Supper had just been finished, and Ingleby was lying, pipe in hand,
beside the creek waiting until Leger should bring another load of
wash-dirt from the mine. The sunlight was still pleasantly warm, the air
filled with the balsamic odours of the pines, and there was a little
smile of unalloyed content in Ingleby's face as he drank them in. Though
he had toiled since morning, those few minutes would be the only rest he
would enjoy until long after darkness closed in, and once more he
indulged in visions of a roseate future as he made the most of them.
They had washed up each bucket-load as they brought it to the surface,
and the result had made the richness of the mine increasingly plain.
Ingleby was getting accustomed to the fact that he was now, in all
probability, at least, comparatively rich, and already his brain was
occupied with half-formed projects. They did not include a further
course of prospecting, for he had discovered that placer mines are
addicted to playing out with disconcerting rapidity, and that in case of
the deep lodes it is not as a rule the man who records the claim, but
the capitalist or company-jobber, who takes the profit.
He would go back to civilization and embark on an industrial career, for
there was, he fancied not altogether incorrectly, wealth awaiting the
resolute and enterprising man with sufficient money who was willing to
play his part in laying the foundations of the future prosperity of
that rich land, and he had a young man's faith in his abilities which
was in his case more or less warranted. Then when he had won a footing
he would boldly ask Major Coulthurst for his daughter's hand. Social
distinctions count for little in Western Canada, and, though the waiting
would be hard, there was consolation in the thought that every bold
venture would bring him so much nearer her. Ingleby was proud, and
content to possess his soul in patience until he had shown that he could
hold his own with his fellows and hew his own way to fortune.
It was, at least, a wholesome resolution, and there was behind it a
vague participation in the belief held by primitive peoples and
proclaimed in courts in the days of chivalry, that man before he mated
should be required to make his manhood plain by deeds accomplished and
pain endured. It was not fitting, he felt, that the woman should give
everything or stoop too far. He must have something to offer, as well as
the ability to lift himself to her level; and through all there ran the
desire of the democratic Englishman for an opportunity to prove himself
at least the equal of those accounted his betters.
Before Leger reached him with the bucket there was a rustling in the
tall fern behind him, and Tomlinson came out upon the bank of the creek.
He glanced at the little flag above the mine and the pile of debris at
the water's edge, and then took up the pan Ingleby had laid down and
dipped it in the stream. A whirl of it in his practised hand was enough
for him.
"Yes," he said quietly, "I guess you've struck it rich!"
Ingleby laughed and handed him a little bag.
"I almost think we have. Feel that!" he said.
Tomlinson poised the bag in one hand, and then sat down with a little
gesture of assent, for he was not by any means a demonstrative man.
"Well," he said, "it will make it easier for Hetty, and I'm glad of it.
Slaving away at that bakery isn't the kind of thing for her. It's going
to the opera at Vancouver with the best of them she ought to be doing. I
guess that would suit most young women quite as well as baking bread;
but it's a little rough on me that Hetty Leger would sooner stay right
where she is."
"What do you mean?" asked Ingleby.
"Tom knows," said Tomlinson, ruefully. "I haven't put it quite straight
to Hetty. Just now, anyway, it wouldn't be any good. She's quite happy
holding on to that blame bakery, though what she wants to do it for is
more than I can figure. It can't be the money, because I've a claim back
yonder that's turning out a pile of it every day, and she could have all
she'd any use for."
Ingleby found himself in a position of some perplexity. He could not
well admit that there was any reason why an honest man of excellent
character, such as Tomlinson appeared to be, should not marry Hetty, and
yet the mere probability of this was distasteful to him. It was, in
fact, unpleasant to contemplate the possibility of Hetty's marrying
anybody. He remembered that she had by no means displayed the
satisfaction one would have expected when they found the gold, and from
this it appeared that Tomlinson's suggestion that she was quite content
to continue the bakery was warranted. It was, however, difficult to
discover any reason for this, and he was still considering the question
when Leger came up. Tomlinson turned to him.
"You kept the thing kind of quiet. Told nobody yet?" he said.
"Only one of the policemen. We were too busy to spend a good deal of the
day coming over to let the boys know, though Ingleby was thinking of
going across to-night. You have a good claim already, and you can't hold
more than one, you know."
Tomlinson nodded. "That's quite right," he said. "It's kind of
unfortunate Sewell isn't here. You don't know where he is?"
"No," said Ingleby. "He has been away for two days looking for a deer. I
suppose anybody pegging off a claim next to ours would strike gold?"
"It's quite likely. He'd get the colour, sure, but when the creek that
washed the metal out was running it dropped the heavy stuff only here
and there. Anyway, the chances would be good enough, I figure. What
policeman was it you told?"
