THE ISLAND OF PINES
When Carnally crawled out, wet and breathless, into the open air with
the last of the men, he turned to speak to Andrew.
"Where's the boss?" he demanded quickly of Grennan.
Just then the roar of a fresh rushing of waters was borne up to them,
and Carnally was filled with anxiety as he leaned over the edge of the
pit.
"Allinson!" he shouted.
No answer came, and before the scared miners could fully realize what
had happened, Carnally was sliding down the rope. In the feeble light
at the bottom he saw Andrew's arms reaching above his head grasping
desperately on to the ladder. He seemed unable to pull himself up, but
held on with a vise-grip.
"All right, Allinson!" Carnally called across reassuringly.
Letting go of the rope, a few strokes in the water brought him to the
ladder.
"My knee!" explained Allinson, his face gray with pain. "Struck a
sharp ledge at the bottom!"
With Carnally's assistance, he managed to climb to the top of the
ladder, where a dozen arms were extended to pull him to safety. He had
a bad gash on his knee, his fingers on one hand were bruised and
bleeding, and there was a large welt on his head where the cross-beam
had struck him; but there seemed to be nothing serious.
He held out his hand to Carnally, and they gripped in silence. Words
were unnecessary.
"The cross-pieces of the ladder could not have been properly notched
in," Andrew said after a while. "I think it was supplied by Mappin?"
"Yes," answered Carnally; "and it's a rough job!"
"I must endeavor to see that Mappin does his work better. But what's
to be done about the flooded level?"
"Try to pump it out; it's fortunate that with a wood-burning engine
fuel costs you nothing. I expect Watson will start all the boys at the
new heading as soon as he gets back."
They discussed the mine until Yan Li called them to supper, and for
the next two weeks they worked very hard. Then Andrew went down to the
Landing on business, and one day he sat lazily in a rowing skiff on
the Lake of Shadows. A blaze of sunshine fell upon the shimmering
water, which farther on was streaked with deep-blue lines, but close
at hand it lay dim and still, reflecting the somber pines. The skiff
was drifting past the shore of a rocky island, on which a few maples,
turning crimson, made patches of glowing color among the dusky
needles, when Andrew saw a girl sitting on the shore. She was near
when he noticed her, and it struck him that she was remarkably pretty.
The thin white dress, cut in the current American fashion, left her
finely molded arms uncovered to the elbow and revealed her firm white
throat. Her hands were shapely; and, for her hat lay beside her, he
noticed the warm coppery tones in her hair. She had gray eyes and her
face pleased him, though while observing the regularity of her
features, he could not clearly analyze its charm. Then feeling that he
had gazed at her as long as was admissible, he dipped his oars, but,
somewhat to his astonishment, she called to him.
"Did you see a canoe as you came?" she asked.
"No," Andrew answered. "Have you lost yours?"
"It floated away; I didn't notice until it was too late. It went
toward the point."
She indicated the end of the island, and Andrew nodded.
"It would drift to leeward. I'll go and look for it."
As he swung the skiff round it struck him that she had kept curiously
still. Her pose was somewhat unusual, for she sat with her feet drawn
up beneath her skirt, and skirts, as he remembered, were cut decidedly
short. He rowed away and presently saw the canoe some distance off. On
running alongside, he noticed a pair of light stockings in the bottom,
and laughed as the reason for the girl's attitude became apparent.
Pulling back with the canoe astern, he loosed the light craft and
drove it toward the beach with a vigorous push.
"Thank you," said the girl, and he tactfully rowed away.
He had not gone far when he heard a hail and saw her standing on the
point, waving her hand. For a moment or two he hesitated. As the canoe
had grounded within her reach, he could not see what she wanted; and,
in view of the discovery he had made, he had imagined that she would
have been glad to get rid of him. Still, she had called him and he
pulled back.
"Can I be of any further assistance?" he asked, noticing with some
relief that she now had her shoes on.
"Yes," she said frankly. "I am marooned here; there's no paddle in the
canoe."
"No paddle? But how could it have fallen out?"
"I don't know; and it doesn't seem an important point. Perhaps the
canoe rocked, and it overbalanced."
"I could tow you to the Landing," Andrew suggested.
His manner was formally correct and she felt half amused. This young
man was obviously not addicted to indiscriminate gallantry.
"I don't want to go to the Landing, and the canoe would tow easier
with no one on board. Your skiff should carry two."
He ran the craft in, made fast the canoe, and then held out his hand.
When she was seated, he pushed off.
"Where shall I take you?" he asked gravely.
"To the large island yonder--the Island of Pines," she said,
indicating it; and he knew that this was Geraldine Frobisher, whom
Mappin had discussed. Andrew admitted that his description of her was
warranted.
"You have been unlucky," he remarked.
"I've been careless and have had to pay for it. We got breakfast early
and I've missed my lunch."
"It's nearly three o'clock," said Andrew, pulling faster. "But how is
it no one came to look for you?"
"My aunt goes to sleep in the afternoon; my father had some business
at the Landing--if he had been at home it would have taken him some
time to find me. He would have searched the nearer islands first,
systematically and in rotation." She smiled. "That's the kind of man
he is. I suppose you have guessed who I am?"
