Trade was slack in the Pacific province, and men from the interior
flocked down to the coast and overflowed the employment bureaus. This
made it unusually hard for Jimmy and his friends to find work. For a
month they had done almost nothing, only an odd job now and then; they
were in arrears with their hotel bill; and the future looked anything
but bright to them.
After supper one evening they sat in the lobby of their shabby hotel in
a gloomy mood. Jimmy had found temporary work, and since early morning
had been loading a vessel with lumber in a pouring rain. All day he had
been wet through, and he was tired and sore. He had grown thin, and had
a gaunt, determined look.
"What's this?" he exclaimed, examining Clay's envelope, which had just
been handed to him. "I have no acquaintances in Vancouver who use
expensive stationery." He read the note and then looked up with a
surprised frown. "It's from Clay! He asks me to meet him in the
smoking-room of his hotel. It's the big, smart place they've lately
opened."
"Oho!" said Bethune. "I've been expecting this. I suppose you mean to
go?"
"What's your opinion?"
"Perhaps it might be wiser to take no notice of the invitation; but I
don't know. I'd like to see the fellow and hear what he has to say. It's
curious that we haven't met him yet, though we have felt his influence."
"Anyway, I'm not going alone. I might make a mess of things; he's
evidently a cunning rogue. If you think it's wise to see him, you'll
have to come."
"We'll all go," said Bethune with a grin. "I believe he knows us
already, and he won't get much out of Hank."
"I'm sure not great at talking," Moran agreed. "Now, if he tried to have
us sandbagged, and you told me to get after him--"
"It hasn't come to that yet," Bethune laughed. "The fellow's more
refined in his methods, but they're quite as dangerous." He looked at
the note. "However, it's nearly time, and we may as well make a start."
Clay looked up in surprise from his seat at a small table when the three
walked in, and he felt half amused at Moran's steady, defiant stare.
This, he thought, was a strange companion for Bethune, whom he at once
recognized as the business leader of the party. Jimmy he dismissed,
after a searching glance, as less dangerous. He was the practical
seaman, no doubt, but it was his partner's intelligence that directed
their affairs.
"Sit down," Clay said, taking out his cigar-case. "I wrote to Mr.
Farquhar, but I'm glad to see you all. Will you have anything to drink?"
"No, thanks," Jimmy answered quickly; and added, "I'm afraid it's rather
an intrusion, but as we go together, I thought I might bring my
friends."
Clay understood his refusal as a declaration of hostility, but he
smiled.
"As you prefer," he said, lighting a cigar and quietly studying his
callers.
The room was large and handsome, with an inlaid floor, massive pillars,
and pictures of snow-clad mountains on the walls. It was then almost
unoccupied, and that added to the effect of its size and loftiness, but
two very smart and somewhat supercilious attendants hovered in the
background. Farquhar and his friends were shabbily dressed, and Clay had
hoped that they might feel themselves out of place and perhaps
embarrassed by his silence, but there was no sign of this. Indeed, they
seemed very much at ease. Bethune's expression was slightly bored, while
Moran glanced about with naive curiosity. For all that, they looked
worn, and there was something about them which suggested tension. They
had felt the pressure he had skilfully brought to bear, but whether it
had made them compliant or not remained to be seen.
"Well," Clay began, "we must have a talk. You have undertaken some
salvage operations at a wreck in the North?"
"Yes," Jimmy answered concisely.
"You don't seem to have been very successful."
"I dare say our appearance proves it," Bethune smiled. "As a matter of
fact, we haven't cleared our expenses yet."
Clay did not know what to think of this frankness; he imagined that if
the man had any wish to extort the best terms he could, he would have
been less candid. He saw that he must be cautious, for he had done a
risky thing in asking Farquhar to meet him. He would rather have left
the fellow alone and tried to destroy the wreck before they reached it;
but he knew that he might not live to do so. He had had his warnings and
he could not leave the matter open.
"It's obvious that, as the salvage people abandoned the vessel,
something has happened to give you a chance," he said. "However, as you
can't have money enough to buy a proper outfit, you're not likely to
make much use of the opportunity. You want steam and the best diving
gear, and I guess you found them too expensive."