"Probyn."
Tomlinson's face hardened suddenly. "Oh, yes!" he said. "He's quite
often hanging around here."
It occurred to Ingleby now that the trooper in question had certainly
found occasion to visit their mine or the bakery somewhat frequently,
but just then the lad in question appeared and came up to them. He
disregarded Tomlinson, who showed no sign of recognizing him, and looked
at Ingleby.
"Major Coulthurst would be glad if you and Leger could find it
convenient to see him now," he said.
"What does he want?" asked Leger sharply.
"I don't know," said the trooper. "I'm telling you what he said."
There was a curious silence for a moment or two, and Ingleby felt a
little thrill of apprehension run through him. Then Tomlinson rose with
sudden abruptness.
"I guess you've got to go. I'm coming along," he said.
"The Recorder did not mention you. If he'd been anxious for your company
he probably would have done so," said the trooper drily.
Tomlinson looked at him with a little glint in his eyes, and then laid
his hand on Ingleby's shoulder.
"I've played this game quite a long while, and I guess I know the
pointers 'most as well as anybody," he said.
Ingleby said nothing, but his face became suddenly intent, and, though
the pace they made was fast, he grew feverishly impatient as they swung
along the trail to the Gold Commissioner's office. Coulthurst was
awaiting them when they reached it and glanced at Tomlinson inquiringly.
"You have some business with me?" he said.
Tomlinson sat down uninvited, with a smile. "Well," he said, "the fact
is, I don't quite know yet. When you've trouble with the Crown folks in
the cities you can take a lawyer along. At this game I'm 'most as good
as one."
Coulthurst made his indifference apparent by a gesture. "I don't suppose
it matters. Will you sit down, Mr. Leger? There's a seat yonder,
Ingleby."
Ingleby sat down, and, with a sinking heart, watched him open a book.
There was a difference in Coulthurst's manner. He was precise and formal
and did not appear quite comfortable. One could almost have fancied that
what he was about to do was distasteful to him.
"You left your claim on or about the twentieth of June, Ingleby," he
said. "You did not return until--"
"Hold on!" said Tomlinson. "You've got to prove that. I guess there's no
reason why you should admit anything, Walter."
Just then there were footsteps outside, and Ingleby looked up sharply as
Esmond came in. He appeared a trifle disconcerted when he saw what was
going on, and turned towards the door again.
"I didn't know you were busy, sir," he said.
"Sit down," and the major's tone was very dry. "I should prefer you to
hear this affair with me. You remember on what day Mr. Ingleby left his
claim?"
Tomlinson nodded. "That's the straight thing, Major," he said. "Keep him
right there. I guess the insect's at the bottom of everything."
"We can dispense with your advice," said Coulthurst, chillingly, though
there was a suggestion of a twinkle in his eyes.
In the meanwhile Ingleby looked at Esmond, and his face was a trifle
pale, though a faint tinge of darker hue showed in the young officer's
cheek. He was apparently not altogether free from embarrassment. It was
Ingleby who spoke.
"I have no doubt Captain Esmond remembers exactly when I left the claim,
sir, and there is nothing to be gained by disputing over a day or two,"
he said. "I was away a good deal longer than the seventy-two hours the
law permits."
"Which invalidates your title!" said the major. "You failed to notify me
or claim the privilege which under certain conditions I might have
accorded you."
Ingleby, who had been anxious hitherto, but by no means dismayed,
gasped.
"If I understand the regulations, it would be quite sufficient to leave
another miner to carry on the work on my account. Besides, under the
mineral-claim enactments which I think apply, the title would, in any
case, revert to my partner."
Esmond, who appeared to have recovered his tranquillity, smiled a
little, and there was a curious silence in the room as Coulthurst took
down a book. Ingleby could feel his heart throbbing as he listened to
the sharp rustle of the leaves while the major looked for the clause he
wanted.
"You hold a free miner's certificate, Leger?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," said Leger, and then started visibly, while Ingleby, who saw
his face, closed one hand a trifle as he leaned forward in his chair.
"You can produce it?" said the major.
Leger dejectedly passed the paper across to him, but Ingleby, who found
the suspense becoming unendurable, turned to him.
"Tom," he said hoarsely, "you didn't neglect to renew it?"
Leger did not seem to remember that anybody else was there. He smiled
wryly and made a little gesture.
"I'm afraid I did," he said. "I hadn't the money when the time came
round. I didn't want you to know that--and I couldn't ask Hetty. We
scarcely expected to find anything, you see. Afterwards, I suppose it
slipped my memory."
Ingleby said nothing, though his face was very grim, and the little thud
of Coulthurst's hand upon the book broke sharply through the silence.
