The Huntress Part 51

CHAPTER XVIII

THE "RESTERAW"

Gilbert Beattie, driving home by way of the French outfit, after having seen his sister-in-law embark, found that another party of settlers had arrived. Many of the natives, attracted by news of these events, had also come in, and the settlement presented a scene of activity such as it had never known.

It gave the trader much food for thought. Clearly the old order was pa.s.sing fast, and it behooved an enterprising merchant to adjust himself to the new. Beattie was no longer a young man, and he felt an honest anxiety for the future. Would he be able to maintain his supremacy?

When he reached his own store he found a handsome native girl waiting to see him. He had seen her before, but could not place her. He asked her name.

"Bela Charley," she answered.

"O-ho!" he said, looking at her with a fresh curiosity. "You are she, eh?" Whatever they might be saying about this girl, he commended the calm, self-respecting air with which she bore his scrutiny. "Do you want to trade?" he asked. "One of the clerks will wait on you."

She shook her head. "Want see you."

"What can I do for you?"

"Company got little house beside the road down there. n.o.body livin'

there."

"Well, what of it?"

"You let me live there?" she asked.

"You'd better go home to your people, my girl," he said grimly.

"I have left them," she returned coolly.

"What would you think of doing?" he asked curiously. "How could you make your living?"

"Plenty people here now," she said. "More comin'. I goin' keep stoppin'-house for meals."

"Alone?" he asked, frowning.

"Sure!" said Bela.

He shook his head. "It wouldn't do."

"Why?"

"You're too good-looking," he replied bluntly. "It wouldn't be respectable."

"I tak' care of myself," averred Bela. "Anybody say so."

"How about that story that's going the rounds now?"

"Moch lies, I guess."

"Very like; but it can't be done," he said firmly. "I can't have a scandal right in front of my wife's door."

"Good for trade," suggested Bela insinuatingly. "Mak' the new people come up here. Now they always hangin' round Stiffy and Mahooley's."

This argument was not without weight; nevertheless, Beattie continued to shake his head. "Can't do it unless you get a chaperon."

"Chaperon?" repeated Bela, puzzled.

"Get a respectable woman to come live with you, and I'll say all right."

Bela nodded and marched out of the store without wasting any further words.

In an hour she was back, bringing Mary, Bateese Otter's widow. Mary, according to the standards of the settlement, was a paragon of virtue. Gilbert Beattie grinned.

"Here is Mary Otter," said Bela calmly. "She poor. She goin' live with me. I guess she is respectable. She live in the mission before, and scrub the floors. Pere Lacombe tell her come live wit' me. Is that all right?"

Since Bela had secured the sanction of the Church upon her enterprise, Beattie felt that the responsibility was no longer his. He gladly gave her her way.

The astonis.h.i.+ng news spread up and down the road like lightning. Bela Charley was going to open a "resteraw." Here was a new and fascinating subject for gossip.

n.o.body knew that Bela was in the settlement. n.o.body had seen her come.

Exactly like her, said those who were familiar with her exploits in the past. What would happen when Bela and Sam met again? others asked.

While everybody had helped this story on its rounds, no man believed that Bela had really carried off Sam. Funny that this girl should turn up almost at the moment of the other girl's departure! n.o.body, however, suspected as yet that there was anything more than coincidence in this.

The main thing was Bela was known to be an A1 cook, and the grub at the French outfit was rotten. Mahooley himself confessed it.

Within two hours six men, including Big Jack and his pals, arrived for dinner. Bela was not at all discomposed. She had already laid in supplies from the company. Dinner would be ready for all who came, she said, six bits per man. Breakfast and supper, four bits.

To-day they would have to sit on the floor, but by to-morrow proper arrangements would be completed. No, there would be no accommodations for sleeping. Everybody must go home at ten o'clock. While they waited they could cut some good sods to mend the roof, if they wanted.

Some of the guests, thinking of the past, approached her somewhat diffidently; but if Bela harboured any resentment, she hid it well.

She was the same to all, a wary, calm, efficient hostess.

Naturally the men were delighted to be given an opportunity to start fresh. Three of them laboured at the roof with a will. Husky, who only had one good arm, cleaned fish for her. The dinner, when it came on, was no disappointment.

Sam, rattling back over the rough trail that afternoon, stamped in his empty wagon-box and whistled cheerfully. Things were going well with him. The long, hard-working days in the open air were good for both health and spirits. He liked his job, and he was making money. He had conceived a great affection for his lively little team, and, lacking other companions, confided his hopes and fears in them.

Not that he had yet succeeded in winning from under the load of derision that had almost crushed him; the men still greeted him with their tongues in their cheeks. But now that he had a man's job, it was easier to bear.

He believed, too, that he was making progress with them. The hated gibe "white slave" was less frequently heard. Sam, pa.s.sionately bent on making good in the community, weighed every shade of the men's manner toward him, like a lover his mistress's.

He met Big Jack and his pals driving back around the bay in Jack's wagon. They had staked out their land across the bay, but still spent most of their time in the settlement. Both drivers pulled up their horses.

The men hailed Sam with at least the appearance of good nature. As for Sam himself, he had made up his mind that since he was going to live among them, he would only make himself ridiculous by maintaining a sore and distant air. He was learning to give as good as he got.