"Enough to be dangerous, but I don't know how he learned it and don't
mean to keep on buying him off. Now I want you to go home and tell my
people what we're doing; if you can give them the impression that I've,
so to speak, made good in Canada, so much the better. This is not
entirely for my sake, but because it might be a relief to them. You
see, they've had to suffer something on my account and felt my
disgrace, but, although I deserved it, they wouldn't give me up."
"Very well," said Foster, "I'll do as you wish."
He knocked out and re-filled his pipe, as an excuse for saying nothing
more, because he was somewhat moved. He guessed that Featherstone had
not found it easy to take him into his confidence, and felt that he had
atoned for his errors in the past. Still, there was a point he was
doubtful about. His comrade had a well-bred air, and Foster imagined
that his people were rich and fastidious.
"I'm not sure your relatives will enjoy my visit," he resumed after a
time. "My father and mother died when I was young, and I was sent to a
second-rate school and kept there by an uncle who wanted to get rid of
me. Then I'd a year or two in a merchant's office and cheap lodgings,
and when I'd had enough of both came out to Canada with about five
pounds. You know how I've lived here."
Featherstone gave him an amused glance. "You needn't let that trouble
you. It's curious, but the bush seems to bring out the best that's in
a man. I can't see why getting wet and half frozen, working fourteen
hours a day, and often going without your dinner, should have a
refining influence, but it has. Besides, I'm inclined to think you
have learned more in the Northwest than they could have taught you at
an English university. Anyhow, you'll find my people aren't hard to
please."
"When are you going to California?" Foster, who felt half embarrassed,
asked.
"Let's fix Thursday next, and I'll start with you."
"But I'm going east, and your way's by Vancouver."
"Just so," said Featherstone dryly. "For all that, I think I'll start
east, and then get on to a west-bound train at a station down the line.
The folks at the Crossing know I'm going home, and I don't want to put
Daly on my track." He smoked in silence for a few moments, and then
added: "I wonder whether Austin helped the fellow to get after me?"
Foster looked up with surprise, but admitted that his partner might be
right. Austin was a real-estate agent who now and then speculated in
lumber and mineral claims. He had some influence at the Crossing
where, however, he was more feared than liked, since he lent money and
bought up mortgages. On three or four occasions he had been a business
rival of Foster and Featherstone's, and the former thought he might not
have forgiven them for beating him.
"It's possible," he said thoughtfully. "But you don't imagine Daly
told him what he knows about you?"
"I should think it most unlikely," Featherstone rejoined. "Daly means
to keep all he can get for himself, but if he gave Austin a hint that
he could injure me, the fellow might be willing to help. He's pretty
often up against us; but we'll let that go. You're a friend of Carmen
Austin's, and as you'll meet her at the reunion, it might be better if
you didn't tell her I have changed my plans. Of course, I don't mean
to hint that she has anything to do with her father's schemes."
Foster laughed. He liked Carmen Austin and was mildly flattered by the
favor she showed him, but thought he knew her well enough not to attach
much importance to this. Carmen was clever and ambitious, and would,
no doubt, choose a husband who had wealth and influence. Though very
young, she was the acknowledged leader of society at the Crossing.
"You needn't be afraid of hurting my feelings," he said. "To some
extent I do enjoy Miss Austin's patronage, but I know my drawbacks and
don't cherish any foolish hopes. If I did, I believe she'd tactfully
nip them in the bud."
"On the whole, I'm pleased to hear it," Featherstone replied. "Now, if
you don't mind, there's something I want to read."