," I said. "But if you could handle three teams each you could not have done all this."
Thorn, who was not usually vociferous in expressing his sentiments, appeared glad of this diversion, and, after a glance at the plowed land, strove to smile humorously. "Think you could have done it any better yourself?"
"It's a fair hit," I answered. "You know exactly how much I can do. Let me down easily. How did you manage it?"
"We didn't manage anything," said Thorn. "No, sir. The boys, they did it all. Everybody came or sent a hired man, and blame quaint plowing some of them cow-chasers done. Put up a dollar sweepstake and ran races with the harrows, they did, and Steel talked himself purple before he stopped them. They've busted the gang-plow, and one said he ought to have been a dentist by the way he pulled out the cultivator teeth."
"And where did you come in?" I asked, and duly noted the effort it cost Steel to follow his comrade's lead.
"We just lay back and turned the good advice on," he said. "Tom, he led the prayer meeting when, after supper, they turned loose on Lane. Oh, yes, we rode in and out for provisions. Sally, she would have the best in the settlement, and sat up all night cooking. Don't know how you'll feel when you see the grocery bill."
"I can tell you now," I said. "I feel that there's nothing in the whole Dominion too good for them—or you—and I'd be glad, if necessary, to sell my shirt to pay the bill."
We went on to the house together, and Sally, hiding her disappointment, plunged with very kindly intentions into a spirited description of her visitors' feats. "That's a testimonial," she said, pointing through the window to an appalling pile of empty tins. "I just had to get them when some of the boys brought their own provisions in. I set one of them peeling potatoes all night to convince him."
"Peeling potatoes?" I interpolated; and Steel, smiling wickedly, furnished the explanation.
"Sally was busy in the shed when he came along, and wanted to help her considerable. 'Feel like peeling half a sackful?' says Sally; and when the fool stockman allowed he'd like it better than anything, says she, 'Then, as I'm tired, you can.' She just left him with it, while she talked to the other man; but there was grit in him, and he peeled away until morning. Wanted to marry her, too, he did."
Sally's glance foreboded future tribulation for the speaker, and Thorn frowned; but Steel, disregarding it, concluded gravely: "Dessay he might have done it, but he heard Sally turn loose on me one day, and took warning."
In spite of the shadow hanging over me, it was good to be at home, and perhaps the very uncertainty as to its duration made the somewhat sordid struggle of our life at Crane Valley almost attractive. Lane, it seemed only too probable, would crush us in the end, but there was satisfaction in the thought that every hour's work well done would help us to prolong our resistance. So the days of effort slipped by until I received a notice to present myself at court on a specified date, and, there being much to do, I delayed my departure until the last day. Steel insisted on accompanying me to the railroad, but protested against the time of starting. "One might fancy you were fond of jail by the hurry you're in to get back to it," he said. "We could catch the cars if we left hours later."
"It's as well to be on the right side," I said; for I had been in a state of nervous impatience all day. Wilkins had been found, and now that a decision appeared certain, I grew feverishly anxious to learn the best—or the worst.
It was a day in early summer when we set out and pushed on at a good pace, though already the sun shone hot. Steel, indeed, suggested there was no need for haste, but after checking my beast a little, I shot ahead again. "It might be your wedding you were going to!" he said.
We had covered part of the distance left to traverseon the second day when a freighter's lumbering ox-team crawled out of a ravine, and Steel pulled up beside him. "I don't know if you're mailing anything East, but you're late if you are," said the teamster.
"Then there's something wrong with the sun," said Steel. "If he's keeping his time bill we're most two hours too soon."
"You would have been last week," answered the other; while a sudden chill struck through me as I remembered the promised acceleration of the transcontinental express. "They've improved the track in the Selkirks sooner than they expected, and they're rushing the Atlantic hummer through on the new schedule this month instead of next."
