WINTHROP'S LETTER
After breakfast the next morning Alison sat sewing in a thoughtful mood.
She now genuinely regretted having given Nevis the information about
Lucy Calvert, and in addition to this Thorne's reserve on the previous
evening somewhat troubled her. He had not thought fit to tell her what
he meant to do, but she was convinced that he would do something, and
the most obvious course would be to warn Lucy against any attempt which
Nevis might make to trace her lover. It was possible that the man might
cunningly entrap her into some admission that would be of assistance to
him. On the other hand, Alison realized that Thorne's task was not so
simple as it appeared on the face of it. Though quick-witted, he was,
she suspected, by no means subtle, and she supposed that he would find
it difficult to put Lucy on her guard without betraying the part that
she had played in the matter. She was quite sure that nothing would
induce him to let this become apparent.
It was, however, necessary that Lucy should be warned as soon as
possible, and Alison decided that as she was the one who had made the
trouble it was she who should set it right. This would be only an act of
justice, besides which it would give her an opportunity for forming a
clearer opinion of Lucy than she had as yet been able to do. As the
result of it all, she obtained Mrs. Farquhar's permission to visit the
Calvert homestead, which was not very far away, during the afternoon.
In the meanwhile Nevis had been considering how he could best make use
of the information she had supplied him, and his mind was still occupied
with the question when he drove across the prairie that afternoon. It
was a fiercely hot day, and the wide grassland, which had turned dusty
white again, was flooded with dazzling light. The usual invigorating
breeze was still, and Nevis's horse had fallen to a walk, pursued by a
cloud of flies, when he made out the mail-carrier plodding slowly down
the rut-marked trail in front of him. Nevis was quite aware that a
prairie mail-carrier is usually more or less acquainted with the affairs
of every farmer in the district he visits, and he pulled up when he
overtook him.
"What's the matter with your horse?" he asked. "Isn't it stipulated that
you should keep one?"
"That's so," assented the man. "The trouble is that you can't get a
horse that won't go lame on a round like this. I had to leave him at
Stretton's an hour ago."
"Going far?" Nevis asked.
"Round by Mrs. Calvert's to the ravine."
Nevis decided that he was fortunate, but he carefully concealed any sign
of satisfaction.
"I can give you a lift as far as the first place, if you like to get
in."
The man was glad to do so, and Nevis presently handed him a cigar.
"Do you get letters for all the farms every round?"
"No," replied his companion; "I'm quite glad I don't; guess I'd use up
two horses if I did. It saves me a league or two when I can cut out some
of my visits."
"Yes," agreed Nevis, who had a purpose in pursuing the topic. "One can
understand that. It's the people back from the trail who will give you
most trouble. It must be a morning's ride to Boyton's or Walthew's; and
Mrs. Calvert's is almost as much off your round. Do you have to go there
often?"
The question was asked casually, with no show of interest, and the
mail-carrier evidently suspected nothing.
"Most every trip the last few weeks," he replied.
Nevis felt that the scent was getting hot. He made a sign of sympathy.
"That's rough on you; anyway, if you have to pack out any weight," he
said. "Some of these people get a good many implement catalogues and
circulars from Winnipeg, no doubt?"
"In Mrs. Calvert's case it's one blamed letter takes me most a league
off the trail."
Nevis asked no more questions; they did not seem necessary. He had
discovered that somebody wrote to Mrs. Calvert or her daughter once a
week, and he had no trouble in deciding who it must be. He also
remembered that letters bore postmarks, and he had a strong desire to
ascertain where Winthrop was then located.
"If you like, I'll hand that letter in," he offered. "I'm calling on
Mrs. Calvert anyway, and you can go straight to the next place if you
give it to me."
The man hesitated a moment, and then shook his head.
"I'm sorry it can't be done," he said. "It's safer to stick to the
regulations, and then if you have any trouble nobody can turn round on
you."
Nevis was too wise to urge the point, though he meant, if it could by
any means be managed, to get the letter into his hands.
