"The major, at least, likes a game, and after pulling him back into this
wicked world from the edge of a gully one naturally feel that he owes
him a little."
"You didn't pull him. It was Walter. Hadn't you better try again?"
Sewell appeared a trifle embarrassed, for he saw that Leger was becoming
interested.
"It is, to some extent, my business to understand the habits of the
ruling classes," he said reflectively. "You see, it's almost necessary.
Unless I know a little about them, how can I persuade anybody how far
they are beneath us, as I'm expected to do?"
Hetty laughed. "Well," she said, "you haven't tried to do anything of
that kind for a long while now. Anyway, it seems to me that you knew a
good deal about them before you ever saw Major Coulthurst. Of course,
it's not my business, but if I were the major I'd make you tell me
exactly what you were going there for."
Sewell apparently did not relish this, though he laughed. It happens
occasionally that those most concerned in what is going on are the last
to notice it, and it had not occurred to Coulthurst or Ingleby that
Sewell spent his evenings at the Gold Commissioner's dwelling
frequently. He had, however, not often met Ingleby there, and it was
significant that neither of them ever mentioned Grace Coulthurst to the
other. In any case, Sewell did not answer, and while they sat silent
there was a tramp of feet outside and the corporal came in. He was a
taciturn and somewhat unsociable man, but he smiled as he looked at
Hetty and sat down where the rude chimney Tomlinson had built was
between him and the one small window.
"It's a bitter night, and there's 'most four foot of snow on the range.
I figured I'd look in to tell you it will be two or three days yet
before you get the flour the folks at the settlements are sending up,"
he said. "A trooper has just come in with the mail, and he left the
freighter and his beasts held up by the snow."
He stopped a moment, and looked at Leger somewhat curiously. "Somebody
has just gone away?"
"No," said Leger. "We have had nobody here. We are expecting Ingleby,
but he hasn't turned up yet."
"Quite sure he's not outside there?"
"It's scarcely likely. It's a little too cold for anybody to stay
outside when he needn't. Ingleby would certainly come in."
"Well," said the corporal, "I guess I didn't see anybody, after all. It
was quite dark, anyway, in among the trees. Winter's shutting down on us
'most a month before it should have done. It's kind of fortunate we sent
the horses out when we did. I don't know what they wanted to bring them
for. Nobody has any use for horses in this country."
It was evident that the worthy corporal was bent on getting away from
what he felt to be an awkward topic, and Hetty laughed outright at his
quite unnecessary delicacy.
"No," she said, "you know you saw somebody, and fancied it was one of
the boys waiting to see me."
The corporal appeared embarrassed, but was wise enough not to involve
himself further. "Well," he said, "when I was coming along the trail I
saw a man slip in behind a cedar. That kind of struck me as not the
usual thing, and I went round the other way to meet him. It was quite a
big tree, and when I got around he wasn't there. You keep the dust you
get for the bread in the shanty, Leger?"
"Yes," said Leger. "Most of the boys who come here know where it is. I
really don't think there is any reason why they shouldn't, either."
"No," said the corporal reflectively, "I guess there isn't. I'll say
that for them. Still, I did see somebody."
He contrived to glance round at the faces of the rest, unnoticed by any
of them except Hetty, and was satisfied that they knew no more than he
did. The corporal had been a long while a policeman, and had quick
perceptions. He decided to look into the matter later.
"Well," he said, "I guess it's not worth worrying over."
He drew a little closer to the fire, and nobody said anything for a
minute or two, though Hetty glanced towards the little window. The room
was dim except when a blaze sprang up, and turning suddenly she stirred
the fire, and then, for no very apparent reason, set herself to listen.
The bush outside was very still, and she could hear the frost-dried snow
fall softly from a branch. Then there was a sharp snapping of resinous
wood in the fire, and it was not until that died away she heard a sound
again. It was very faint, and suggested a soft crunching down of powdery
snow. Nobody else seemed to hear it, not even the corporal, who was
apparently examining a rent in his tunic just then, and she had almost
persuaded herself that she had fancied it when she glanced towards the
window again. A flickering blaze was roaring up the chimney now.
Then a little shiver ran through her, and closing her hands tight she
stared at the glass in horror. A face was pressed against it, a drawn,
grey face that seemed awry with pain. There was, however, something that
reminded her of somebody in it, and she was about to cry out when she
felt a hand laid restrainingly on her arm. Glancing over her shoulder,
she saw that her brother was also gazing at the window, and then she
knew suddenly to whom the face belonged. It had gone when she looked
round again, and it was evident that neither Sewell nor the corporal had
seen it. Unfortunately, it appeared very unlikely that the man outside
could have seen the latter, and she knew that something must be done, or
in another moment or two Prospector Tomlinson would walk into the arms
of the policeman. Leger appeared incapable of suggesting anything and
was gazing at her with apprehension in his eyes.
