A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED.
Cabot had been impressed by the rugged scenery of the Nova Scotia shore
line, but it had been tame as compared with the stern grandeur of that
unfolded when the "Sea Bee" rounded Cape Ray and was headed up the west
coast of Newfoundland. He had caught glimpses of lofty promontories
and precipitous cliffs as the schooner skirted the southern end of the
island; but most of the time it had kept too far from shore for him to
appreciate the marvellous details. Now, however, as they beat up
against a head wind, they occasionally ran in so close as to be wet by
drifting spray from the roaring breakers that ceaselessly dashed
against the mighty wall, rising, grim and sheer, hundreds of feet above
them. Everywhere the rock was stained a deep red, indicating the
presence of iron, and everywhere it had been rent or shattered into a
thousand fantastic forms. At short intervals the massive cliffs were
wrenched apart to make room for narrow fiords, of unknown depth, that
penetrated for miles into the land, where they formed intricate mazes
of placid waterways. Beside them there were nestled tiny fishing
villages of whitewashed houses, though quite as often these were
perched on apparently inaccessible crags, overlooking sheltered coves
of the outer coast.
On the tossing waters fronting them, fleets of fishing boats, with
sails tanned a ruddy brown, like those of the "Sea Bee," or blackened
by coal tar, darted with the grace and fearlessness of gulls, or rested
as easily on the heaving surface, while the fishermen, clad in yellow
oilskins, pursued their arduous toil.
To our young American the doings of these hardy seafarers proved so
interesting that he never tired of watching them nor of asking
questions concerning their perilous occupation. And he had plenty of
time in which to acquire information, for so adverse were the winds
that only by the utmost exertion did White Baldwin succeed in getting
his schooner to the St. George's landing in time for Cabot to run to
the railway station just as the train from Port aux Basques was coming
in.
The two lads exchanged farewells with sincere regrets, after White had
extended a most cordial invitation to the other to finish the cruise
with him, and visit his home at Pretty Harbour. Much as Cabot wished
to accept this invitation, he had declined it for the present, on the
plea that he ought first to go to St. Johns. At the same time he had
promised to try and make the proposed visit before leaving the island,
to which White had replied:
"Don't delay too long, then, or you may not find us at home, for there
is no knowing what may happen when the warships get there."
Even David Gidge shook hands with the departing guest, and said it was
a pity he couldn't stay with them a while longer, seeing that he might
be made into a very fair sort of a sailor with proper training.
With one regretful backward glance, Cabot left the little schooner on
which he had come to feel so much at home, and sprinted towards the
station, where was gathered half the population of the village--men,
women, children, and dogs. The train was already at the platform as he
made his way through this crowd, wondering if he had time to purchase a
ticket, and he glanced at it curiously. It was well filled, and heads
were thrust from most of the car windows on that side. Through one
window Cabot saw a quartette of men too busily engaged over a game of
cards to take note of their surroundings. As our lad's gaze fell on
these, he suddenly stood still and stared. Then he turned, pushed out
from the crowd, and made his way back towards the landing as rapidly as
he had come from it a few minutes before.
The "Sea Bee" was under way, but had not got beyond hail, and was put
back when her crew discovered who was signalling them so vigorously.
"What is the matter?" inquired her young skipper, as Cabot again
clambered aboard. "Did you miss the train after all?"
"No," replied Cabot. "I could have caught it; but made up my mind at
the last moment that I might just as well go with you to Pretty Harbour
now as to try and visit it later."
"Good!" cried White, heartily. "I am awfully glad you did. We were
feeling blue enough without you, weren't we, Dave?"
"Blue warn't no name for it," replied Mr. Gidge. "It were worse than a
drop in the price of fish; an' now I feel as if they'd riz a dollar a
kental."
"Thank you both," laughed Cabot. "I hadn't any idea how much I should
hate to leave the old 'Bee' until I tried to do it. You said there was
another station that I could reach from your place, didn't you?" he
added, turning to White.
"Yes. There is one at Bay of Islands that can be reached by a drive of
a few hours from Pretty Harbour; and I'll carry you over there any time
you like," replied the latter.
"That settles it, then; and I'll let St. Johns wait a few days longer."
So the little schooner was again headed seaward, and set forth at a
nimble pace for her run around Cape St. George and up the coast past
Port au Port to the exquisitely beautiful Bay of Islands, on which
Pretty Harbour is located; and, as she bore him away, Cabot hoped he
had done the right thing.
When commissioned to undertake this journey that was proving so full of
incident, our young engineer had been only too glad of an excuse to
break his engagement with Thorpe Walling; for, as has been said, the
latter was not a person whom he particularly liked. Walling, on the
other hand, had boasted that the most popular fellow in the Institute
had chosen above all things to take a trip around the world in his
company, and was greatly put out by the receipt of Cabot's telegram
announcing his change of plan. The more Thorpe reflected upon this
grievance the more angry did he become, until he finally swore enmity
against Cabot Grant, and to get even with him if ever he had the chance.
