The Promise Part 39

"Oh, Hubert, I want to go back!"

"What?"

"Yes, dear, just once more." Appleton saw the tears in her eyes. "I want to smell the fragrance of the pine woods--and sit on the thick pine-needles--and cook over an open fire! Bacon and trout and coffee--yes, and no _real cream_, either!" She smiled at him through her tears. "Canned milk, and maybe some venison steaks.

"I want to borrow your pocket-knife and dig out spruce gum and chew it, with the little bits of bark in it," she went on, "and I won't promise not to 'pry,' with it, either. I hope I do break the blade! Do you remember that day, and how mad you were?

"I want to see the men crowd into the grub-shack, and hear the sound of the axes and saws and the rattle of chains and the cras.h.i.+ng of big trees. I want to see the logs on the rollways; and, Hubert, you won't think I'm awful, will you, dear, but I want to--just once more in my life--I want to hear a big man _swear_!"

H. D. Appleton stared at his wife in blank amazement, and then, throwing back his head, roared with laughter.

"Well, you sure will, little girl, if you try to slip any canned milk into _my_ coffee!"

His wife regarded him gravely.

"I am not joking, Hubert. Oh, can't you see? Just once more I _must_ have a taste of the old, hard, happy days--can't I?"

"Why, Margaret, you don't really mean that you want to go into the woods--seriously?"

"Yes, I do mean just exactly that--seriously!"

Appleton tugged at his mustache and puckered his forehead.

"We might make up a party," he mused. "I'll speak to Ross in the morning."

The little gray-haired woman stepped lightly around the table, and, seating herself on his lap, captured his big fingers in her own.

"How many times must I tell you not to pull your mustache, dear? Now, listen; I have a plan. There will be Mary Sheridan and Ross and Ethel Manton--you know she promised us a visit this fall, and I expect her any day now. A trip into the woods will do her a world of good, poor girl. She has had lots of responsibility thrust upon her since brother Fred died, with young Charlie to look out for, and the care of that big house.

"Mrs. Potter, you know she lives next door to Ethel, writes me that she does not believe the girl is happy--that this St. Ledger, or whatever his name is, that she is reported engaged to, is not the kind of a man for Ethel at all--and, that she hasn't seemed herself for a year--some unhappy love affair--the man was a scamp, or something--so this trip will be just what she needs. Charlie will be with her, of course, and we can invite that young Mr. Holbrooke; you have met him, that nice young man--the VanNesses' nephew.

"We will go away up into the big woods where you men can hunt to your heart's delight; and we women will stay around the camp and do the cooking and smell the woods and chew spruce gum. Oh, Hubert, won't it be just _grand_?"

Appleton caught something of his wife's enthusiasm.

"It sure will, little girl! But what's _he_ for?"

"What is who for?"

"This Holbrooke person. Where does he come in on this?"

"Why, for Ethel, of course! Goose! Don't you see that if Ethel is not happy--if she is not really in love with this St. Ledger--and she spends two or three weeks in the same camp with a nice young man like Mr. Holbrooke--well, there's no place like the woods for romance, dear; you see, I know. And he has money, too," she added.

Appleton suddenly lifted his wife to her feet and began pacing up and down the room.

"Money!" he exclaimed. "He never earned a cent in his life."

"But he is the VanNess heir!"

"Old VanNess made his money selling corsets and ribbons."

"Why, dear, what difference does that make? I am sure the VanNesses are among----"

"I don't care who they're among, or what they're among!" interrupted her husband. "We don't want any niece of ours marrying ribbons. Hold on a minute, let me think. By gad, I've got a scheme!"

He continued to pace up and down the length of the room, puffing shortly upon his cigar and emitting emphatic grunts of satisfaction.

"I've got it!" he exclaimed. "If you're bound to marry Ethel off we will give her the chance to marry a _man_. Go ahead and make up the party, but leave ribbons out of it. We will let Ethel rest up for a few days and then we will start--straight for the new camp. There is a _man_ there."

"But," objected his wife, "you know nothing about him. You don't know even his name."

"What difference does that make? I know a good man when I see one. I know enough about him to know that he is good enough for Ethel or any other woman. And, if he hasn't got a name now, by gad, he is making one--up there in the big country!"

"But he has no money."

"No money! How much did we have when we were married? Why, little girl, you just got through saying that the happiest days we ever spent were up there in the woods when money was so scarce that we knew the date on every dollar we owned--and every scratch and nick on them--and the dimes and pennies too."

The little woman smiled. "That is true, Hubert, but somehow----"

"Somehow nothing! If we did it, these two can do it. They've got a better chance than we had. I'm not going to live forever. I need a partner. I'm getting old enough to begin to take things easier--to step aside and let a younger man shoulder the burden."

He threw his arm lovingly about his wife's shoulders, and drew her close. "We never had a son, sweetheart," he said gravely, "but if we had I'd want him to be just like that boy. He is making good."

Margaret Appleton looked up into her husband's eyes.

"You haven't made many mistakes, dear," she whispered. "I hope he will make good--for your sake and--maybe for Ethel's."

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

TOLD ON THE TRAIL

It was a merry party that clambered into the big tote-wagon in the little town of Creighton one morning in early November. Upon request of Appleton and Sheridan, two of the road's heaviest lumber s.h.i.+ppers, a private car had been coupled to the rear of the Imperial Limited at Winnipeg.

Later the big train hesitated at Hilarity long enough to permit a half-breed guide in full hunting regalia to step proudly aboard, to the envy of the dead little town's a.s.sembled inhabitants. And later still the Limited stopped at Creighton and shunted the private car onto a spur.

Appleton promptly impressed one of his own tote-wagons which had been sent to town for supplies; and before noon the four-horse team was swung into the tote-road carrying the hunting party into the woods.

Tents, blankets, and robes had been ranged into more or less comfortable seats for the accommodation of the party, while young Charlie Manton insisted upon climbing onto the high driver's seat, where he wedged himself uncomfortably between the teamster and Blood River Jack, the guide.

From the time the latter had joined the party at Hilarity the boy had stuck close to his side, asking innumerable questions and listening with bated breath to the half-breed's highly colored narratives in which wolves, bears, and Indians played the important parts.

In the evening, when they camped beside the tote-road, and he was permitted to help with the tents and the fire-wood, the youngster fairly bristled with importance, and after supper when the whole party drew about the great camp-fire the boy seated himself close by the side of the guide.

"You never told me your name," he ventured.