The Lure of the North Part 37

"I'm going to find out," George said grimly. "In the meantime, it's not important. I reckon you understand what this thing implies? If these people won't support Agatha's application, she can't get another post.

She'd have made her mark teaching, but now all that's gone; she's turned down, and I'm responsible!"

"You are not to blame. I wonder whether she really knew the risk?"

"She knew she'd lose her job, but it wouldn't stop her; Agatha's like that! Anyhow, I am to blame," George rejoined. "I'm the head of the family and ought to have made her cut out the blamed foolish notion. I knew what the lode meant to my mother and how she hated to hear the old man talk about it. It took him--and now it's got my sister--"

He stopped, struggling with emotion, and Mrs. Farnam said:

"Perhaps I ought to have given Agatha a plainer hint; but, except for school managers, we're not very conventional people in this country.

Then I liked her pluck. It's weak to give way to the prejudices of censorious folks. Besides, in a sense, she really wasn't rash."

"That's not the trouble," George replied with heat. "I know my sister; so do you! But she's got to start business since she can't teach school, and I hate to think of her clerking in a store. She has talent and ambition."

"Talent will make its way anywhere," Farnam remarked consolingly.

"I don't know! Agatha's proud and has no use for the cheap tricks that help you get ahead of the other man. She won't advertise her smartness and she's too dignified to s.n.a.t.c.h at chances among the scrambling crowd.

I've pushed through; but it has put some marks on me, and I'm most afraid my sister's going to be hurt."

"You're taking it for granted she won't find the lode," Farnam resumed.

"Shucks!" said George with scorn. "All the comfort I've got is knowing she won't have the money to waste on looking for the ore again--"

He stopped and listened to a rattle of wheels. "Some of your friends coming? Don't mean to be rude, but I hope they're not. I'm not in a mood to talk to strangers."

"We expect n.o.body," Farnam replied. "I ordered some goods from Kingston, and Gordon's man promised to bring them from the depot if they came."

The rattle got louder, but the trees hid the rig, which was approaching the back of the house. It stopped, there were steps in the hall, and Mrs. Farnam turned with an exclamation. Farnam pushed his chair back and George sprang upright as Agatha came out on the veranda.

She was very brown and thin; her clothes were new, but obviously cheap and the fit was bad. As she glanced at the group she smiled and there was nothing in her tranquil manner to indicate the repentant prodigal.

She kissed Mrs. Farnam and gave George her hand.

"It really looks as if you were rather surprised than pleased," she remarked.

"We're both," said Mrs. Farnam. "But how did you come? It's some time since the Toronto train got in. George has been here nearly an hour."

"Your neighbor's hired man drove me from the station. I came by Amprior and Prescott; there was a wash-out on the Sudbury track. But what was George doing at Toronto?"

"Looking after your business," George replied. "I'm afraid you've got to brace up. They told me you were fired!"

Agatha laughed. "I expected something like that! It really doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter!" George exclaimed, and gasped with indignation.

"Anyhow, it matters to me. I've been fuming and fretting since I saw your princ.i.p.al." He turned to the others, as if for support. "What can you do with a girl who talks in this way? How'm I to make her understand?"

"I think you had better wait a little," Mrs. Farnam said and glanced at Agatha. "But did you travel in those clothes, my dear? Where did you buy them?"

"At a bush store," said Agatha, smiling. "They were not as cheap as they look, and my others had worn to rags. Besides, I hadn't much time, and it wasn't worth while to bother about my dress."

"You don't seem to bother about much," George remarked. "In fact, you've come back with a lordly calm that's as exasperating as it's unjustifiable."

Agatha gave him a thoughtful look. "Is Florence well?"

"Quite well. She's disturbed about you."

"Then it's probably business! I suppose trade is bad?"

George lost his self-control. He was glad to see her back, but remembered what he had suffered for her sake.

"My business doesn't occupy all my thoughts and you have made a blamed poor joke! Here am I and your friends, trying to grapple with an awkward situation and puzzling how we're to help you out, and you _laugh_. So far as I can see, there's nothing humorous--"

"Don't be cross," Agatha interrupted. "I don't need helping out. If business isn't very good, I can offer you a post."

George made an abrupt movement and looked hard at her. Farnam laughed softly, and his wife leaned forward.

"You see, I've found the lode. It's richer than I thought," Agatha resumed.

There was silence for a few moments, and then George said: "I want time to get hold of this. You found the ore the old man talked about! It's not another stupid joke?"

"Not at all. Father located the vein on his last journey and left a paper with directions. Mr. Thirlwell found it in his tobacco-box. The directions were not complete and we had some trouble--but we'll talk about this later. The claim is recorded and Mr. Thirlwell has gone back to begin the development. Mr. Scott, his employer, is coming to see you."

"Well," said George dully, "I'll own I've got a knock. I reckoned if there was a lode, it would never be found. Looks as if I didn't know as much as I thought. But that's not all. Since I was old enough to guess my mother's fears I did the old man wrong. He's made good. I doubted, but you knew him best and you believed."

"Agatha's tired," Mrs. Farnam broke in. "She needs a rest and I'm going to get her some food. You can ask her what you like when I bring her back."

"I suppose you want to satisfy your curiosity first," Farnam suggested.

"We're not going to talk about _mining_," Mrs. Farnam rejoined.

"However, I must do you justice; you took Agatha's side from the first.

After all, your judgment's good now and then."

She took Agatha away and when they had gone George remarked: "I can't grip the thing yet. It's hard to get rid of a fixed idea you've had from boyhood. Still I ought to have known that Agatha wouldn't undertake a job she couldn't put over."

It was getting dark when Mrs. Farnam and the girl came back, and George said, "Now I want to know all about your trip. Begin where you left the cars and go right on."

"That will take some time," Mrs. Farnam interposed. "Shall I light the lamp in the room?"

"I think not," said Agatha, and smiled. "My story goes best with the twilight in the open. We had no lamps and pretty furniture in the bush."

She was silent for a few moments, looking across the orchard. The fruit trees were blurred and dim and the pines were black, but the sky shone softly red and green above their ragged tops. Then she began to talk; disjointedly at first, but the scenes she recalled got clearer as she went on, and she forgot her audience. It was her business to make things plain; she had studied this part of her vocation and unconsciously used her power to seize and hold the other's interest, but she did not know that she was drawing a lifelike portrait of her guide.

Mrs. Farnam knew, and with a tactful question here and there led the girl forward.

It was, however, impossible to relate her journey and leave Thirlwell out. He took the leading part that belonged to him, and his character was firmly outlined by her memory of the things he had said and done.

With something besides artistic talent Agatha unconsciously developed the sketch, dwelling upon his cheerfulness, courage, and resource. She told the others how he had nerved her to resolute effort when they had difficulties to overcome, sympathized when she was tired, and held the confidence of his men. Moreover, she made it obvious that there had been no romantic philandering. He had given her an unselfish, brotherly protection.

The narrative lost something of its force after she came to the finding of the broken range. She saw she had been franker than she thought, and the change in Thirlwell could not be talked about. It was dark now, the red and green had faded above the trees, and she was grateful for the gloom. She was not afraid of George and Farnam, but did not want Mabel to study her. Only the latter noted that she paused awkwardly now and then and added a rather involved explanation. The men were engrossed by Thirlwell's efforts to find the ore. When she stopped they were quiet for a few moments.

Then George said: "You would never have struck the lode without that man." He turned to the others. "Some story of a prospecting trip! What do you think?"

"I think Agatha was very lucky," Mrs. Farnam said with meaning. "Perhaps luckier than she deserved."