That Willis Marsh still retained some curiosity regarding Emerson's presence at the Annex on that night four weeks before, and that the young man's non-committal reply to his inquiry about the new enterprise mentioned by Mildred had not entirely satisfied him, was proved by the remark which he addressed to the girl the moment her father's departure afforded him an opportunity.
"You said Mr. Emerson's new proposition was better than mining, did you not?" He was the embodiment of friendly interest, showing just the proper degree of complaisant expectancy. "I am decidedly curious to know what undertaking is sufficiently momentous to draw a young man away from beauty's side up into such a wilderness, particularly in the dead of winter."
Miss Wayland's guarded reply gave Emerson a moment in which to collect his thoughts. He was still too much confused by the recent disclosures to adjust himself fully to the situation. The one idea uppermost in his mind was to enlighten Marsh as little as possible; for if this new train of events was really to prove his undoing, as already he half believed, he would at any rate save himself from the humiliation of acknowledging defeat. If, on the other hand, he should decide to go ahead and wage war against the trust as an independent packer, then secrecy for the present was doubly imperative.
Once Marsh gained an inkling that he and Big George were equipping themselves to go back to Kalvik—to Kalvik, Marsh's own stronghold, of all places!—he could and would thwart them without doubt. These thoughts flashed through Boyd's mind with bewildering rapidity, yet he managed to equal the other's show of polite indifference as he remarked:
"I am not far enough along with my plans to discuss them."
"Perhaps if I knew their nature I might—"
Boyd laughed. "I am afraid a hydraulic proposition would not interest such a hard-headed business man as you." To himself he added: "Good heavens! I am worse than Fraser with his nebulous schemes!"
"Oh, hydraulic mining? Well, hardly!" the other replied. "I understoodMiss Wayland to say that this was something better than a mine."
"Is a hydraulic a mine?" inquired Mildred; "I thought it was a water-power of some sort!"
"Once a miner always a miner," the younger man quoted, lightly.
As if with a shadow of doubt, Marsh next inquired:
"Didn't I meet you the other evening at the Annex?"
Boyd admitted the fact, with the air of one who exaggerates his interest in a trifling topic for the sake of conversation. He was beginning to be surprised at his own powers of dissimulation.
"And you were with George Balt?"
"Exactly. I picked him up on my way out from Nome; he was so thoroughly disgusted with Alaska that I helped him get back to the States."
Marsh's eyes gleamed at this welcome intelligence for certain misgivings had preyed upon him since that night of the encounter. He turned to the girl with the explanation:
"This fellow we speak of is a queer, unbalanced savage who nurses an insane hatred for me. I employed him once, but had to discharge him for incompetence, and he has threatened my life repeatedly. You may imagine the start it gave me to stroll into a cafe, at this distance from Kalvik, and find him seated at a near-by table."
"How strange!" Miss Wayland observed. "What did he do?"
"Mr. Emerson prevented him from making a scene. Only for his interference I might have been forced to—protect myself."
In spite of himself Boyd could not but wonder if Marsh were really the sort of man he had been painted; or if, as might appear sufficiently credible, he had been maligned through Cherry's prejudice and George Balt's hatred. To-night he seemed the most kindly and courteous of men.
Under Mildred's skilful direction the conversation had drifted into other channels by the time Mr. Wayland returned. Now, all at once, Boyd beheld the magnate in a new guise. Until to-night he had seen in him nothing more than a prospective father-in-law, a stubborn, dominant old fellow whose half-contemptuous toleration, unpleasant enough at times, never really amounted to active enmity. Now, however, he recognized in Wayne Wayland a commercial foe, and his knowledge of the man's character gave sufficient assurance that he might expect no mercy or consideration from him one moment after it transpired that their financial interests were in conflict.
So far the two had never seriously clashed, but sooner or later the capitalist must learn the truth; and when he did, when that iron-jawed, iron-willed autocrat once discovered that this youth whom he had taken into his home with so little thought of possible harm had actually dared to oppose him, his indignation would pass all bounds.
And then, for the first time, Emerson realized the impropriety of his own present position. He was here under false pretences; they had bared to him secrets not rightly his, with which he might arm himself. When this, too, became known to the financier, he would regard him not only as a presumptuous enemy, but as a traitor. Boyd knew the old tyrant too well to doubt his course of action; thenceforth there would be war to the hilt.
The enterprise which an hour ago had seemed so certain of success, the enterprise which he had fathered at such cost of labor and suffering, now seemed entirely hopeless. The futility of trying to oppose these men, equipped as they were with limitless means and experience, struck him with such force as to make him almost physically faint and sick. Even had his canning plant been open and running, he knew that they would never take him in; Wayne Wayland's consistent attitude toward him showed that plainly enough. And with nothing more tangible to offer than a half-born dream, they would laugh him to scorn. Furthermore, they had proclaimed their determination to choke all rivalry.