"Well," he assented, "I guess you're right in that."
They drove on to the Calvert homestead, which was rudely built of birch
logs sawed in a neighboring bluff, and Nevis sprang down first when an
elderly woman with a careworn face appeared in the doorway. The
mail-carrier, who followed him more slowly, stood still a moment
fumbling in his bag until the woman spoke to him.
"Got something to-day, Steve?"
"I've got it all right," was the answer. "Letter for Lucy. The trouble
is to find the thing."
Nevis, standing nearer the house, waited until the man took out an
envelope. Then he stretched out his hand, as though willing to save him
the trouble of walking up to the door, but the mail-carrier either did
not notice the action or was too punctilious in the execution of his
duty to deliver the letter to him.
"Here it is, Mrs. Calvert," he said. "Thank you, Mr. Nevis."
He strode away and Nevis turned to the woman with a smile.
"May I come in?" he asked. "I'll leave the horse here; he'll stand
quietly."
Mrs. Calvert made no objections, though he noticed that she laid the
envelope on a table across the room when he sat down.
"It's two or three years since I was in this house," he began.
"Three," corrected the woman.
"I suppose it is," acknowledged Nevis, who seemed to reflect. "I got on
with your husband pleasantly, and I'm sorry in several ways that our
connection has been broken off. I don't think the thing was any fault of
mine."
Mrs. Calvert did not answer at once. Winthrop was not a great favorite
of hers, and although she had made no attempt to turn Lucy against him
she had on the other hand not altogether sympathized with the latter's
views concerning her present visitor. She remembered that her husband
had liked the man, and there was no doubt that the goods he supplied
were of excellent quality. Nevis was certainly not scrupulous, and he
had treated some of those who dealt with him with harshness, but he at
least never descended to any petty trickery over the sale of a machine.
For one thing, he was too clever; he recognized that it was not worth
his while.
"Well," he added, "I don't like for old friends to leave me, and I
decided to look you up again. Will you want a new binder or a back-set
plow this fall?"
"We'll want a binder," answered his hostess, who was a woman of somewhat
yielding nature. "Still, I guess we'll get it from Grantly."
"His things are good enough, though he stands out for the top price,"
responded Nevis, who was too wise to disparage openly a rival's goods.
"Just now, however, I'm rather loaded up, and the orders aren't coming
along, so I'm making a special cut. I'll knock an extra four dollars off
the list figure for the binder, and wait for the money until you have
hauled in your wheat."
Nobody would have suspected that he did not care in the least whether he
secured the order or not, or that he had long ago decided that any
business he was likely to do with the woman was not worth his attention.
She, however, appeared to consider the offer.
"It's cheap, and that's a fact," she said. "It's most a pity I can't buy
the thing from you."
"I suppose that trouble over Winthrop has turned Miss Calvert against
me?"
"You have got it," was the answer. "Lucy's mad with you. She runs this
place, and she deals with Grantly."
This was the lead Nevis had been waiting for, and he seized upon it.
"If she's about, I'd like a talk with her. I might reason her out of her
prejudice against me."
"It wouldn't be easy. She drove over to the bluff, but she should be
back at any time now."
Nevis had no particular desire to see Miss Calvert, but he had made up
his mind to wait for an opportunity to examine the postmark on the
letter, if it could be managed. Taking a catalogue out of his pocket, he
proceeded to talk about the machines and implements described in it,
until at length there was a rattle of wheels outside and, somewhat to
his astonishment, Alison walked in. He rose when she greeted Mrs.
Calvert, and noticed that there was something which suggested hostility
in her eyes when for a moment she let them rest on him.
"Farquhar's hired man brought me; he's going to Bagshaw's place," she
announced. "I came over to see Lucy, but she seems to be out."
Mrs. Calvert asked her to wait a little, and when she was seated Nevis
sat down again. Alison, however, noticed that he had now moved to
another chair which was nearer the table than the one he had previously
occupied, and she wondered whether he could have had any particular
motive for changing his place. Then, leaning one elbow on the table, she
looked around the room.
