The Silver Horde Part 26

"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 a.s.surance 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 pa.s.s 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 att.i.tude 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 a.s.sociates 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'

a.s.sociation 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. "But I 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 a.s.sociation 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' a.s.sociation. 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 Dame_ is 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 a.s.semble 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 s.e.x 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!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Marsh.

"Yes; your home. You must know Chakawana, the girl they call 'The s...o...b..rd'?"

"No."

"Come, come! She knows you very well."