A sort of panic seized Boyd. If his present scheme fell through, what else could he do? Whither could he turn, even for his own livelihood, except back to the hateful isolation of a miner's life? That would mean other years as black as those just ended. There had been a time when he could boldly have taken the bit in his teeth and forced Mr. Wayland to reckon with him, but since his return Mildred herself had withdrawn her consent to a marriage that would mean immediate separation from the life that she loved. That course, therefore, was closed to him. If ever he was to win her, he must play this game of desperate chances to the end.
The announcement of dinner interrupted his dismayed reflections, and he walked out in company with Mr. Wayland, who linked arms with him as if to afford Willis Marsh every advantage, fleeting though it might prove.
"He is a wonderful fellow," the old gentleman observed,sotto voce, indicating Marsh—"one of the keenest business men I ever met."
"Yes?"
"Indeed, he is. He is a money-maker, too; his associates swear by him.If I were you, my boy, I would study him; he is a good man to imitate."
At the dinner-table the talk at first was general, and of a character appropriate for the hour, but Miss Wayland, oddly enough, seemed bent upon leading the discussion back into its former course, and displayed such an unusual thirst for information regarding the North American Packers' Association that her father was moved to remark upon it.
"What in the world has come over you, Mildred?" he said. "You never cared to hear about my doings before."
"Please don't discourage me," she urged. "I am really in earnest; I should like to know all about this new trust of yours. Perhaps my little universe is growing a bit tiresome to me."
"Miss Mildred is truly your daughter," Marsh observed, admiringly. "ButI fear the matter doesn't interest Mr. Emerson?"
"Oh, indeed it does," Mildred smilingly responded. "Doesn't it, Boyd?"
He flushed uncomfortably as he acquiesced.
"Now, please tell me more about it," the girl went on. "You know you are both full of the thing, and there are only we four here, so let's be natural; I am dreadfully tired of being conventional."
"Tut, tut!" exclaimed her father. "That comes of association with these untamed Westerners." Yet he plainly showed that he was flattered by her unexpected enthusiasm and more than ready to humor her.
Both men, in truth, were jubilant, and so thoroughly in tune with the subject which had obsessed them these past months that it took little urging to set them talking in harmony with the girl's wishes. Readily accepting the cue of informality, they grew communicative, and told of the troubles they had encountered in launching the gigantic combination, joking over the obstacles that had threatened to wreck it, and complimenting each other upon their persistence and sagacity.
Meanwhile, Emerson's discomfort steadily increased. He wondered if this were a deliberate effort on Mildred's part, or if she really had any idea of what bearing it all had upon his plans. The further it went, however, the more clearly he perceived the formidable nature of the new barrier between himself and Mildred which her father had unwittingly raised.
"So far it has been all hard work," Wayne Wayland at length announced, "but in the future I propose to derive some pleasure from this affair. I am tired out. For a long time I have been planning a trip somewhere, and now I think I shall make a tour of inspection in the spring and visit the various holdings of the North American Packers' Association. In that way I can combine recreation and business."
"But you detest travel as much as I do," said Mildred.
"This would be entirely different from ordinary travel. The first vice-president has his yacht on the Pacific Coast, and offers her to the board of directors for a summer's cruise."
"How far will you go?" questioned Boyd.
"Clear up to Mr. Marsh's station."
"Kalvik?"
"Yes; that is the plan," Marsh chimed in. "The scenery is more marvellous than that of Norway, the weather is delightful. Moreover,The Grande Dameis the best-equipped yacht on the Pacific, so the board of directors can take their families with them, and enjoy a wonderful outing among the fjords and glaciers beneath the midnight sun. You see, I am selfish in urging it, Miss Wayland. I expect you to join the party."
"I am sure you would like it, Mildred," the magnate added.
Boyd could scarcely believe his ears. Would they come to Kalvik? Would they all assemble there in that unmapped nook? And suppose they should—had he the courage to continue his mad enterprise? It was all so unreal! He was torn between the desire to have Mildred agree, and fear of the influence Marsh might gain during such a trip. But Miss Wayland evidently had an eye to her own comfort, for she replied:
"No, indeed! The one thing I abhor above land travel is a sea voyage; I am a wretched sailor."
"But this trip would be worth while," urged her father. "Why, it will be a regular voyage of discovery; I am as excited over it as a country boy on circus day."
Marsh seconded him with all his powers of persuasion, but the girl, greatly to Emerson's surprise, merely reaffirmed her determination.