There was only one window in it, for even with double casements it is
difficult enough to keep a small prairie homestead warm in winter, and
the place was somewhat shadowy. The log walls were uncovered, and she
could see the chinking of moss and clay which had been driven into the
crevices in them; and there was, as usual, nothing on the very roughly
boarded floor. One bright ray of sunshine, however, streamed in, and
fell dazzlingly across the table, upon which an apparently unopened
letter lay. The white envelope which caught the light seized her
attention, and she remembered that the mail-carrier visited the district
that day. As Lucy Calvert was not in, it was reasonable to suppose that
the letter was addressed to her, which would explain why her mother had
not opened it, and this supposition carried her a little farther. The
most likely person to write to the girl was her lover, and Alison was
almost sure that it was a man who had inscribed the address on the
envelope. By and by she saw Nevis glance at the square of paper in what
did not appear to be an altogether casual fashion, and the half-formed
idea in her mind grew into definite shape. There was a reason why he
should be interested in the letter, and she decided to sit him out. She
opened a conversation with Mrs. Calvert, and some time had slipped away
when a distant rattle of wheels rose out of the prairie. Nevis, rising,
addressed his hostess.
"I guess that's Miss Calvert, and as there's a point or two about our
binder which I believe I forgot to mention, I'd like to explain the
thing before she turns up," he said. "I want to get on again as soon as
possible after I've had a word with her. No doubt Miss Leigh will excuse
us for a minute."
He moved forward toward the table with what appeared to be a photograph
of some harvesting machinery in his hand, and as he did so Alison, who
remembered that they had been laughing and speaking rather loudly during
the last three or four minutes, fancied she heard a footstep outside the
open window. She was, however, not quite sure of this, and she watched
the man with every sense strung up as he approached her hostess. It
struck her that his object was to get near enough to see the writing or
the postmark on the envelope, which would probably be impossible after
Lucy arrived.
Leaning forward a little, she rested one arm farther on the table, which
was covered with a light cloth, and drew the latter toward her with a
slight movement of her elbow until a wider strip of it overhung the
edge. She could not warn her hostess in the hearing of the man, when she
had only suspicion to act on, but she was determined that he should not
discover Winthrop's whereabouts if she could help it. Nevis's eyes, as
she noticed, were fixed on the envelope, but he was evidently still too
far off to read the postmark, and she waited another moment, watching
him with mingled disgust and anger at the means he used.
In the meanwhile it was clear that Mrs. Calvert had no suspicion of what
was going forward, for there was nothing to show that Alison's heart was
beating a good deal faster than it generally did, or that the man was
conscious of a vindictive satisfaction. His approach had been ostensibly
careless, and there was only a faintly suggestive hardness in his eyes.
The girl sat very still, and if her face was a little more intent than
usual her hostess did not notice it.
Alison fancied that she heard a sound outside the window again, but she
paid no heed to it, and as Nevis was about to lay his hand on the table
and lean over it she moved her elbow sharply. The next moment the cloth
slid down into a heap on the floor, and the letter disappeared.
Nevis closed one hand viciously, but he opened it again immediately as
he turned to Alison. The man was quick, and held himself well in hand,
and she felt a certain satisfaction in outwitting him, for it was clear
that he had not suspected her of having any motive for jerking the cloth
off.
"Am I accountable for the accident?" he asked.
"No," replied Alison; "it was my fault."
The danger, however, was not quite over. Alison quietly felt with one
little, lightly shod foot beneath the cloth, part of which had caught
and rested on her dress. Her shoe touched something that seemed harder
than the soft fabric, and she contrived to draw it toward her.
"You knocked a letter off the table," said Nevis. "It must have fallen
somewhere near. Permit me."
He stooped to pick up the cloth, and Alison saw that Mrs. Calvert was at
last uneasy. It was obvious that she did not wish Nevis to lay his hands
on the envelope. He raised the cloth, and after a glance beneath it
moved a pace or two and shook it vigorously, but nothing fell out, and
Alison quietly pushed back her chair.