"Miss Frobisher?"
"And you're Mr. Allinson. It wasn't hard to identify you. Perhaps you
know that your doings are a source of interest to the people at the
Landing."
"I can't see why that should be so."
"For one thing, they seem to think you are up against what they call
'a tough proposition'."
Andrew's face grew thoughtful. Since the collapse of the heading, he
had spent a fortnight in determined physical toil, as his scarred
hands and broken nails testified. It had been a time of stress and
anxiety, and during it he had realized that the mine would be a costly
one to work. The ore must carry a high percentage of metal if it were
to pay for extraction.
"I'm afraid that's true," he said.
"Then you won't get much leisure for hunting and fishing?"
Andrew laughed.
"After all, those were not my objects in coming out, though you're not
the only person who seems to have concluded that they were."
"I have no opinion on the matter," Geraldine declared. "But at the
Landing you are supposed to be more of a sportsman than a miner--isn't
it flattering to feel that people are talking about you? Then you are
really working at the mine?"
"So far, I've saved the Company about two dollars and a-half a day."
"But isn't your voice in controlling things worth more than that?"
"No," Andrew replied; "I'm afraid it isn't."
"Then you don't know much about mining?"
"I believe," Andrew answered dryly, "I know a little more than I did."
Geraldine was pleased with him. The man was humorously modest, but he
looked capable and resolute.
"Well," she said, "it can't be easy work; though one understands that
getting the ore out is not always the greatest difficulty."
"It's hard enough when the roof comes down, and the props crush up,
and the water breaks in. Still, I believe you're right."
"I know something about these matters," she said, and then surprised
him by a sudden turn of the subject. "There's one man you can trust. I
mean Jake Carnally."
"Do you know him?"
"He built our boat pier and cleared the bush to make our lawn. We
often made him talk to us; and I know my father, who's a good judge,
thought a good deal of him."
"Jake," said Andrew cautiously, "rather puzzles me: I can get so
little out of him, though I like the man. As you seem to know the
people I have to deal with, is there anybody else whose
trustworthiness you would vouch for?"
Geraldine's face hardened.
"No, I don't know of anybody else; but you will soon be able to form
your own opinion."
This struck Andrew as significant, because she must have heard of his
connection with Mappin, who visited the house. Just then he caught
sight of a boat that swung around the end of an island and headed
toward them with bows buried in foam.
"A gasoline launch," he said. "She's traveling very fast."
"It's ours," explained Geraldine. "My father must have got back from
the Landing and has come to look for me."
The launch was soon abreast of them and stopped near the skiff. A man
of middle age, in light clothes, held the tiller and looked at
Geraldine inquiringly.
"I suppose you have been dreadfully worried," she said with a smile at
him. "I was cast away on a desolate island when the canoe went adrift,
and should have been there still, only that Mr. Allinson came to my
rescue." She turned to Andrew. "My father, Henry T. Frobisher."
Andrew noticed that Frobisher glanced at him keenly when he heard his
name, but he started the engine and ran the launch alongside.
"Come on board and see our island," he said. "I'll take you back to
the Landing afterward."
Andrew followed Miss Frobisher into the craft and made the skiff and
canoe fast astern, and they set off and presently reached a short pier
which ran out into still, clear water. A lawn stretched down to the
shore, bordered with flowers, and at the end of it a wooden house
stood against a background of somber pines. A veranda ran across the
front, the rows of slender columns braced by graceful arches; above
were green-shuttered windows, steep roofs, and gables. Moldings,
scrolls and finials had been freely and tastefully used to adorn the
building, though Andrew understood that Frobisher used it only
occasionally as a summer resort.
Andrew was taken in and presented to Frobisher's sister, Mrs. Denton,
a lady with a languid expression and formal manners. Then tea was
served in artistic china, and after some general conversation
Frobisher led Andrew to a small room on the upper story, which looked
out upon the lake, and gave him an excellent cigar. Noticing him
glance at the maps unrolled on a table, he smiled.
"I find that I can't get away from business," he explained. "It
follows me down here; and in a new country like this there's generally
some interesting project cropping up. I go off into the bush hunting,
and see something that looks like an opportunity; the idea sticks to
me and begins to develop."
"So far, I haven't found the prospects here very encouraging; but I
suppose mining's slow," Andrew responded. "What do you deal in?"
"Land, lumber, waterfalls that will drive turbines--anything in the
shape of natural resources. But how are you getting on at Rain Bluff?"
Andrew reflected that as the Company's operations would be freely
discussed at the Landing, there was no reason why he should be
reticent. Besides, he felt inclined to trust his host. The man had a
keen, thoughtful face, but its seriousness was relieved by his genial
smile.
"I'm afraid we're not getting on very fast," he said, and related the
mishaps they had met with.
"You seem to find the work harder than you expected."
"I must admit it," said Andrew. "If it were merely a question of
propping up the roof, getting rid of the water, and cutting out the
ore, I'd feel less diffident. It's the business complications that I
have the most trouble in understanding."