"Oh, I dare say I should enjoy the scenery," she observed, with a glance at Boyd; "but, on the other hand, I don't care for rough things, and I prefer hearing about canneries to visiting them. They must be very smelly. Above all, I simply refuse to be seasick." In her eyes was a half-defiant look which Emerson had never seen there before.
"I am sorry," Marsh acknowledged, frankly. "You see, there are no women in our country; and six months without a word or a smile from your gentle sex makes a man ready to hate himself and his fellow-creatures."
"Are there no women in Alaska?" questioned the girl.
"In the mining-camps, yes, but we fishermen live lonely lives."
"But the coy, shrinking Indian maidens? I have read about them."
"They are terrible affairs," Marsh declared. "They are flat of nose, their lips are pierced, and they are very—well, dirty."
"Not always!" Boyd gave voice to his general annoyance and growing dislike for Marsh in an abrupt denial, "I have seen some very attractive squaws, particularly breeds."
"Where?" demanded the other, sceptically.
"Well, at Kalvik, for instance,"
"Kalvik!" ejaculated Marsh.
"Yes; your home. You must know Chakawana, the girl they call 'TheSnowbird'?"
"No."
"Come, come! She knows you very well."
"Ah, a mystery! He is concealing something!" cried Miss Wayland.
Marsh directed a sharp glance at Boyd before answering. "I presume you refer to Constantine's sister; I was speaking generally—of course, there are exceptions. As a matter of fact, I wasn't exactly right when I said we had no white women whatever at Kalvik. Mr. Emerson doubtless has met Cherry Malotte?"
"I have," acknowledged Boyd. "She was very kind to us."
"More damning disclosures," chuckled Mr. Wayland. "Pray, who is she?"
"I should like very much to know," Emerson answered.
"Oh, delightful!" exclaimed Mildred. "First, a beautiful Indian girl; now, a mysterious white woman! Why, Kalvik is decidedly interesting."
"There is nothing mysterious about the white woman," said Marsh. "She is quite typical—just a plain mining camp hanger-on who drifted down our way."
"Not at all," Boyd disclaimed, angrily. "Miss Malotte is a fine woman;" then, at Marsh's short laugh, "and her conduct bears favorable comparison with that of the other white people at Kalvik."
Marsh allowed his eyes to waver at this, but to Mildred he apologized."She is not the sort one cares to discuss."
"How do you know?" demanded Cherry's champion. "Do you know anything against her character?"
"I know she is a disturbing element at Kalviks and has caused us a great deal of trouble."
It was Boyd's turn to laugh. "But surely that has nothing to do with her character."
"My dear fellow"—Marsh shrugged his shoulders apologetically—"if I had dreamed she was a friend of yours, I never would have spoken."
"She is a friend," Emerson persisted doggedly, "and I admire her because she is a girl of spirit. If she had not been possessed of enough courage to disregard your instructions, I might have been forced to eject your watchman and take possession of one of your canneries."
"We can't entertain all comers. We leave that to Miss Malotte."
"And George Balt, eh?"
"Dear! dear!" laughed Miss Wayland. "I feel as if I were at a meeting of the Woman's Guild."
"In our business we must adhere to a definite policy," Marsh explained to the others. "Sometimes we are misjudged by travellers who consider us heartless, but we can't take care of every one."
"Not even your sick natives. Well, but for Miss Malotte some of your fishermen would have starved this winter, and you might have been short-handed next year."
"We give them work. Why should we support them?"
"I don't know of any legal reason, and ethics don't count for much up there. Nevertheless, Cherry Malotte has seen to it that the children, at least, haven't suffered. She saved a little brother of this Constantine you mention."
"Constantine has no brother," Marsh answered. "I happen to know, because he worked for me."
"This was a little red-headed youngster."
"Ah!" Marsh's ejaculation was sharp. "What was the matter with it?"
"Measles."
"Did it get well?"
"It was getting along all right when I left."
The other fell silent, while Miss Wayland inquired, curiously: "What is this mysterious woman like?"
"She is young, refined—thoroughly nice in every way."
"Good-looking also, I dare say?"
"Very."
She was about to pursue her inquiries further, but the dinner was finished and Mr. Wayland had asked for his favorite cigars, so she rose and Boyd accompanied her, leaving the others to smoke. But, strangely enough, Marsh remained in such a state of preoccupation, even after their departure, that Mr. Wayland's attempts at conversation elicited only the vaguest and shortest of answers.
In the music-room Mildred turned upon Boyd. "Why didn't you tell me about this woman before?"
"I didn't think of her."
"And yet she is young, beautiful, refined, lives a romantic sort of existence, and entertained you—" She tossed her head.
"Are you jealous?" he inquired, with a smile.