Before he concluded I had snatched out my watch and simultaneously touched the beast with the spurs. The next moment the timepiece was swinging against my belt, and, with eyes fixed on the willows before me, I was plunging at a reckless gallop down the side of the ravine. The horse was young and resented the punishment, but I had no desire to hold him, and the further he felt inclined to bolt the better it would please me. So we smashed through the thinner willows, and somehow reeled down an almost precipitous slope, reckless of the fact that there was a creek at the bottom, while the trail wound round towards a bridge, until the hoofs sank into the soft ground, and we came floundering towards the tall growth by the water's edge. There the spurs went in again, and the beast, which knew nothing of jumping, rather rushed than launched itself at the creek. There was a splash and a flounder, a fountain of mire and water shot up, and green withes parted before me as we charged through the willows on the farther bank. The slope was soft and steep beneath the climbing birches, and by the time we were half way up the beast had relinquished all desire to bolt; but my watch showed me that go he must, and it was without pity I drove him at the declivity. Meantime, a thud of hoofs followed us, and when, racing south across the levels, wehad left the ravine two miles behind, Steel came up breathless.
"Can you do it, Harry?" he panted.
"I'm afraid not," I shouted. "Still, if I kill the horse under me, I'm going to try. He's carrying a good many poor men's money."
A hurried calculation had proved conclusively that if the train were punctual I should miss it by more than an hour, and there was, of course, not another until the following day. Still, it was a long climb from Vancouver City up through the mountains of British Columbia to the Kicking Horse Pass in the Rockies, and there then remained a wide breadth of prairie for the mammoth locomotives to traverse. Sometimes, when the load was heavy, they lost an hour or two on the wild up-grade through the cañons. I was ignorant of legal procedure, but greatly feared that my non-appearance in the court would entail the forfeiture of the sureties, and, as the session was near an end, postpone the trial indefinitely. Therefore the train must be caught if it were in the power of horseflesh to accomplish it, and I settled myself to ride as for my life.
"Wouldn't the Port Arthur freight do?" shouted Steel.
"No," I answered. "It's the Atlantic Express or nothing! You can pick those things up on your homeward journey."
Without checking the beast I managed to loosen the valise strapped before me, and hurled it down upon the prairie. It contained all I possessed in the shape of civilized apparel except what I rode in, and that was mired all over from the flounder through the creek; but the horse already carried weight enough. It was now blazing noon, and in the prairie summer the sun is fiercely hot. Here and there the bitter dust of alkali rolled across the waste, crusting our dripping faces and the coats of the lathered beasts. My eyelashes grew foul and heavy, blurring my vision, so that it was but dimly I saw the endless levels crawl up from the farhorizon. A speck far down in the distance grew into the altitude of a garden plant, and, knowing what it must be, I pressed my heels home fiercely, waiting for what seemed hours until it should increase into a wind-dwarfed tree.
It passed. There was nothing but the dancing heat to break the great monotony of grass, while the gray streak where it cut the sky-line rolled steadily back in mockery of our efforts to reach it. Yet I was soaked in perspiration, and Steel was alkali white. There was a steady trickle into my eyes, and the taste of salt in my mouth, while the drumming of hoofs rose with a staccato thud-thud, like distant rifle fire, and the springy rush of the beasts beneath us showed how fast we were traveling. Steel shook his head as we raced up a rise which had tantalized me long, stirrup to stirrup and neck to neck, while the clots from the dripping bits drove past like flakes of wind-whirled snow.
"If you want to get there, Ormesby, this won't do," he said. "You'd break the heart of the toughest beast inside another hour."
"The need would justify a worse loss," I panted, snatching out my watch. "We have pulled up thirty minutes, but are horribly behind still. Men who can't afford to lose it have put up the stakes I am riding for."
Steel made a gesture of comprehension, but once more shook his head. "My beast's the better, and he's carrying a lighter weight, but he'll never last at the pace we're making. Save your own a little, and when he's dead beat I'll let up and change with you. I'll hang on in the meantime in case one of them comes to grief over a badger-hole. It's your one chance if you're bent on getting through."