Frobisher gave him a keen glance.
"That side's generally involved. Rain Bluff, however, has a good big
capital, I understand."
"Which means big liabilities. We're naturally expecting to pay
dividends on it."
"It's an expectation that's not invariably realized," Frobisher
remarked dryly. "You feel that your shareholders ought to be
satisfied?"
"Of course. That's why I'm here."
"Our acquaintance is short, but if you don't feel that I'm too much of
a stranger, I might perhaps be able to throw some light on any points
that you're puzzled about. I've had a pretty extensive experience in
these matters."
He was mildly gratified by his guest's ready confidence, but Andrew
had been endowed with a quick and accurate judgment of character. He
talked without reserve as Frobisher drew him out; and the American
listened with unusual interest. The affairs of the Rain Bluff Company
were no concern of his, but the working of Allinson's mind fixed his
attention. Allinson was obviously a novice in such matters, but, for
an untrained man, he showed a grasp of the salient points and a
boldness in attacking difficulties which Frobisher thought remarkable.
Lighting a fresh cigar when Andrew had finished, he smoked a while in
silence. With a few words he might explain the Company's situation in
a manner that would fill his guest with astonishment and perhaps
dismay, but on the whole it did not seem advisable that they should be
spoken. It would be better that Allinson should find out for himself
how matters stood. Frobisher felt strongly curious about what he would
do then.
Andrew presently looked up, as if he expected some comment.
"There are one or two suggestions I might make," said Frobisher.
They were not of much moment, though they promised to save Andrew some
time and trouble, and after discussing them he rose to go. When they
reached the hall Geraldine met them.
"If you are going to the Landing, I'll come with you," she said.
"There are a few things I want from the stores."
"Then if Mr. Allinson will excuse me, I'll let you take him. I have
some matters to consider before the mail to-morrow; and waiting while
you buy millinery is a tedious business."
Frobisher shook hands with Andrew cordially.
"Come back to the Island of Pines whenever you feel inclined," he
said, and Andrew and Geraldine walked down to the pier.
She started the engine and stood aft, holding the helm, while Andrew
sat on a locker, looking about while the launch swept noisily away.
The days were rapidly getting shorter and the sunlight had faded off
the lake. The breeze had fallen and the water lay gleaming, smooth as
oil, with the shadow of the rocks and trees floating on it. Here and
there a clump of pines to the westward stood out, black and rugged,
against a glow of pink and green; the air was cold and filled with a
resinous fragrance. But Geraldine occupied most of Andrew's attention.
She stood, gracefully poised, her light dress fluttering in the
draught made by the launch's speed, and a clear warm color glowing in
her face. Fine spray leaped about the bows, around which there curled
a wisp of foam, and the froth streamed back far across the lake.
Andrew was inclined to be sorry the launch was so fast: it was not far
to the Landing, and he could have spent an hour or two pleasantly on
board. Miss Frobisher was not the first attractive young woman he had
met, and she had neither said nor done anything in particular to
excite his admiration. Indeed, when he came to think of it, she had
said little to him; but somehow she impressed him as no other girl had
done. When presently she made some remark which demanded an answer,
they chatted gaily until she ran the launch alongside the wharf. There
Andrew left her and went to his hotel.
After making her purchases, Geraldine returned to the island, where
she found her father sitting on the pier with a notebook in his hand.
"You landed your passenger safely, I see. What did you think of him?"
"He didn't give me much opportunity for forming an opinion, except
that he's rather serious," Geraldine answered with a smile. "Besides,
I don't suppose my opinion would be worth as much as yours."
"That's a very modest admission; I thought you imagined yourself a
good judge of young men. Anyway, I'm interested in this one; perhaps
because he has upset the ideas I had about him."
"How?"
"For one thing, he's straight--straight as a plumb-line, which isn't
altogether what I expected. Then, for a man engaged in business, he's
a type that's new to me."
"Are those remarks connected?" Geraldine asked with a laugh. "You're
in business and nobody could be straighter than you are."
Frobisher looked at her with appreciation.
"I'm afraid there have been occasions when I had to sail dangerously
near the wind; but that's outside the question. I'm sorry for this
young fellow--there's trouble ahead of him."
"You mean financial trouble? Of course, I've heard people talking
about the mine."
"Not altogether; anyway, if I'm right about him, I don't think he'll
find that the worst." Frobisher broke into a thoughtful smile. "After
all, I have met business men who didn't consider their money the most
important thing they could lose. But I'm inclined to think the people
who sent Allinson over here have made a mistake."
Geraldine was unwilling to betray too great an interest in the man;
and, indeed, her curiosity about him did not go very far.
"Oh, well," she said, "it really doesn't concern us."
She turned toward the house, and Frobisher looked out across the
water. From what he knew about Rain Bluff Mine he had concluded that
Allinson must be either a clever and somewhat unscrupulous exploiter
of such ventures, or a guileless ignoramus who could be made a tool
of. Now, having met him, he was convinced that the man was neither of
these. However, he had other things to think about; and opening the
notebook he busied himself with a scheme for utilizing some
water-power.