The Lure of the North Part 19

Then he glanced at his watch and got up with an impatient shrug. He had forgotten his work while he thought about the girl, and there was much to be done. For one thing, he had come up to see if the smith had tempered some boring tools; and then he must send the _Metis_ river-jacks to float a raft of props down to the mine. Pulling himself together, he set about the work with characteristic energy, but as he walked through the murmuring woods he unconsciously began to sing a romantic ballad he had learned when a boy. Presently, however, he stopped and smiled. It looked as if he were getting sentimental, and one must guard against that kind of thing.

CHAPTER XVII

DRUMMOND OFFERS HELP

It was a calm evening and Thirlwell and Scott sat outside the shack, watching the river while the sunset faded across the woods. A few _Metis_ freighters had gone to the settlements for supplies and mining tools, and although much depended on the condition of the portages, Scott expected them that night.

"Antoine will bring up our mail," he said. "It's some time since Miss Strange has written to you about her plans."

Thirlwell said it was nearly three months, and Scott resumed: "Well, I think if I'd had a part in the business, I'd have tried to find if the Hudson's Bay agent was alive. It's possible that he could tell you something about the location of the ore."

"I don't know that I have any part in the business," Thirlwell replied.

"I promised to go with Miss Strange, but that's all."

"If she finds the lode, she'll need a mining engineer."

"She'll have no trouble in engaging one if the pay is good."

"But you wouldn't think you had first claim to the post? In fact, if you helped the girl to find the ore, you'd be satisfied to drop out and leave her alone?"

Thirlwell frowned. He had made no plans for the future and certainly did not mean to trade upon Agatha's grat.i.tude, but he knew it would hurt him, so to speak, to drop out and let her look for other help.

"The lode isn't found yet," he rejoined.

"Anyhow, I feel that the girl or you ought to have got on the agent's track," Scott insisted. "He knew where Strange went, and saw him when he returned. It's possible that Strange confused his memory by his subsequent trips, but the agent heard his story when the matter was fresh."

Thirlwell did not answer, and Scott cut some tobacco. When he had finished he looked up the river.

"The _bateaux!_ Antoine has made good time."

Two craft drew out of the shadow of the pines, slid down the swift current, and presently grounded on a gravel beach. They were of the canoe type, but larger, and their bottoms were flat, since they were rather built for carrying goods than paddling fast. There was a good water route to the rocky height of land, across which the cargo was brought on the freighters' backs from a river that joined the wagon trail to the settlements. As soon as they landed, the crews began to carry up boxes and packages, but a young man left the group and came towards the shack. He wore neat store-clothes that were not much the worse for the journey, and although his skin was somewhat dark, looked like a young business man from the cities.

"Which of you is Mr. Thirlwell?" he asked.

"I am," said Thirlwell. "Who are you?"

"Ian Drummond; the boys call me Jake. A son of Hector Drummond's of Longue Sault factory."

"Ah," said Scott, "this gets interesting! Did Hector Drummond send you?"

"No; he died nine years since."

Scott gave Thirlwell a meaning look, and turned to the young man.

"Then what do you want?"

"To begin with, I want a job."

"A job?" said Scott with some surprise. "What can you do?"

"I know nothing about mining, but I'm pretty strong," Drummond answered, giving Scott a deerskin bag. "Anyhow, Mr. Thirlwell had better read his letter before you hire me. Antoine, the _patron_, brought up your mail."

"Very well," said Scott. "The cook will give the boys supper soon and you had better go along. Come back afterwards."

When the lad had gone, Thirlwell felt pleasantly excited as he opened a letter Scott took out of the bag, for he saw it was from Agatha. She told him that Drummond had met her in Toronto and related how Stormont had victimized him. The young man stated that he wanted to see the North and would like to get work where he could watch for the prospecting party he thought Stormont would send up.

"I warned him that you may not be able to give him employment, but he is keen about going and willing to take the risk," she said. "We can, I think, trust him to some extent, and perhaps he knows enough about my father's journey to be useful; but I cannot tell if it would be prudent to offer him a reward. I am glad to feel I can leave this to you, and will, of course, agree to the line you think it proper to take."

Thirlwell read part of the letter to Scott, who said, "Miss Strange seems to have a flattering confidence in your judgment. Do you want me to hire the fellow?"

"I don't know yet. I wouldn't ask you to engage him unless he could be of use."

"You needn't hesitate on that ground, since we're two men short," Scott answered, smiling. "Well, suppose we wait until we have talked to him. I guess you know this silver-lode is getting hold of me."

"I wonder why!"

Scott laughed. "You understand machines and rocks; to some extent I understand men. Anyhow, I find them interesting, and perhaps other people's firm belief in the lode influences me."

By and by Drummond came back and Scott studied him as he advanced. He saw the lad had a strain of Indian blood, and he knew something about the half-breeds' character. They were marked by certain weaknesses, but as a rule inherited a slow tenacity from their Indian ancestors. He had known a man, shot through the body, walk four hundred miles to reach a doctor, and they made the revenging of serious injuries a duty. A _Metis_ would wait the greater part of a lifetime for a chance of repaying in kind a man who had wronged him. Drummond looked somewhat dissipated and had a superficial smartness that young men without much education acquire in Canadian towns, but Scott thought him intelligent.

"Sit down," he said, indicating a short pine-stump. "You want a job. Is that all?"

"Yes," said Drummond coolly, "it's all I want _now_. If you and Mr.

Thirlwell mean to look for the ore and take me along, you can give me what you think my help is worth. But I've already put Miss Strange wise."

"You seem to be pretty trustful! How did you find her?"

"My father knew where Strange, located after he left the factory, and I tried to get on the track of his folks when Stormont turned me down.

Talked to packing-house drummers at a department store in Winnipeg where I was employed, and found a man who sold Strange canned goods when he ran a grocery business. The drummer had known him pretty well and told me Miss Strange was in Toronto. By and by, when trade was slack in Winnipeg, the firm sent some of the clerks to their Toronto store and I bothered the department boss until he let me go. Then I was 'most a month locating Miss Strange; couldn't find her in the directory and Toronto's a big town."

Scott noted the determination that had helped him in his search. "You knew about the lode for some time," he said. "Why did you wait so long?"

"I allowed there wasn't much use in my b.u.t.ting in, until I read in a newspaper that Strange was drowned. Besides, the drummer reckoned his own folks thought him a crank and there was nothing to his tale. All the same, when I got tired of keeping store I thought I'd see what I could do about the lode."

"I suppose it was because the drummer put you wise that you went to Miss Strange and not her brother? No doubt you tried to interest other people first. Still, as she promised you nothing, I don't see why you came here."

"Stormont played me for a sucker; found out all I knew and turned me down!" Drummond answered with a savage sparkle in his eyes.

Scott was silent for a few moments and then looked up. "You can begin work to-morrow and Mr. Thirlwell will pay you what you're worth. We'll make no further promise, but if you like, you can tell us anything you think important."

"Miss Strange knows," said Drummond with a curious smile. "You want to remember that I told Stormont the creek runs _south_. She does run south, for a piece, but she turns and goes down a valley to the east."

"Then it's hard to see your object for playing the crook with Stormont, though I don't suppose he'd have done the square thing if you had put him on the right track," Scott remarked. "However, that's not our business. You'll find room and some blankets in the bunk-house."