"We might do better if we had them," Bethune admitted.
"Very well; are you willing to take a partner?"
There was uncompromising refusal in Jimmy's face, but he did not speak,
and Clay surmised that Bethune had given him a warning kick under the
table. Bethune, in fact, had done so, and was thinking hard. To refuse
would imply that they expected to succeed and that the salvage could be
easily accomplished with such poor apparatus as they could obtain; but
this was not advisable, because it would encourage Clay to anticipate
them.
"We might consider a sleeping partner who'd be content with his profit
on the money he supplied," he said.
"That means you intend to keep the practical operations in your own
hands?"
"Yes," Bethune answered; "you can take it that it does."
"Then the arrangement wouldn't suit me. I know more about the vessel
than you do, and I've been accustomed to directing things. But I'll bid
you five thousand dollars for your interest in the wreck."
"Strictly speaking, we have no interest that we could sell."
"That's true; but I'll buy your knowledge of how she lies and the best
way of getting at her cargo. Of course, after you have taken the money
you'll leave her alone."
"It's tempting," Bethune said thoughtfully. "But perhaps we had better
be frank. I understand that you were one of the owners, and, as the
underwriters paid you, I don't see what you would gain."
"All the gold on board her wasn't insured."
Bethune looked hard at him and Clay smiled. "It's true. Then, there's no
reason why I shouldn't have a try at the salvage. I'm open to make a
shot at anything that promises a moderate profit."
"I suppose there is no reason," Bethune agreed slowly. "Would you go up
to ten thousand dollars?"
"No, sir!" Clay said firmly. "I stick to my bid."
"Then I'm sorry we can't make a deal." Bethune turned to the others. "I
suppose that's your opinion?"
"Of course," said Jimmy; and Moran nodded.
Clay was silent for a few moments. He would gladly have given ten
thousand dollars to settle the matter, but he doubted whether Bethune
would take it; and to bid high would rouse suspicion. It looked as if he
had accomplished nothing, but he had found out that his opponents were
more capable than he had imagined, and he decided that it would be safer
to put no further pressure on them. He did not wish them to learn that
he was the cause of the trouble they had had in finding employment, as
it would indicate that he had some strong reason for preventing their
return to the wreck.
"Well," he said, "it's a pity we can't come to terms, but I can make no
fresh suggestion. You're up against a pretty big undertaking."
"So it seems," Bethune answered pleasantly. "We'll have to do the best
we can. And now, as we mustn't take up your time, I'll bid you
good-night."
Clay let them go, and as they went down the street Jimmy turned to
Bethune.
"What do you think of the interview?" he asked.
"A drawn game. Neither side has scored; but I've learned two things. The
first is that he has no suspicion that we have found the bogus case."
"How do you infer that?"
"From his view of our character. You must recollect that we're hard-up
adventurers whom he wouldn't expect to be scrupulous. He'd conclude that
if we had found anything suspicious we'd have let him know and tried to
sell our secret. He was waiting for some hint, and I was careful to give
him none."
"What's the next thing?"
"That he'll try to clean out the wreck before we get there. It was the
only reason he let us go. I dare say you noticed how careful he was not
to show any anxiety to buy us off. It's curious, but I really think he
spoke the truth when he said all the gold was not insured."
"If it had been a straight deal, with nothing behind it, I think I'd
have taken the five thousand dollars," Jimmy said. "He won't have much
trouble in getting ahead of us when the ice breaks up. It will cost
something to fit out the sloop, and our pockets are empty."
"Oh, there's time yet," Bethune replied with a cheerful laugh.
"Something may turn up."
Fortune favored them during the next week, for Bethune secured a post as
hotel clerk, and Moran went inland to assist in repairing a railroad
track which a snowslide had wrecked. Soon afterward Jimmy shipped as
deck-hand on a Sound steamboat and was lucky in attracting the attention
of one of the directors who was on board by the cool promptness with
which he prevented an accident when a passenger gangway broke. The
director had a talk with him, and, learning that he was a steamship
officer, placed him in charge of a gasolene launch which picked up
passengers at unimportant landings and took them off to the boats. The
work was easy, and paid fairly well; and Jimmy had held his post for a
month with some satisfaction when he went off to meet a north-bound
steamer at dusk one evening.