"It's here beneath my skirt."
She picked it up and handed it to Mrs. Calvert, who laid it on a shelf
across the room. After that there was a moment's silence, during which
the two women looked at each other curiously, while Nevis, whose face
was expressionless, looked at them both. Then the awkward stillness was
broken by the entrance of Thorne. Ignoring Nevis completely, he turned
to Mrs. Calvert with a smile.
"I don't know whether I need an excuse for this visit, but it occurred
to me that I could drive Miss Leigh home," he explained. "I was hauling
in logs for Gillow when Farquhar's hired man came along and told me he'd
brought Miss Leigh over but wasn't sure when he could come back for her.
Lucy will be here in a minute."
He leaned on a chair, talking about the wheat crop, until the rattle of
wheels, which had been growing louder, stopped, when he moved toward the
door, saying that he would help Lucy with the team. It was some time
before he reappeared with her, and then the girl turned imperiously to
Nevis.
"You here!" she exclaimed. "What do you want?"
"I was trying to sell your mother a binder," Nevis answered blandly.
Lucy, standing very straight, looked at him with a snap in her eyes.
"Then I guess you're wasting time. While there are implements to be had
anywhere between here and Winnipeg we'll buy none from you."
Nevis favored her with a single swift glance, and then took up his hat.
"In that case I may as well get on again. I dare say your mother and
Miss Leigh will excuse me."
He did not offer to shake hands with either of them, which may have been
due to the fact that Mrs. Calvert's face was now hard and suspicious,
and Alison carefully looked away from him. There was, also, a gleam of
ironical amusement, which probably had some effect, in Thorne's eyes.
Soon after he disappeared, Mrs. Calvert asked Thorne to come out and
look at a mower which she said the hired man had had some trouble with,
and when they left the room Lucy leaned back in her chair with her eyes
fixed on Alison in a significant manner. They were of a clear blue, and
Alison admitted that, with the somewhat unusual color in her cheeks and
the light on her mass of gleaming hair, the girl was aggressively
pretty.
"I'm glad they've gone--I guess I have to thank you for what you did,"
she said. "It was right smart, and I'm not sure my mother caught on to
the thing."
"How did you know?" Alison asked in rather disturbed astonishment.
Lucy laughed.
"Mavy saw you through the window. The mail-carrier told him Nevis was
here, and it was quite easy to figure what he was after. That's why Mavy
hitched his team behind the willows and crept up quiet to see what was
going on, so he could spoil his game, but he left it to you when he saw
that you were on to it. Said he felt quite sure you could fix the man."
Alison remembered the footstep at the window, but she was curious about
another aspect of the matter.
"Why did he tell you?" she asked.
Lucy's manner changed, and there was a hint of hardness in her
expression.
"Well," she answered, "perhaps he wanted me to know what you had done,
and, anyway, he had to put me on my guard. Still, though Mavy's quick,
they're none of them very smart after all, and there was a point that
didn't seem to strike him. He wasn't clear as to why Nevis would try to
pick up Jake's trail through me."
The last words were flung sharply at the listener, and Alison made a
gesture of appeal.
"Of course," she returned, "he wouldn't tell you that."
"No," declared Lucy; "nothing would have got it out of him. That's the
kind of man he is." She paused a moment. "What made you send Nevis after
me?"
"It was done without thinking. I couldn't foresee that it might make
trouble. I was sorry afterward; I am sorry now."
Her companion looked at her with disconcerting steadiness.
"We'll let it go at that. There's just this to say--you haven't any
reason to be afraid of me. I don't know a straighter man than Mavy
Thorne--but I don't want him! Jake's quite enough for me, and there's
trouble in front of him, with Nevis on his trail."
It cost Alison an effort to retain a befitting composure. This
plain-speaking girl had obviously taken a good deal for granted, but
Alison was uneasily conscious that she had certainly arrived at the
truth. It was a relief to her when Mrs. Calvert and Thorne presently
entered the room together.