He was provoked that his chosen companion should have dismissed him so
curtly, without any intimation of what he proposed to do, and this he
determined to discover. So he went to New York and made inquiries at
the offices of the company acting as Cabot's guardian; but could only
learn that the young man had left the city after two private interviews
with President Hepburn. At the club where Cabot had lunched on the day
of his departure, Thorpe's appearance created surprise.
"Thought you had started off with Grant on a trip around the world?"
said one member in greeting him.
"No," replied Walling; "we are not going."
"But he sailed two days ago. At least, he said that was what he was
about to do when he bade me good-bye on his way to the steamer."
"What steamer, and where was she bound?" asked Thorpe.
"Don't know. He only said he was about to sail."
"I'll not be beaten that way," thought Walling, angrily; and, having
plenty of money to expend as best suited him, he straightway engaged
the services of a private detective. This man was instructed to
ascertain for what port a certain Cabot Grant had sailed from New York
two days earlier, and that very evening the coveted information was in
his possession.
"Sailed on the 'Lavinia' for St. Johns, Newfoundland, has he?" muttered
Thorpe. "Then I, too, will visit St. Johns, and discover what he is
doing. I might as well go there as anywhere else; and perhaps Grant
will find out that it would have been wiser to confide in an old friend
than to treat him as shabbily as he has me."
Having reached this decision, Walling took a train from New York, and,
travelling by way of Boston, Portland, and Bangor, crossed the St.
Croix River from Maine into New Brunswick at Vanceboro. From there he
went, via St. John, N.B., and Truro, Nova Scotia, to Port Mulgrave,
where he passed over the Strait of Canso to Cape Breton. Across that
island his route lay through the Bras d'Or country to North Sidney, at
which point he took steamer for Port aux Basques and the Newfoundland
railway that should finally land him in St. Johns. On this journey he
became acquainted with several Americans, with whom he played whist,
which is what he was doing when his train pulled up at the St. George's
Bay platform.
At sight of his classmate, Cabot became instantly desirious of avoiding
him and the embarrassing questions he would be certain to ask.
Although our young engineer could not imagine why Thorpe Walling had
come to Newfoundland, he instinctively felt that the visit had
something to do with his own trip to the island. He knew that Thorpe
delighted to pry into the secrets of others; and also that he was of a
vindictive nature, quick to take offence, and unscrupulous in his
enmities. Therefore, as his instructions permitted him to visit
whatever part of Newfoundland he chose, he decided to avoid St. Johns
for the present rather than risk the results of a companionship that
now seemed so undesirable.
Somewhat earlier on that same day one of Thorpe's travelling
companions, named Gregg, spoke to him of Newfoundland's mineral wealth,
and referred particularly to the Bell Island iron mines.
"Yes," replied Walling, who had never before heard of Bell Island,
"they must be immensely valuable."
"Oh, I don't know," said the other, carelessly. "Several American
companies are trying to get control of them; but perhaps they are not
what they are cracked up to be after all."
"Isn't a New York man by the name of Hepburn one of the interested
parties?" asked Thorpe, at a venture.
"Yes, he is," responded Mr. Gregg, turning on him sharply. "Why, do
you know him?"
"I can't say that I know him; but I know a good deal about him, and
have every reason to believe that he has just sent an acquaintance of
mine, a young mining engineer, up here to examine that very property."
"Is he an expert?"
"Oh, yes. He and I were classmates at a technical institute."
"Then you also are a mining engineer?"
"I am."
"Have you come to Newfoundland to investigate mineral lands?"
"Not exactly; though I may do something in that line if I find a good
opening. At present I am merely on a pleasure trip."
"I see, and I am glad to have made your acquaintance, as I am somewhat
interested in mineral lands myself. When we reach St. Johns I hope you
will introduce me to your friend, and it may happen that I can return
the favour by putting you on to a good thing."
"Certainly, I will introduce you if we run across him," replied Thorpe.
"At the same time I hope you won't mention having any knowledge of his
business, as he is trying to keep it quiet."
"Like most of us who have 'deals' on hand," remarked the other, with a
meaning smile. "But it is hard to hide them from clever chaps like
yourself."
At which compliment, Thorpe, who had only been making some shrewd
guesses, looked wise, but said nothing.
It happened that these two were playing whist when the train reached
St. George's Bay, and Mr. Gregg remarked to his partner:
"There's a chap staring at this crowd as if he knew some of us."
Thorpe glanced from the window, and started from his seat with an
exclamation. At the same moment Cabot Grant turned away and hurried
from the station.
"Do you know him?" asked Mr. Gregg.
"He is the very person I was speaking to you about a while ago,"
replied Thorpe.