HOPWOOD GETS JARRED’S PROMISE
In the meanwhile MacAndrews had carried out his distasteful duty of
rounding up the crew in the bunk house. Most of them were too far gone
to offer much resistance and went to bed without protest. He left Ben
and the bull cook to keep guard and see that no one escaped and no
outsiders came in. Then he went up in the woods to see if he could catch
any one looking for the men up there.
He made his way to the top of one of the skid roads where he had found a
group of the swampers and road monkeys. If any attempt were made to
bring the men more whisky it would probably be there where the largest
group had been. He selected a well sheltered spot in the edge of the
brush and sat down on a log to wait.
He did not have long to wait. Hardly five minutes had passed when the
bushes on the opposite side of the road were parted cautiously and a
boy’s face peeped out. It was Foster Wait’s son. Not seeing any one, he
came slowly out into the skid road and began peering about. He was
evidently disappointed and very nervous. It was like Foster to send his
son where he was afraid to go himself.
Mac could not wait any longer. He was curious to see what the boy would
do but his desire to get his hands on him was too strong for him. He
tore from his hiding place and made a dive at the boy. But he was no
match for the badly scared boy. He eluded Mac’s grasp and sprang into
the brush like a rabbit. Mac tried to follow him, but he might as well
have tried to follow a weasel in a haystack. He soon gave it up and came
back to see if the boy had left anything behind him. As he expected he
found a large stone jug in the brush where the boy had first appeared.
With a grunt of satisfaction Mac dumped the contents on the ground.
“Enough there to paralyze the whole crew for a week,” he mumbled. He
raised the big jug over his head and was about to smash it on a rock,
but his Scotch thrift stayed his arm and he took the jug back to camp.
Mac felt that he had a victory in capturing the jug, but it would have
been far better if he had stayed in camp, for the boy was on his way
home to tell his father that he had been seen and probably recognized.
Hopwood could easily have caught the boy for Mac. After his meeting with
Scott he had headed straight for the works to see if the men had been
taken in out of harm’s way. He had been close enough to hear the
crashing of the brush and the boy had passed within a few feet of him.
But what would have been the use? They could not do anything with the
boy after they had caught him, and it did not fit into his own plans to
line up openly against his family just yet.
He followed Mac almost to camp to make sure that all the men were in,
but he did not go in himself. He turned into the brush without making
his presence known to Mac at all. A half hour later he turned in at the
gate of Jarred Morgan’s cottage.
When Hopwood entered the cabin old Jarred sprang from his chair with the
agility of a cat.
“You fooled me that time, Hopwood,” he admitted frankly. “It is a long
time since I have seen you without that iron hat. What is the meaning of
it? Is the feud ended, then?” he asked with a wry smile.
Hopwood cast a quick glance around the cabin.
Jarred answered the unspoken question. “She went out to the orchard.”
“No,” Hopwood said soberly, “the feud is not exactly ended, but I think
I am beginning to see the end of it.”
“You think I am going to cash in, do you?”
“I am hoping that it will not end that way,” Hopwood replied earnestly.
“There is only one other way that it can end,” Jarred answered, and his
jaw clenched tight.
“That’s why I have come to see you. Would you drop this feud if Foster
were put out of the way for good?” Hopwood spoke with the tone of a man
exacting an oath.
“I have never made a contract for a murder,” Jarred answered coldly,
“and I am too old to begin it now.”
“Look at me, Jarred,” and Hopwood squared himself around in front of the
old man. “Do I look like a crazy man?”
Jarred’s frown melted into an affectionate smile. “No, Hopwood, your old
iron hat has not fooled me for many years.”
“Then listen to me,” Hopwood replied with a strange tone of confident
authority. “I am no more likely to take the contract for murdering a man
than you are. You have always said that you would not give up the feud
while Foster lived. Now I want to know if you would give it up if he
were otherwise disposed of so that he would never return to this
country?”
Jarred walked to the door and gazed out across at the opposite mountain
in silence. It was five minutes before he turned back to Hopwood and his
face was haggard.
“I could do it, Hopwood,” he said sadly. “I hate to think of that
scoundrel escaping my vengeance, but I could do it, and—would,” he added
after a short struggle. “But I was thinking of Vic. Would she? I have
trained her all her life to hate the Waits, and Vic is a good hater.
Would she give it up, or would she think me a traitor?”
“I think she would give it up,” Hopwood replied confidently.
Jarred turned quietly and faced him. “What makes you think so?” he asked
sharply.
Hopwood blushed like a schoolgirl. He was silent a moment and then
looked Jarred squarely in the eye. “You know what I think of Vic and I
think she likes me. She never seems to think of me as being a Wait, but
if we should marry some day, it would end all thought of the feud.”
Jarred looked at him thoughtfully. “If I thought that could be true, I
would agree to anything,” he said slowly. “I have been wondering lately
what would become of Vic. I am not as strong as I was and I cannot last
forever. She won’t give me any reason, but she says she will never go
back to her father, and I think she means it. She’ll be terribly alone
in the world when I am gone.”
“I know why she won’t go back and I think she is right,” Hopwood replied
with a dark frown. “Would that be satisfactory to you then?” he asked
wistfully.
Jarred placed his hand affectionately on Hopwood’s shoulder. “Hopwood,
as far as I know there are only two men in the world to whom I am
indebted—you and Mr. Burton. You have done me innumerable good services,
and he brought Vic to me the night she fell off her horse. Both of you
want me to give it up. I am going to do it and pay a part of both
debts.”
Hopwood jumped to his feet and grasped the old man’s hand. “Now I can go
about my business. We’ll speak of the other some other time,” he added
with a blush.
“No need to put it off,” Jarred said. “All I ask is that you wait till
Vic has grown up. If she will have you then, there is nothing in all the
world that would please me more.”
Hopwood wrung his hand once more and ran out of the house.