"Of such a person? Certainly not."
"I wish you were," he confessed, truthfully. "If you would only get really jealous, I should be delighted. I should begin to feel a little sure of you."
She seated herself at the piano and struck a few idle notes, inquiring, casually: "Kalvik is the name of the place where you are going, isn't it?"
"It is."
"I suppose you will see a great deal of this—Cherry Malotte?"
"Undoubtedly, inasmuch as we are partners."
"Partners!" Mildred ceased playing and swung about. "What do you mean?"
"She is interested in this enterprise; the cannery site is hers."
"I see!" After a moment, "Does this new affair of father's have any particular effect on your plans?"
"Yes and no," he answered, feeling again the weight of this last complication, forgotten for the moment.
"What do you wish me to do?"
"Nothing; only for the present please don't mention my scheme either to him or to Mr. Marsh. I am a bit uncertain as to my course. You see, it means so much to me that I can't bear to give it up, and yet it may lead to great—unpleasantness."
She nodded, comprehendingly.
The others joined them, and Boyd made his adieus; but in leaving he bore with him a weight of doubt and uneasiness in strange contrast with the buoyancy he had felt upon his arrival.
Willis Marsh, on the contrary, lost no time in emerging from his taciturn mood upon Boyd's departure, and seemed filled with even more than his accustomed optimism. Whatever had been the cause of his transitory depression, he could not fail to reflect that his fortunes had been singularly fair of late; and now that the other man was out of the way, Miss Wayland, for the first time in his acquaintance, began to display a lively interest in his affairs, which made his satisfaction complete. She questioned him closely regarding his work and habits in the North, letting down her reserve to such an unparalleled extent that when Mr. Wayland at last excused himself and retired to the library, Marsh felt that the psychological moment had arrived.
[Illustration: MILDRED CEASED PLAYING AND SWUNG ABOUT—"WHAT DO YOUMEAN?"]
"This has been a day of triumphs for me," he stated, "and I am anxious to crown it with even a greater good-fortune."
"Don't be greedy," the girl cautioned.
"That is man's nature."
She laughed lightly. "Having used my poor, yielding parent for your own needs, you now wish to employ his innocent child in the same manner. Is there no limit to your ambition?"
"There is, and I can reach it with your help."
"Please don't count on me; I am the most disappointing of creatures."
But he disregarded her words. "I hope not; at any rate, I must know."
"I warn you," she said.
"Nevertheless, I insist; and yet—I don't quite know how to begin. It isn't a new story to you perhaps—what I am trying to say—but it is to me, I can assure you—and it means everything to me. I don't even have to tell you what it is—you must have seen it in my eyes. I—I have never cared much for women—I am a man's man, but—"
"Please don't," she interrupted, quietly. But he continued, unheeding:
"You must know that I love you. Every man must love you, but no man could love you more than I do. I—I could make a lot of romantic avowals, Miss—Mildred, but I am not an adept at such things. You can make me very happy if—"
"I am sorry—"
"I know. What I have said is trite, but my whole heart is in it. Your father approves, I am quite sure, and so it all rests with you."
For the first time the girl realized the deadly earnestness of the man and felt the unusual force of his personality, which made it seem no light matter to refuse him. He took his disappointment quietly, however, and raised himself immensely in her estimation by his graceful acceptance of the inevitable.
"It is pretty hard on a fellow," he smiled, "but please don't let it make any difference in our relations. I hope to remain a welcome visitor and to see as much of you as before."
"More, if you wish."
"I begin to understand that Mr. Emerson is a lucky chap." He still smiled.
She ignored his meaning, and replied: "Boyd and I have been the closest of friends for many years."
"So I have been told," and he smiled at her again, in the same manner.Somehow the smile annoyed her—it seemed to savor of self-confidence.When he bade her good-bye an hour later he was still smiling.
Mr. Wayland was busy over some rare first edition, recently received from his English collector, when she sought him out in the library. He looked up to inquire:
"Has Willis gone?"
"Yes. He sent you his adieus by me." A moment later she added: "He asked me to marry him."
"Of course," nodded the magnate, "they all do that. What did you say?"
"What I always say."
"H'm!" He tapped his eyeglasses meditatively upon the bridge of his high-arched nose. "You might do worse. He suits me."
"I have no doubt he could hold the millions together. In fact, he is the first one I have seen of whose ability in that line I am quite certain. However—" She made a slight gesture of dismissal.
"I hope you didn't offend him?"
She raised her brows.
"Forgive me. I might have known—" He stared at the page before him for a moment. "You have a certain finality about you that is almost masculine. They never return to the charge—"
"Oh yes," she demurred. "There is Alton Clyde, for instance—"
Mr. Wayland dismissed Clyde with an inarticulate grunt of contempt which measured that young man's claim to consideration more comprehensively than could a wealth of words.
