Partners of the Out-Trail Part 14

"A pretty good plan," Martin agreed. "There'll be a demand for Northern copper before long. Well, I see you have a blanket. You'll find a bed in the tent."

"I picked a spot to camp a piece back," Jim said rather awkwardly, as he got up.

Martin laughed. "Since you reckoned Cartner and I were on your track, you felt you'd sooner not stop with me? Well, I don't think that ought to count. If we could have bought you off or scared you off, we might have done so, but since you are resolved to put the contract through, we'll be satisfied with seeing you don't get another. If you stop, you'll get a better breakfast than you can cook."

Jim's hesitation vanished and he went into the tent.

Next morning he got breakfast with Martin, and when he was going the latter remarked: "I guess you understand you needn't bother about our getting after you. Go ahead and finish the job."

"Thanks," said Jim, smiling. "Unless we go broke, we mean to finish."

"Very well," said Martin, "if you have to choose between quitting and selling your copper claim, you had better let the telegraph contract go." He paused and gave Jim a level glance. "Looks like interested advice, but I guess it's sound."

Jim strapped on his pack and started down the valley. He reached the telegraph camp three or four days afterwards, and in the evening told Jake and Carrie about his interview.

"Perhaps it's strange, but I really don't think we're up against Cartner and Martin," he concluded.

"We're up against somebody who hasn't many scruples," said Jake.

"That is so," Jim agreed. "I suggested that Davies might be playing a lone hand. Martin admitted that it was possible, but didn't look satisfied. In fact, I imagined he was thinking hard. Of course, the obvious line was to doubt his honesty, but somehow I didn't."

"The obvious line's not always best," Carrie interposed. "My notion is, it's a foolish habit to take it for granted your antagonist is a cheat. But what is he like, Jim?"

"Big and rather quiet, although he had a twinkle. Weighs all he says, and you feel that if he's satisfied he doesn't mind if you are or not.

We know he was up North for some time; he looks like it, if you get me."

Jake nodded, for the men who push far into the frozen wilds conform to a type. Struggles with cold and hunger leave their mark, endurance breeds stubbornness, and fronting perils gives a quiet courage that makes for candor. The man who has conquered fear is not tempted to be mean.

"There are bad men, in some of the big camps, but no smooth rogues," he said.

"Martin is certainly not a smooth rogue," Jim declared. "I thought it curious he told me to hold on to the copper and let the contract go, if we couldn't stick to both. He admitted it looked as if he was playing for his side when he gave me the advice."

"Well," said Jake, thoughtfully, "if he meant to gain his object that way, it was a fool plan, but we know Martin's clever. To jump at a shallow suspicion is a blamed lazy habit that often puts you wrong. If he didn't mean well, I can't see what he did mean."

"I can't see," Jim agreed.

"Better let it go," Carrie interposed. "I like that man. If you have drawn him right, I think he could be trusted. However, you look as if you had been among the devil's club. What are you going to do with your clothes?"

"If you insist, I meant to hide them," Jim owned with a laugh.

"So I thought," said Carrie. "Bring them to the tent instead. If you don't, I'll come for them in the morning."

Jim promised to bring the clothes and lighted his pipe, feeling somewhat moved. He knew now how much he and Jake owed Carrie, and the thought she gave their comfort. If things went smoothly, it was because Carrie made them go; but this was not all. She was not satisfied with controlling the camp; Jim was beginning to see that now and then she controlled their talk and helped their decisions. She was a girl and had, for the most part, lived at a shabby store, but he admitted that her judgment was often sound. Carrie had qualities.

Then he started, for she looked at him with a smile.

"What are you thinking about, Jim?" she asked.

"I was wondering how we would have got on if we hadn't brought you," he replied.

Carrie laughed. "I know. Yet you wanted to leave me!"

"If I did, I was a fool."

"No," said Carrie, thoughtfully, "you are not a fool, but sometimes you're rather dull. Now you're half asleep and had better go to bed."

Jim knocked out his pipe and went.

A few days afterwards he started for the settlement with two of his men. They were good workmen and Jake was unwilling to let them go, but they had been with Jim in the North and he needed helpers whom he could trust, for he was going to make a bold experiment. He needed food, powder, and tools, and it was hard to keep the camp supplied.

Pack-horses could not carry much over the mountain-trail and the freighters' charges were high. Jim imagined he could bring up the goods cheaper by canoe, although the plan had drawbacks.

He reached the settlement, and after waiting a few days sat one evening on the hotel veranda. Burned matches and cigar-ends lay about the dirty boards; the windows of the mean s.h.i.+p-lap house were guarded by fine wire net. The door had been removed, and a frame, filled in with gauze and held by a spring, slammed noisily when one went in or out.

For all that, the hotel was full of dust and flies, and mosquitoes hummed about the hot rooms at night. The snow had melted below the timber line and a long trail of smoke floated across the somber forest.

A fire was working through the trees and a smell of burning came down the valley.

Three or four men in ragged overalls lounged about the veranda, and the landlord leaned against a post. He wore a white s.h.i.+rt with gold studs, and his clothes were good.

"Now you have got your truck, I reckon you'll pull out," he remarked.

"We start up river at daybreak."

"Then you're surely foolish. If you can't make it, there's trouble coming to you next time."

Jim understood the hint. The pack-horse freighters had enjoyed a monopoly of transport to the mining camps. The river was off the regular line, and its navigation was difficult except when the water reached a certain level, but if Jim's experiment proved that supplies could be taken by canoes transport charges would come down.

"There are some awkward portages, but I think I can get through," he said.

"I wasn't figuring on the portages," the landlord rejoined, meaningly.

"Somas Charlie's a tough proposition to run up against." He indicated a man coming along the road. "Somas has his tillic.u.ms, and around this settlement what he says goes."

In the Chinook jargon, _tillic.u.m_ means something like a familiar spirit, and Jim thought he saw what the other implied. He had had trouble to get articles he needed and had met with annoying delays; and he studied the advancing freighter with some curiosity. Somas was big and powerful and walked with the pack-horse driver's loose stride. He had a dark face, cunning black eyes, and very black hair. It looked as if Indian blood ran in his veins. He came up the veranda steps and gave Jim an ironical glance.

"Got your canoes loaded up?" he asked.

"Not yet; the truck is ready," said Jim, who had thought it prudent to put his goods in a store.

"It's a sure thing you're not going to take your canoes through. Say, I don't want to see you lose the grub and tools. Drop the fool plan and I'll take off a cent a pound."

"If you had offered that before, we might have made a deal. You're too late."

"Thought you were bluffing; I guess you're crazy now. You can't make it, anyway."

"I'm going to try."

The freighter shrugged. "Trying's going to cost you something; you'll feel pretty mean when you meet the bill. Fools like you make me tired." He beckoned the landlord. "Get on a move; I want a drink."

He went into the hotel and when the door slammed Jim was thoughtful.