It was a singularly unpleasant moment. Hetty was aware that she and her
brother owed Tomlinson a good deal, and, in any case, it would be
particularly distasteful to see him arrested. She was also by no means
certain that her brother and Sewell would permit it, and the corporal
was a heavily-built man. It very seldom happens that a Northwest
policeman lets a prisoner go; and Hetty was quite aware that the result
of a struggle might be disastrous to everybody. She realized this in a
flash, and then there was a sound of shuffling feet outside in the snow.
They were approaching the doorway, and she knew it would be flung open
in another moment or two. Then the inspiration came suddenly.
"There's somebody outside," she said, and laughed as she noticed the
bewildered consternation in her brother's eyes. "If it's Ingleby I don't
think I'll let him in."
Her voice was almost as steady as usual, and apparently Leger alone
noticed the suggestion of strain in it, while next moment she crossed
the room and threw the door open. It was narrow, however, and she stood
carefully in the middle of it.
"You're not coming in, Walter, until you cut some wood," she said. "You
never touched the axe the last time you came."
Hetty's nerve almost failed her during the next few moments, and she
felt the throbbing of her heart while the man the others could not see
blinked at her stupidly. She dare venture no plainer warning, and he was
apparently dazed with cold and weariness.
"I'm not going to stand here. It's too cold," she said. "If you're too
lazy to do what I tell you, I'll ask the corporal."
Then she banged the door to, and went back to her seat with a little
laugh that sounded slightly hollow to her brother, at least.
"If there's one thing Walter doesn't like it's chopping wood--and that's
why I wouldn't let him off," she said. "He hasn't troubled to come round
and see me for a week. I'm vexed with him."
Now, the corporal was, of course, aware that throughout most of Western
Canada visitors to a homestead not infrequently lighten their hostess's
labour by washing the dishes or carrying wood. In the case of the
miners, who were pleased to spend an hour at the bakery, chopping wood
for the oven was the most obvious thing, though those specially favoured
were now and then permitted to weigh out flour or knead the bread. There
was thus nothing astonishing in what Hetty had apparently said to
Ingleby, nor did Sewell, who provoked the corporal into an attempt to
prove that the troopers' carbine was a more efficient weapon than the
miners' Marlin rifle, appear to notice anything unusual, and only Leger
saw that Hetty's colour was fainter than it had been and that she was
quivering a little.
In the meanwhile there was a tramp of feet outside, which grew less
distinct, until the ringing chunk of the axe replaced it, and Leger
wondered how he could make Sewell understand that it was desirable to
cut the discussion short. He could think of no means of doing it and
glanced at Hetty anxiously, for how long the corporal meant to stay was
becoming a somewhat momentous question. A man accustomed to the axe can
split a good deal of wood in ten minutes, even when he works by
moonlight; and it was evident that the one outside could not continue
his chopping indefinitely without the corporal's wondering what was
keeping him.
Ten minutes passed, and the regular thud of the axe rang through the
forest outside, while the corporal, who was a persistent man, still
discussed extractors and magazine springs. Leger felt the tension
becoming intolerable. Then Hetty contrived to catch Sewell's attention,
and, looking at him steadily, set her lips tight. The corporal had, as
it happened, turned from the girl; but she saw a gleam of comprehension
in Sewell's eyes.
"Well," he said reflectively, "I suppose you are right. I like the
easier pull-off of the American rifles. One is less apt to shake the
sights off the mark, but no doubt with men accustomed to the handling
of rifled weapons, as the police troopers are, the little extra pull
required is no great matter."
The corporal was evidently gratified. "I've shown quite a few men they
were wrong on that point, and now I guess I must be getting on. You'll
excuse me, Miss Leger?"
He put on his fur-coat and opened the door, but Hetty's heart throbbed
again when he stopped a moment. As it happened, the fire was flashing
brilliantly, and the corporal appeared to be looking down at the
footprints by the threshold.
"I've seen Ingleby twice since the snow came, and he was wearing
gum-boots," he said. "The man who was outside here had played-out
leather ones on."
"Walter has an old pair he wore until lately," said Leger. "There's a
good deal of sharp grit in the Tomlinson mine, and he'd probably come
along in the boots he went down in."
This appeared reasonable, and the corporal made a little gesture as
though to show that he concurred in it, and then, stepping forward,
disappeared into the night. Sewell rose and shut the door, and then
glanced at Hetty, who stood quivering a little in the middle of the
room.
"I fancy one of you has something to tell me," he said.
Hetty gasped. "Oh," she said, "I thought he meant to stay until morning!
It was getting awful, Tom."