"I would think it over if I were you," he advised. Then he pondered."If you would only change your mind, occasionally, like other girls—"
"I have changed my mind to-night—since Mr. Marsh left."
"Good!" he declared, heartily.
"Yes. I have decided to go to Kalvik with you."
On that very night, in a little, snow-smothered cabin crouching close against the Kalvik bluffs, another girl was seated at a piano. Her slim, white fingers had strayed upon the notes of a song which Boyd Emerson had sung. In her dream-filled eyes was the picture of a rough-garbed, silent man at her shoulder, and in her ears was the sound of his voice. Clear to the last melting note she played the air, and then a pitiful sob shook her. She bowed her golden head and hid her face in her arms, for a memory was upon her, a forgotten kiss was hot upon her lips, and she was very lonely.
At the hotel Emerson found Clyde and Fraser in Balt's room awaiting him. They were noisy and excited at the success of the enterprise and at the prospect of immediate action.
Quoth "Fingerless" Fraser: "It has certainly lifted a load off my mind to put this deal through."
Emerson was forced to smile. "Now that you have succeeded," said he, "what next?"
"Back to the Coast. This town is a bum."
"Are you going west with us?"
"Sure! Why not? This game ain't opened yet."
"How long are we to be favored with your assistance?"
"Hard telling. I want to see you get off on the right foot; I'd feel bad if you fell down."
"Well, of all—"
"Let him rave," advised George. "He can't sell us nothing."
"I didmyshare, anyhow," Alton Clyde declared, curling up comfortably in his chair, with a smile of such beatitude that Fraser cried:
"Now purr! Nice kitty! Seems like I can see a canary feather sticking to your mustache."
"It is my debut in business," Clyde explained. "It's my commercial coming-out party. I never did anything useful before in my whole life, so, naturally, I'm all swelled up."
"It ain't necessary for me to itemizemystatement," Fraser observed. "A moment's consecutive thought will show anybody who's capable of bearing the strain of that much brain effort where I came in." Gazing upon them with prophetic eye, he announced: "And mark what I say, gents: I'll be even a bigger help to you before you get through. You do the rough work; I'll be there with the bottle of oil and the hand-polish. Yes, sir! When the time comes I'll go down in the little bag of tricks and dig up anything you need, from a jig dance to a jimmy and a bottle of soup."
"I know what you call 'soup'!" exclaimed Alton, with lively interest."Did you ever crack a safe? By Jove, that's immense!"
"I've worked in banks, considerable," "Fingerless" Fraser admitted, with admirable caution. "What I mean to say is, I'm a general handy man, and I may be useful, so you better let me stick around."
Boyd told them little of the news that had startled him earlier in the evening, beyond the bare fact that Marsh had floated a packers' trust, and that secrecy, for the present, was now doubly necessary to the success of their undertaking. The full significance of the merger, therefore, did not strike his associates, even when, on the train, the next day, they read the announcement of its formation in the newspapers. Balt alone took notice of it, and fell into a furious rage at his enemy's success.
Alton Clyde, on the other hand, was more than ever elated over his share in a conspiracy threatened by so formidable a foe; and when Emerson constituted him a sort of secretary, with duties mainly of sending and receiving telegrams, his delight was beyond measure. He grew, in fact, insufferably conceited, and his overweening sense of his own importance became a severe trial to Fraser, who was roused to his most elaborate efforts of sarcasm. The adventurer wasted hours in a search for fitting similes by which to measure the clubman's general and comprehensive ineptitude, all of which rebounded from his victim's armor of complacency.
No sooner were they fairly under way for the West than Emerson began the definite shaping of his plans. He and George carefully went over the many details of their coming work and sent many messages, with the result that outfitters in a dozen lines were awaiting them when they arrived in Seattle. Without loss of time Boyd installed himself and his friends at a hotel, secured a competent and close-mouthed stenographer, and then sought out the banker with whom he had made a tentative agreement before going to Chicago. Mr. Hilliard greeted him cordially.
"I see you have carried out your part of the programme," said he; "but before we definitely commit ourselves, we should like to know what effect this new trust is going to have on the canning business."
"You mean the N. A. P. A.?"
"Precisely. Our Chicago correspondent can't tell us any more than we have learned from the press—namely, that a combination has been formed. We are naturally somewhat cautious about financing a competitive plant until we know what policy the trust will pursue."
Here was exactly the complication Boyd had feared; therefore, it was with some trepidation that he argued:
"The trust is in business for the money, and its very formation ought to be conclusive evidence of your good judgment. However, you have backed so many plants such as mine that you know, as well as I do, the big profits to be taken."