He had no passengers and it was blowing fresh with showers of sleet.
Savage gusts whipped the leaden water into frothing white, and as he
drew out from the shore the ripples which chased the launch grew larger.
When he passed a headland they changed into short, breaking seas, and
the craft plunged wildly as she crossed a strong run of tide. Here and
there an island loomed up dimly, but the shore had faded into the haze.
When Jimmy first joined her, the boat had carried another hand, but the
man had gone and had not been replaced because trade was slack in
winter. Jimmy thought that he might have trouble in getting his
passengers on board; but they were not likely to be numerous, and the
steamer would run into shelter behind an island.
He was late, for his engine was not working well, but there was no sign
of the steamer when he stopped, and the boat lay rolling with the spray
blowing across her rail. It rattled on Jimmy's slickers and stung his
face, but the cold was mild by comparison with what he had endured in
the North, and he sat in the shelter of the coaming, glancing up the
Sound every now and then. Presently a sleet-storm broke upon him, and
when it blew away a blinking white light and a colored one broke out of
the driving cloud. Jimmy lighted a blue flare and, starting the engine,
headed for the end of the island. When he stopped, the steamer was close
ahead, a lofty, gray mass, banded with rows of lights. She rolled as she
crossed the tide-stream, and he could see the foam about her big
side-wheels and the smoke that swept from her inclined stacks. It did
not look as if she were stopping, and he was about to get out of her way
when a deep blast of her whistle broke through the turmoil of the sea.
In another minute he was abreast of the gangway and caught the rope
thrown down, though he kept the launch off at a few yards' distance.
The ladder was lowered, and hung banging awkwardly against the vessel's
side; and while Jimmy waited with his hand on the tiller a deck-hand ran
down to the lowest step and flung a valise into the boat, and then
turned to assist a woman who followed him. Jimmy could not see her well,
but he noticed that she was active and not timid, which was reassuring,
and he cautiously sheered the launch closer in.
"Give me your hand and jump!" he cried.
She did as he directed, and when she was safe on board he stood looking
up at the gangway.
"That's all!" somebody shouted; and when he let the rope go, the
side-wheels churned and the steamer forged ahead while the launch slid
clear of her with propeller rattling.
Jimmy pulled up a canvas hood which covered part of the cockpit and
lighted a lantern under it before he turned to his passenger.
"If you sit here, you'll be out of the wind and spray. Where are you
going?"
"To Pine Landing." She gave a start when Jimmy stooped over the engine
where the light fell upon him. "You!" she cried. "Mr. Farquhar!"
He gazed at her in surprise, with his heart throbbing. Though she had
turned her head quickly and the light was not good, he thought he had
seen a flush of color in her face.
"It was too dark to recognize you until you spoke, Miss Osborne," he
said as coolly as he could. "Then, I didn't expect to see you here."
"Our house is scarcely a mile from the Landing."
"The pretty place in the woods? I didn't know it was yours. I've seen it
from a distance, but have never been there."
"I think you are to blame for that," she said.
"Until a few weeks ago, I was living on the Canadian side." Jimmy
laughed as he added: "Besides, I hadn't many opportunities for making
visits."
Ruth glanced at him with quick sympathy, remembering how he had looked
when she had last seen him; but he was doing something to the engine and
his face was hidden.
"How did you come to be in this boat?" she asked.
"I'm her captain, but just now I wish I were an engineer," he answered
humorously. "She's not running as she ought to do, and I'm afraid you'll
have rather a long trip. In fact, I think we had better go round behind
the island where there's smoother water. Will your people be anxious
because you're late?"
"They don't expect me until to-morrow. Some friends were traveling by
the boat, and I thought I could get home before it was dark."
Jimmy thrilled at her nearness, but he knew that he must steel himself
against her charm. Her friends were his enemies and he could not involve
her in any difficulties with them. He must wait until fortune favored
him, if it ever did so. But the waiting was hard.
"You didn't tell me how you happen to be running this boat," she
reminded him with a smile.
