A cold snap had suddenly fallen over the northern half of Vancouver
Island, and tall pines and unpaved streets were white with frozen snow.
A chilling wind swept round Jaques' store and rattled the loose windows;
tiny icicles formed a fringe about the eaves; but the neat little back
room, with its polished lamp and its glowing stove, seemed to Jimmy and
his comrades luxuriously bright and warm. Supper had been cleared away,
and the group sat about the table discussing what could now be done,
after the failure of the second attempt to recover the gold.
Jaques leaned his head on his hand, with his elbow resting on the table;
Mrs. Jaques sat opposite him, her eyes fixed intently on Bethune, who
was the spokesman for the party. Jimmy, with a gloomy expression, gazed
toward the one window, where a frozen pine bough occasionally scraped
against the pane with a rasping sound that was heard above the rattle of
the sashes. Moran, with a downcast face, sat where the lamplight fell
full upon him.
There was silence for a few moments, broken only by the cheery crackle
of the stove. Then Jaques spoke.
"We might as well thrash the thing out from the beginning," he said.
"The first matter to be decided is what had better be done with your
boat."
"That raises another point," asserted Bethune. "What we do with her now
depends on our plans for the future, and they're not made yet."
"Then suppose we consider that you're going back to try again in the
spring?"
Jimmy looked at Mrs. Jaques, and fancied that her expression was
encouraging.
"You're taking it for granted that we can get out of debt. If such a
thing were possible, we'd haul her up and strip her for the winter with
the first big tides."
"Not here," Jaques said pointedly. "For one thing, she'd be spotted, and
you'll see why you had better avoid that if you'll listen."
"I see one good reason now," Bethune answered with a rueful grin.
"You're not our only creditor, and the other fellow isn't likely to show
us much consideration."
"Let that go for the present. Do you know any lonely creek some distance
off where she'd lie safe and out of sight?"
"I dare say we could find one," Jimmy replied.
"Then I'm going to talk. Some time after you left, a man from Victoria
called on me. Said he was an accountant and specialized on the
development of small businesses. He'd undertake to collect doubtful
accounts, show his clients how to keep their books, and buy on the best
terms, or sell out their business, if they wanted; in fact, he said that
some of his city friends thought of trying to make a merger arrangement
with the grocery stores in the small Island ports."
"No doubt it seemed an opportunity for getting a good price for your
store," Bethune suggested.
"I wasn't keen. Things had improved since you were here, and trade was
looking up. However, I showed the man my books, and I saw that he was
especially interested when he came to your account. Asked me did I know
that you were a remittance man who had forfeited his allowance and that
your partner was a steamboat mate who'd been fired out of his ship. I
told him that I was aware of it; and he said the chances were steep
against your making good. Then he gave me some useful hints and went
away."
"That's interesting," Bethune commented. "Did you hear anything more
from him?"
"I did; not long ago he sent me an offer for my business as it stands,
with all unsettled claims and liabilities. When I got a Vancouver
drummer I know to make inquiries, he said that it ought to be a safe
proposition--the money was good."
"Ah! It looks as if somebody thought us worth powder and shot. Did you
take his offer?"
"No, sir! I stood off, for two reasons. I knew that the buyers either
foresaw a boom in the Island trade, in which case it would pay me to
hold on, or they'd some pretty strong grounds for wanting to get hold of
you. On thinking it over, I didn't see my way to help them."
"Thanks. I wonder whether Mrs. Jaques had any say in the matter?"
"She certainly had," Jaques admitted fondly. "She thought it wouldn't be
the square thing to give you away, and that to see you through might be
the best in the end."
"We're grateful; but I'm not sure that she was wise. It's obvious that
there was something crooked about the wreck, and what you have told us
implies that some men with money are anxious to cover up their tracks. I
suspect they've grown richer since the bogus gold was shipped, and might
be willing to spend a good sum to keep the matter dark. The fellow who
called on you probably knew nothing of this; he'd be merely acting for
them on commission."
None of the others spoke for the next minute. The situation demanded
thought, for they were people of no consequence, and they did not doubt
that men with means were plotting against them.
"You seem to have got hold of a dangerous secret," Mrs. Jaques said,
breaking the silence.
"An important one, at least," Bethune agreed. "It might, perhaps, get us
into trouble; but our position's pretty strong. I'll admit, though, that
I can't see what use we had better make of it."
Mrs. Jaques watched him closely.
"I suppose it has struck you that you might make a bargain with the
people who insured the gold? They'd probably pay you well if you put the
screw on them."
Jimmy started and frowned, but Bethune motioned to him to be silent.
"I wonder whether you really thought we'd take that course, ma'am?" he
asked.
"No," she smiled; "I did not. But what's the alternative?"
"We might go to the underwriters and see what we could get from them. I
suppose that's what we ought to do; but I'd rather wait. If we can clean
out the strong-room, we'll have the whole thing in our hands."
"In your hands, you mean."
"No; I meant what I said. My suggestion is that your husband should
relinquish his claim on us, and take a small share in the venture. If
he'd do so, we could go back next spring. It's a proposition I wouldn't
make before, but things have changed, and we want another man."
"Well," said Jaques, "I half expected this, and I've been doing some
figuring. The mills are booked full of orders for dressed lumber,
there's a pulp factory going up, and I'm doing better now that trade's
coming to the town. Still, I see a risk."
"So do I," Bethune replied. "We're three irresponsible adventurers
without a dollar to our credit, and we have men of weight and business
talent up against us. It's possible that they may break us; but I think
we have a fighting chance." He turned to Mrs. Jaques. "What's your
opinion?"