"Should a free miner neglect to renew his certificate upon expiry all
mineral-claims held by him under it revert to the Crown," he said.
Then he stood up, straight and burly, though his face was a trifle
flushed.
"I'm sorry, Ingleby, but I'm afraid you have thrown away your claim."
Ingleby sat very still for part of a minute with one hand closed
tightly. Then he also rose.
"I can't blame you, sir," he said hoarsely. "I don't think there is
anything to be gained by protesting."
"Well," said Tomlinson, "you're 'way more patient than I would be. Why
did they let you go on working until you had found the gold?"
Ingleby turned and looked at the police officer with a very unpleasant
glint in his eyes. "That," he said, "is a little kindness for which, I
fancy, I am indebted to Captain Esmond."
He would have gone out, but Tomlinson laid a hand upon his arm and
turned to the Recorder.
"Now," he said, "I'm going to do some talking. That claim's Ingleby's,
Major, until you've declared it open, and wiped out his record."
"Well," said Coulthurst drily, "I am sorry to find myself compelled to
do it. The claim lately held by Walter Ingleby and Thomas Leger, having
reverted to the Crown, is open for relocation. A notice will be issued
to that effect. I may, however, point out--to you--that no free miner
can hold more than one claim in the same vicinity."
"That's all right," said Tomlinson. "The one I've got is quite enough
for me. You have a certificate, Ingleby. Take out a new one, Leger."
Leger drew the little bag from his pocket, but Tomlinson waved it aside,
and threw another down before Coulthurst, glancing at Esmond as he did
so.
"That gold came out of the reverted mine, and they might claim it wasn't
yours. We'll make sure," he said. "There's a man worth keeping your eye
on who has a hand in this deal. More than the necessary amount there,
sir? Let him have his certificate. I'll look in for the rest any time
that suits you."
Coulthurst's eyes twinkled a little as comprehension dawned on him, and
he passed Leger the paper.
"I fancy any advice that prospector Tomlinson desires to give you would
be worth considering," he said.
Tomlinson wasted no further time, but drove Ingleby and Leger before him
out of the room.
"It's rustle now!" he said. "There's nothing to stop either of you
pegging a new claim down on the lead alongside the old one. It's even
chances you strike it quite as rich there. Get your stakes in!"
"Where are you going?" asked Leger.
Tomlinson laughed. "To put the boys on the lead. Still, it's quite
likely that a friend of mine will relocate your old claim a little ahead
of them. He'll be there 'most as soon as the major puts up his notice
that it's open. He may think it worth while to let me in somehow for
telling him."
He set off at a run, and as he disappeared Ingleby and Leger, leaving
the winding trail, went straight through the undergrowth towards the
canyon. Vigorous movement with a definite purpose was a relief to them,
and they were gasping and dripping with perspiration when at last they
stopped beside the sequestrated claim. Nobody else had reached it, and
the bush was very still, but it was in feverish haste they hewed and
drove in certain square-faced stakes. They were still on the lead, and
once more a little hope sprang up in them.
In the meanwhile Coulthurst sat at his table looking hard at Esmond.
"I hope," he said grimly, "that you are now satisfied."
Esmond met his gaze without embarrassment. "I'm not sure I quite catch
your meaning, sir."
"In that case," said Coulthurst, "it is a trifle difficult to understand
how you came to hold a commission in a service in which one understands
intelligence is necessary. I have carried out the law, but I don't mind
admitting that I do not appreciate being made use of in this fashion. It
is very evident you do not like Ingleby."
Esmond, who made no disclaimer, appeared to reflect for a moment or two.
"Well," he said, "you have, perhaps, some ground for feeling aggrieved,
sir; but I can't help thinking that I have done nothing that was
unnecessary."
"I am not blaming you for--doing your duty."
"I scarcely think you would be warranted in considering me very much at
fault for going a little beyond it. I admit that it would please me to
see Ingleby driven out of the valley. The fellow's presumption is almost
insufferable."
Coulthurst glanced at him sharply, and his face grew a trifle red.
"Ingleby is very young in comparison with myself, but you were once good
enough to allude to him as a friend of mine, and you certainly met him
at my house as my guest. If there was any particular meaning in your
speech, it would be better to come straight to the point. I don't like
hints."
"I can only offer you my excuses for momentary bad memory, sir. Absurd
as it may seem to you, I'm far from sure that Ingleby is likely to be
content with the status mentioned. A very little reflection should make
the warning clear. In the meanwhile I have a couple of troopers waiting
for me."
He went out, and Coulthurst sat still at his table gazing vacantly in
front of him with his lips unusually firmly set. Then he rose with a
little shake of his shoulders and a gesture of relief.
"The thing is quite out of the question. Grace has too much sense," he
said.