I would at that moment have gladly sold the rest of my life for the certainty of catching the train. To give my enemy no advantage was a great thing, and I felt that absence when my name was called would prejudice the most confiding against me. But that was, after all, a trifle compared with what I owed the men whohad probably stripped themselves of necessities to help me, and I felt that if I failed them a shame which could never be dissipated would follow me. Nevertheless, Steel's advice was sound, and I tightened my grip on the bridle with a smothered imprecation. Then my heart grew heavier, for the horse needed no pulling, and responded with an ominous alacrity.
We were still leagues from the railroad, and the miles of grasses flitted towards us ever more slowly. The last clump of birches took half an hour to raise, and the willows which fled behind us had been five long minutes taking the shape of trees. My watch was clenched in one hand, and, while bluff and ravine crawled, its fingers raced around the dial with an agonizing rapidity in testimony of the feebleness of flesh and blood when pitted against steel and steam. The clanging cars had swept clear of the foothills long ago, and the track ran straight and level across the prairie, a smooth empty road for the Accelerated to save time on in its race between the Pacific and the Laurentian waterway. When the prairie grew blurred before us, as it sometimes did, I could see instead the two huge locomotives veiled in dust and smoke thundering with a pitiless swiftness down the long converging rails, while the drumming of hoofs changed into the roar of wheels whose speed would brand me with dishonor. Yet we were doing all that man or beast could do, and at last a faint ray of hope and a new dismay came upon me. The difference in time had further lessened, but my horse was failing.
"Go on as you're going," shouted Steel, edging his whitened beast nearer. "I'm riding a stone lighter, and this beast has another hour's work left in him."
I went on, the horse growing more and more feeble and blundering in his stride, until at last, when it was a case of dismount or do murder, I dropped stiffly from the saddle. Steel was down in a second, and in another my jacket and vest were off, and I laid my foot to the stirrup in white shirt and trousers, with a handkerchief knotted around my waist.
"You'll startle the folks in Empress, and you can't strip off much more," said Steel.
"I'd ride into the depot naked sooner than rob the boys," I said; and was mounted before my comrade could reopen his mouth. When he did so his "Good luck!" sounded already faint and far away.
Steel's horse had more life left in him—one could feel it in his stride; but now that there was some hope of success I rode with more caution, sparing him up the low rises, and trying, so far as one might guess it, to keep within a very small margin of his utmost strength. So we pressed on until all the prairie grew dim to me, and my only distinct sensation was the rush of the cool wind. Then a flitting birch bluff roused me once more to watch, and minute by minute I strained my eyes for the first glimpse of the tall poles heralding the railroad track. At last a row of what looked like matches streaked the horizon, and grew in size until something that rose and fell with the heave of the prairie sea became visible beneath. Then, as we topped one of its grassy waves, a cluster of distant cubes loomed up, and a glance at the watch's racing fingers warned me that I was already behind the time that the train was due to reach the settlement. It might have passed; and a new torture was added until, when in an agony of suspense, I strained my eyes towards the west, a streak of whiteness crept out of the horizon.
The run of the Accelerated was at that time regarded as a national exploit, forming, as it did, part of a new link binding Japan and London—the East and the West; and I knew the conductor would hardly have waited for one of his own directors. The white streak rapidly grew larger; something sparkled beneath it, and there was flash of twinkling glass through the dust and steam. I fixed my eyes on the station, and taxed every aching sinew in hand and heel, for the weakening beast must bring me there in time or die. A smoke cloud, with bright patches beneath it, rolled up to the station when I was nearly half a mile away. The horse was reeling under me, the power had gone out of the leaden handson switch and bridle, and—for the tension had produced a vertigo—my sight was almost gone.
Hearing, however, still remained, and shouts of encouragement reached me, while I could dimly see the station close ahead, and shapeless figures apparently waving hats and arms. The clang of a big bell rang in my ears, the twin locomotives snorted, and I fell from the saddle, sprang towards the track, and clutched at the sliding rails of a car platform. I missed them; the car, swaying giddily, so it seemed, rolled past, and I hurled myself bodily at the next platform. Somebody clutched my shoulder and dragged me up, and I fell with a heavy crash against the door of a vestibule.
"Just in time," said a man in uniform. "Say, are you doing this for a wager, or are some mad cow-chasers after you?"