"That isn't the point. Ordinarily we would not waver an instant, but the Wayland-Marsh outfit is apt to upset conditions. If we only knew—"
"I know!" boldly declared Boyd. "Mr. Wayland outlined his policy to me before the public knew anything about the trust."
"Indeed? Are you acquainted with Wayne Wayland?" asked Mr. Hilliard, with a new light of curiosity in his eyes.
"I know him well."
"Ah! I congratulate you. Perhaps this is—er, Wayland money behind you?"
"That I am not at liberty to discuss," the younger man replied, evasively. "However, just to make your loan absolutely sure, I have taken steps to sell my season's output in advance. The commission men will be in town shortly, and I shall contract for the entire catch at a stipulated price. Is that satisfactory?"
"Entirely so," declared Mr. Hilliard, heartily. "Go ahead and order your machinery and supplies." As Boyd rose to go, he added, "By the way, what do you know about the mineral possibilities of the region back of Kalvik?"
"Not much; the country is new. There is a—woman at Kalvik who has some men out prospecting."
"Cherry Malotte?"
"Do you know her?" asked Boyd, with astonishment.
"Very well, indeed. I have had some correspondence with her quite recently." Then, noting Boyd's evident curiosity, he went on: "You see, I have made a number of mining investments in the North—entirely on my own account," he hastened to explain. "Of course, the bank could not do such a thing. My operations have turned out so well that I keep several men just to follow new strikes."
"Has Miss Malotte made a strike?"
"Not exactly, but she has uncovered some promising copper prospects."
"H'm! That is news to me. It is rather a small country, after all, isn't it?" He would have liked to ask the banker certain further questions, but resisted the temptation, and shortly after plunged into his work so vigorously that the subject faded wholly from his mind.
Now it was that George Balt made his importance felt. In the days which followed he and Boyd toiled early and late, for a thousand things needed doing at once. Promptness was, above all things, the essence of this enterprise, and the lumber merchants, coal dealers, machinery salesmen, and ship chandlers with whom they dealt vowed they never had met men who reached their decisions so quickly and labored not only with such consuming haste, but with such unerring certainty. There was no haggling over prices, no loss of time in seeking competitive bids; and because George always knew precisely what he wanted, their task of selection became comparatively easy. With every detail of the business he was familiar, from long experience. There was no piece of machinery that he did not know better than its makers. There was never any hesitancy as between rival types or loading down with superfluous gear. His main concern was for dates of delivery.
Three weeks passed quickly in strenuous effort, and then one morning the partners awoke to the realization that there was little more for them to do. Orders were in, shipments had started. They had well-nigh completed the charter of a ship, and a sailing date had been set. There were numerous details yet to be arranged, but the enterprise was in motion, and what remained was simple. Despite their desperate hurry they had made no mistakes, and for this the credit lay largely with Big George.
Through it all Clyde had lent them enthusiastic if feeble assistance; and now that the strain was off, he gave fitting expression to his delight by getting drunk. Being temperamental to a degree, he craved company; and, knowing full well the opposition he would encounter from his friends, he annexed a bibulous following of loafers whose time hung heavy and who were at all times eager to applaud a loose tongue so long as it was accompanied by a loose purse. Toward midnight "Fingerless" Fraser, cruising in a nocturnal search for adventure and profit, found him in a semi-maudlin state, descanting vaporously to his train; and, upon catching mention of the Kalvik fisheries, snatched him homeward and put him to bed, after which he locked him into his room, threw the key over the transom, and stood guard outside until assured that he slept.
At an early hour the adventurer was peremptorily roused, to findEmerson hammering at his door in a fine fury.
"What is this?" demanded Boyd, through white lips, thrusting a morning paper before Fraser's sleepy eyes.
"It's a newspaper," yawned the other—"a regular newspaper."
"Where did this story come from?" With menacing finger Boyd indicated a front column, headed:
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"No; I never read anything but the 'Past Performances' and the funny page. What does it say?"
"It is the whole story of our enterprise, but ridiculously garbled and exaggerated. It says I have headed a new canning company to buck the trust. It tells about George's feud with Marsh, and says we have both been secretly preparing to down him. Good Lord! It's liable to queer us with the bank and upset the whole deal."
"I didn't give it out."
"It is all done in your particularly picturesque style," declared Emerson, angrily. "Alton swears he knows nothing about it, so you must have done it. It is too nearly correct to have come from a stranger."
"Well?" inquired Fraser, quietly.
"The harm is done, but I want to know who is to blame." When the other made no answer except to stare at him curiously, he flamed up, "Why don't you confess?"