"Oh, I love adventure! And somehow I have confidence that you'll make
good."
"Thank you! It's evident that the opposition can do nothing at the wreck
when we're on the spot, and the ice will keep the field for us while
we're down here; but we must get back before they can send a steamer in
the spring. In the meanwhile, we have the bags of gold to dispose of."
"That's a difficulty," said Jaques. "They certainly ought to be handed
to the underwriters."
"Just so; but as soon as we part with them we give our secret away. We
must stick to them and say nothing until we finish the job."
"Wouldn't it be dangerous? You have cut one bag and broken into the box.
If the fellows who are working against you found that out, they'd claim
you had stolen the gold. Then you'd be in a tight place."
"The experience wouldn't be unusual," Bethune answered with a laugh. "We
must take our chances, and we'll put the stuff in your safe. What most
encourages me to go on is that there were several different consignments
of gold sent by the steamer and insured, and I can't take it for granted
that all the shippers were in the conspiracy. There's no reason to
suspect the contents of the remaining cases."
"You hadn't made out the marks when I last asked you about them," Jimmy
broke in.
"No; they're hardly distinguishable; but I now think I have a clue. I'm
inclined to believe the case was shipped by a man named Osborne. His
name's in the vessel's manifest, and he has been associated with her
owner for a long time. I found that out when I was considering the
salvage scheme."
Jimmy started.
"His Christian name?"
"Henry. I understand he has a house on the shore of Puget Sound. You
look as if you knew him!"
Jimmy said nothing for a few moments, though he saw that the others were
watching him curiously. Bethune's suggestion had given him a shock,
because it seemed impossible that the pleasant, cultured gentleman he
had met on board the _Empress_ should be guilty of common fraud.
Besides, it was preposterous to suppose that Ruth Osborne could be the
daughter of a rogue.
"I do know him; that is, I met him on our last voyage. But you're
mistaken," he said firmly.
"It's possible," Bethune admitted. "Time will show. I've only a
suspicion to act on."
"How do you mean to act on it? What do you propose to do?"
Bethune gave him a searching glance.
"Nothing, until we have emptied the strong-room and we'll have to
consider what's most advisable then. In the meanwhile, I expect the
opposition will let us feel their hand; there may be developments during
the winter." He turned to Jaques. "We'll lay the sloop up out of sight
with the next big tides and then go south and look for work. In the
spring we'll ask you to grubstake us, and get back to the wreck as soon
as the weather permits. I think that's our best plan."
The others agreed, and soon afterward the party broke up. As they went
back to the boat Bethune turned to Jimmy.
"Do you feel inclined to tell me what you know about Osborne?" he asked.
"I only know that you're on the wrong track. He isn't the man to join in
a conspiracy of the kind you're hinting at."
Bethune did not reply, and they went on in silence down the snowy
street. Jimmy found it hard to believe that Osborne had had any share in
the fraud, but a doubt was beginning to creep into his mind. For a few
minutes he felt tempted to abandon the search for the gold; but he
reflected that he was bound to his comrades and could not persuade them
to let the matter drop. Besides, if by any chance Bethune's suspicion
proved correct, he might be of some service to Miss Osborne. No matter
what discovery might be made, she should not suffer; Jimmy was resolved
on that.
Leaving port the next day, they found a safe berth for the sloop; and
when they had hauled her up on the beach they walked to a Siwash
rancherie, where they engaged one of the Indians to take them back in a
canoe. Reaching Vancouver by steamboat, they had some trouble in finding
work, because the approach of winter had driven down general laborers
and railroad construction gangs from the high, inland ranges to the
sheltered coast. There was, however, no frost in the seaboard valleys,
and at last Jimmy and his friends succeeded in hiring themselves to a
contractor who was clearing land.
It was not an occupation they would have taken up from choice, but as
their pockets were empty they could not be particular. The firs the
choppers felled were great in girth, and as Moran was the only member of
the party who could use the ax, the others were set to work sawing up
the massive logs with a big crosscut. Dragging the double-handled saw
backward and forward through the gummy wood all day was tiring work,
while, to make things worse, it rained most of the time and the clearing
was churned into a slough by the gangs of toiling men. When they left it
to haul out a log that had fallen beyond its edge they were forced to
plunge waist-deep into dripping brush and withered fern.
For all that, Bethune and Jimmy found the use of the crosscut easy by
comparison with their next task, for they were presently sent with one
or two others to build up the logs into piles for burning. The masses of
timber were ponderous, and the men, floundering up to the knees in
trampled mire, laboriously rolled them into place along lines of skids.
Then they must be raised into a pyramid three or four tiers high, and
getting on the last row was a herculean task carried out at the risk of
being crushed to death by the logs overpowering them and running back.
Jimmy and Bethune stuck to it because they had no other recourse,
toiling, wet through, in the slough all day and dragging themselves
back, dripping, dejected, and worn out, to the sleeping shack at night.
The building was rudely put together, and by no means watertight. Its
earth floor was slimy, the stove scarcely kept it warm, while it was
filled with a rank smell of cooking, stale tobacco, and saturated
clothes. The bunks, ranged like a shelf along the walls, were damp and
smeared with wet soil from the garments the men seldom took off; and
Jimmy was now and then wakened by the drips from the leaky roof falling
on his face. He felt that once he was able to lay them down he would
never wish to see a cant-pole or a crosscut-saw again.
But the deliverance he longed for came in a way he did not anticipate.