"Well, you see, I didn't want to leave this neighborhood," Jimmy
explained slowly, picking his words. "My partners and I have a plan
which we can't put into execution yet, and it prevents us from going too
far from Vancouver. I'm not sure that anything will come of it, but it
might. One lives in hope."
Ruth was relieved by his answer. It had been painful to think of his
following some rough occupation, and, worse still, wandering about the
city in search of work. Though she felt sorry for him, it made her
indignant. She hated to imagine his being content to live among the
broken men she had seen hanging about the dollar hotels.
"Mr. Farquhar," she said, "even in this country it is hard for a man to
stand alone, and I think there are times when one is justified in taking
a favor from one's friends. Now, you were very kind on board the
_Empress_, and I'm sure my father--"
He made an abrupt movement, and she stopped, and just then the launch
plunged her bows into a breaking sea and a shower of spray blew inside
the hood.
"It's impossible," he said firmly a few moments later. "I suppose I'm
stupidly independent; but there are my partners to consider. They expect
me to see our plans through. After all, they may turn out as we hope."
"And then?"
"Then," he answered carelessly, "I don't think I'll carry any more
lumber or drive this kind of boat."
Ruth felt baffled and inclined to be angry. She had had impecunious
admirers who did not consider her father's money a disadvantage. Jimmy's
was, of course, a more becoming attitude, but she thought he adhered to
it too firmly. Then, as she remembered his worn look and his threadbare
clothes when she met him in Vancouver, she was moved to pity. The
trouble was that it could not be shown. She could not offer him sympathy
which he did not seem to want.
"I hope that you will succeed in your venture," she said.
"Thank you," he answered; "we'll do our best. Now I must keep a
look-out, for there's a rock in the channel."
There was strain in his voice, and she was glad to see that his reserve
cost him something; but she saw the need for caution when a gray mass of
stone loomed out of the darkness close at hand with the sea spouting
about it. After that she made no further attempt to talk, and they went
on in silence, both sensible of constraint and yet not wishing the
voyage at an end.
When they swung round a rocky point, Jimmy stopped the engine, and the
launch ran in toward a small wooden pier. Dark pines rolled down to the
water, and the swell broke angrily upon the beach and surged among the
piles. There was nobody about, but Jimmy caught a trailing rope abreast
of a few steps where the water washed up and down, while the launch
ground against the weedy timber.
"I'll get out and help you up," he said.
Ruth hesitated when she saw him stand knee-deep on the lowest step,
holding out his hand; but there was no way of getting ashore dry without
his assistance. The next moment he had thrown his arm about her and
stood, tense and strung up, trying to preserve his balance. She knew
that it would be ridiculous to let herself fall into the sea, and she
yielded to his grasp, sinking down into his arms with her head on his
shoulder. He staggered as he reached the next slippery step, and she
clung closer to him in alarm; then, as she thrilled at the contact, she
felt his heart beat and his muscles suddenly grow tense. He caught his
breath with a curious gasp, and Ruth knew that it was not caused by the
physical effort he had to make. She lay still, not inert but yielding,
until he gently set her down out of reach of the water. She was glad
that the darkness hid her burning face; and Jimmy stood curiously quiet,
with his hand clenched.
No words were needed. Both knew that something had happened to them
during the last few moments; something which might be ignored but could
not be forgotten. They were no longer acquaintances; the tie of
friendship had broken with the strain and could be replaced only by a
stronger bond.
Ruth was the first to recover.
"My valise is in the boat," she said, with a strange little laugh.
For a tense moment Jimmy was silent. Then:
"Yes," he replied; "I forgot it." He sprang down and returned with the
bag. "I'm afraid you'll have to send for it and go home alone. The
launch would get damaged if I left her here, and I couldn't take her
alongside your landing to-night."
"It isn't very far through the woods," Ruth said, and hesitated a moment
before she gave him her hand. "I'm glad I met you, and I will look
forward to hearing of your success."
Jimmy dropped her hand quickly and jumped back on board, but Ruth stood
still until the launch vanished into the darkness. Then she started
homeward with her nerves tingling and her heart beating fast. She knew
what Jimmy felt for her, and she wondered when the time would come when
he could avow it openly.