For the first time during their acquaintance, "Fingerless" Fraser seemed at a loss for words; but whether for shame or some other motive, his companion was unable to tell. His nature was so warped that his emotions expressed themselves in ways not always easy to follow, and now he merely remarked, with apparent sullenness:
"I'm certainly a hot favorite with you." He clambered stiffly back into bed and turned his defiant face to the wall, nor would he meet his accuser's eyes or open his lips, even when Boyd flung out of the room, convinced that he was the culprit.
All that day Emerson waited fearfully for some word from Hilliard, but night came without it; and when several days in succession had passed without a sign from the banker, he breathed more easily. He had already begun to assure himself that, after all, the exposure would have no effect, when one evening the call he dreaded came. A telephone message summoned him to the bank at eleven o'clock the following morning.
"That means trouble," he grimly told George.
"Maybe not," the big fisherman replied. "If Hilliard took any stock in the story, it seems like he'd have jumped you the next day."
"Our machinery is ordered. You realize what it will mean if he backs water now?"
"Sure! We'll have to go to some other bank."
"Humph! I'll wring Fraser's neck," muttered Emerson. "We have troubles enough without any new ones."
It was with no little anxiety that he asked for the banker at the appointed hour, and was shown into an anteroom, with the announcement:
"Mr. Hilliard is busy; he wishes you to wait."
Inside the glass partition Boyd heard a woman's voice and Hilliard's laughter. He took some comfort in the thought that the banker was in a good-humor, at least; but, being too nervous to sit still, he stood at the window, gazing with vacant eyes at the busy street crowds. Facing him, across the way, was a bulletin-board in front of a newspaper office; and, after a time, he noted idly among its various items of information the announcement that the mail steamerQueenhad arrived at midnight from Skagway. He wondered why Cherry had not written. Surely she must be anxious to know his progress. He should have advised her of his whereabouts.
The door to Hilliard's office opened, and he heard the rustle of a woman's dress; then his own name spoken—"Come in, Mr. Emerson."
His attention centred on the approaching interview, he did not glance toward the departing visitor until she stopped suddenly at the outer door, and came straight toward him with outstretched hands.
"Boyd!"
He checked himself, and turned to face Cherry Malotte.
"Why, Cherry," he ejaculated, "what in the world—" He took her two hands in his, and she laughed up into his face. "In the name of Heaven, where did you come from?"
"I arrived last night on theQueen," she said. "Oh, I'm glad to see you!"
"But what brings you to the States? I thought you were in Kal—"
"Sh-h!" She laid a finger on her lips, with a glance over her shoulder at the door to the inner office. "I'll tell you about it later."
"Mr. Hilliard will see you now, sir," the attendant announced toEmerson.
"I must talk to you right away!" Boyd exclaimed, hurriedly. "I won't be long. Can you wait?"
"Certainly; I'll wait right here. Only hurry, hurry!"
The pleasure of seeing her was so genuine that he squeezed her hands heartily, and entered Hilliard's sanctum with a smile on his lips. It was gone, however, when he reappeared a half-hour later, and in its place an expression which caused her to inquire, quickly, "What is the matter? Is something wrong?"
He nodded, but it was not until they had reached the outer office that he said: "Yes, something is decidedly wrong." Then, in answer to her further question: "Wait a while; I'm too angry to talk. I'll have to tell you all about it before you'll understand." He began to mutter harshly under his breath: "Come along. We'll have lunch, and I'll explain. First, however, tell me why you came out at this season."
"I have a big mining deal on with Mr. Hilliard. He sent for me, and I came. Oh, I hardly know where to begin! But you remember when you were in Kalvik I told you that I had several men out prospecting?"
"Yes."
"Well, last summer, long before you came through, one of them located a ledge of copper."
"You never told me."
"There wasn't anything to tell at that time—I hadn't received any assay reports, and I didn't know whether the thing was worth telling; but shortly after you left the returns came in, and they showed remarkable values. Now here is the wonderful part of the story. Unknown to me, my man had sent out other samples and a letter to a friend of his here in Seattle. That man had assays made on his own account, and came to Mr. Hilliard with the result. The very next boat brought him and Hilliard's expert to Katmai. They came over with the mail-carrier. We had opened up the ore body somewhat in the mean time, and it didn't take those men long to see what we had. They were back at my place in no time with a proposition. When I refused to tie up the ground, they made me come out with them—foxy Mr. Halliard had foreseen what would happen, and instructed them to bring me to him if they had to kidnap me. Well, I was a willing victim, and here I am, prepared to deal with Mr. Banker, provided we can reach an agreement. What do you think of me as a business woman?"
Boyd smiled at her enthusiasm. "I think you are fine in every way, andI hope you take all of his money away from him. I can't get any."
"It will take a lot of capital and time to develop the mine, and I am fighting now for control—he is a tight-fisted old fellow."
"I should say he is," remarked Emerson. "He has just thrown a bomb into our camp that makes my teeth rattle. He promised to back me for one hundred thousand dollars, and this morning went back on his word and lay down, absolutely."
"Begin at the beginning, and tell me everything," commanded the girl. "I'm dying to know what you have been doing. Now, right from the start, mind you."
They had reached Emerson's hotel, and, escorting her to the luncheon-room, he proceeded to trace his progress from the day he had bade her farewell in the snows of Kalvik. They had finished their meal before his narrative came to a close.
"To-day Hilliard called me in and coolly informed me that his bank could not make the loan he had promised me, notwithstanding the fact that I had relied on his assurances and ordered my supplies, which are now being shipped."
"Did he offer any reason for his withdrawal?"
"Oh, I dare say he gave a reason, but he beclouded it with so many words that it was merely a fog by the time he got through. All I could distinguish in the general obscurity was that he would not produce. He said something about the bank being overloaded and the board refusing its consent. It's remarkable what a barricade a banker can build out of one board."
"And yet, as I understand it, you have sold your output in advance, at a fixed price."
"Correct."
"It is very strange! The bank would be perfectly safe."
"He merely bulkheaded himself in with a lot of smooth language, and when I tried to argue myself over I just slid off. The moment I stepped into his office I felt the temperature drop. Something new has come up; what it is, I don't know. Anyhow, he froze me out."
"We must raise that money somewhere or we are ruined," Cherry observed, with decision.
"Well, rather!" Boyd agreed, with a desperate grimace.
The girl laughed. "Mr. Hilliard and I merely tried each other's mettle this morning. I am to return at four."
"Let's meet later and dress each other's wounds," he suggested. Cherry's presence had heartened him wonderfully, and the sight of her brightly animated face across the table inspired him with a kind of joyous courage, the like of which he had scarcely felt since their former meeting. In her company his worries had almost disappeared, laughter had become a living thing, and youth a blessing.
"I'll agree to anything," she answered; then, becoming suddenly earnest, she spoke with shining eyes: "Mr. Hilliard is going to open up this copper, and it is going to make me rich—rich! I can't tell you what that means to me—you wouldn't understand. I can leave that whole North Country behind me, and all that it signifies. I can be what I want to be—what I really am."
Boyd saw the great yearning in her eyes, saw that she was fairly breathless with the intensity of her hope. He reached forth and, taking her tightly clasped hands in his, said, simply:
"If I can help you in any way it will be my greatest pleasure." Her glance dropped before his straight gaze, and she answered:
"You are a good man. I am glad to have you for a friend. But you will pardon my selfishness, won't you? I didn't mean to put forward my own affairs when yours are going so badly."
"They went very well," he declared, "until I tried to climb this—glacier."
"Did that newspaper story frighten Mr. Hilliard?"
"I couldn't make out whether it did or not."
"Let's see! It was nearly a week ago that it appeared."
"Five days, to be exact."
"It takes three days to come from Chicago, doesn't it?"
"What has that to do with it?"
"Hasn't it struck you as strange that Hilliard should wait until you had sewed yourself up in a web of contracts and obligations before advising you of the bad news?"
"If you mean that this is the doing of that Chicago outfit, why did they wait so long? If the Associated Press sent that item to Chicago, or if they were advised from here, why didn't they wire back? It all could have been effected by telegraph in no time."
"It wouldn't be possible to do such a thing by wire or by mail, and, besides, Willis Marsh doesn't work that way. If that despatch was printed in Chicago, and if he saw it, I predict trouble for you in raising one hundred thousand dollars in Seattle."
"You are not a bit reassuring. However, I shall soon determine." He arose. "I'll call for you at seven, and I'll wager right now that your fears are groundless. Prepare to see me return with a ring through the nose of our giant."
"At seven, sharp!" she agreed. "Meanwhile I shall delight myself with a shopping expedition. I'm a perfect sight."
At seven she descended from her room in answer to his call, to find him pacing the hotel parlor, his jaw set stubbornly.
"What luck?" she demanded.
"You spoke with the tongue of a prophet. Money has suddenly become very scarce in Seattle."
"How many banks did you try?"
"Three. I shall try the rest to-morrow. How did you fare?"
"First blood is mine. I feel that I shall capture Mr. Hilliard. Now, no more business, do you understand? No, you are not to mention the subject again. You need a rest. Do you know that your face is haggard and drawn? You are tired out."
After a moment's pause, he acknowledged: "I believe I am. I—I am very glad you have come, Cherry."