WHEN THE FOG-BANK LIFTED
The _Northern Light_ was lying at her wharf preparing for her long run
to the far Northern Pacific, through the numerous islands studding the
coastal waters of British Columbia, and the United States Territory of
Alaska. All day long she had been taking on board great quantities of
freight, and now on the eve of her departure passengers were arriving.
The latter were mostly men, for new gold diggings had been discovered
back in the hills bordering the Yukon River, and old-timers were
flocking northward, anticipating another Klondyke, and all that it
might mean.
Tom Reynolds stood on the wharf noting the excitement that was taking
place around him. Apart from the article he would prepare for the next
day's issue of _The Telegram_; he was more than usually interested in
what he beheld. As he watched several bronzed and grizzly veterans of
many a long trail and wild stampede, a desire entered into his heart to
join them in their new adventure. He would thus find excitement enough
to satisfy his restless nature, and perhaps at the same time share in
the golden harvest.
This longing, however, was held in check by the thought of the story he
had heard the evening before, and also by the hope of seeing again the
face he had beheld for a few fleeting seconds at the street crossing.
In fact, he had thought more of it than of the mysterious disappearance
of Henry Redmond. For the greater part of the night and all the next
day the girl had been in his mind. He tried to recall something more
about her, the color of her hair, how she was dressed, and whether she
was tall or short. But he could remember nothing except the face which
alone stood out clear and distinct. Several times during the day he
had been on the point of transferring his impressions to paper, but he
always deferred action, preferring to muse upon the beautiful vision he
had seen and to dream of meeting her again. She must still be in the
city, he reasoned, and should he go away now his chance of finding her
would be lost forever. That he would find her he had not the slightest
doubt, for among the crowds that passed daily along the streets he
would surely see her, and when he did--well, he was not certain what
would happen. Anyway, he would know more about her than at present.
He was standing watching an old man with a long gray beard and wavy
hair falling below a broad-brimmed slouch hat. He was evidently a
prospector, for he bore a good-sized pack across his right shoulder,
and was dressed as if for the trail, with a pair of coarse boots upon
his feet. His figure was commanding, almost patriarchal, and Reynolds
watched him with much interest as he walked stately and deliberately up
the gangway.
As Reynolds turned from his observation of the old man, he gave a great
start, and his heart beat wildly, for there but a few feet from him was
the very girl he had seen at the street crossing. She had just
alighted from an hotel auto, and was pointing out her baggage to one of
the cabin boys when Reynolds noticed her. He leaned eagerly forward to
catch the sound of her voice, but the noise around him made this
impossible. But he had a chance to feast his eyes upon her face, and
to note her neat dark-brown travelling suit which fitted so perfectly
her well-built erect figure. She was of medium height, and carried
herself with complete assurance as one well accustomed to travel. She
was apparently alone, for no one accompanied her as she presently went
on board the steamer.
Reynolds was all alert now, and his old-time enthusiasm returned. She
was going north, and why should not he go too? Once more thought and
action became welded, and finding that it would be three-quarters of an
hour before the steamer's departure, he hurried back to his boarding
house, gathered together his few belongings, including his artist's
outfit, thrust them into a grip, settled his board bill, and almost
raced to the _Telegram_ and _Evening News_ building, where he found the
editor who had just arrived for his nightly duties.
"I am off at once," he announced. "How will that suit you?"
"Good for you!" was the pleased reply. "Decided upon the Great Quest,
eh?"
"Yes, all settled, and away in twenty minutes."
"Where to?"
"Up north, to the edge of nowhere. How will that do?"
"Found a clue?" The editor was quite excited now.
"All the clue I need," was the evasive reply. "I shall write as soon
as possible, telling of my wanderings. So, good-by; I must be away."
"Have you enough money?" The editor was on his feet now, grasping the
young man's hand in a firm grip.
"Yes, all that's necessary for the present. If I need more I shall let
you know."
An hour later the _Northern Light_ was steaming steadily on her way.
Reynolds had been fortunate enough to obtain an upper berth, his
roommate being a young clerk destined for a branch bank in a northern
mining town. Reynolds strolled about the boat hoping to catch a
glimpse of her who was much in his mind, but all in vain. It rained
hard most of the next day, and the outside decks were uncomfortable.
It was toward evening that he saw her, walking slowly up and down the
hurricane deck abaft the funnel. She was with the captain, a fine
looking, middle-aged man, and they seemed to be on very friendly terms,
for the girl was smiling at something her companion was saying.
Reynolds lighted a cigar and began to pace up and down on the opposite
side of the deck. Others were doing the same, so no one paid any heed
to his presence. A casual observer might have thought that the silent
young man took no interest in anything around him. But Reynolds missed
hardly a movement of the girl but a few feet away. He always kept a
short distance behind and was thus able to study her closely without
attracting attention. She wore a raincoat, of a soft light material,
and her head was bare. The wind played with her dark-brown hair, and
occasionally she lifted her hand and brushed back a wayward tress that
had drifted over her forehead. At times he caught a glimpse of her
face as she swung around at the end of the beat, and it was always a
happy, animated face he beheld.
For about fifteen minutes this walk was continued, and Reynolds had
been unable to distinguish any of the conversation between the two.
But as they ended their promenade, and started to go below, they almost
brushed him in passing, and he heard the captain say, "Jack will be
home soon, and he will----" That was all Reynolds was able to
overhear, and yet it was sufficient to cause him to stop so abruptly
that he nearly collided with a man a few steps behind. Was all that
talk about Jack? he asked himself, and was that why the girl seemed so
happy in listening to her companion? Was Jack the captain's son, and
did he have the first claim upon the girl? Perhaps he was overseas,
and was expected home shortly. No doubt the girl had been visiting his
people.
Such an idea had not occurred to Reynolds before, but as he thought it
all over that night as he sat silent in the smoking-room, it did indeed
seem most reasonable. Why should he think any more about the girl? he
mused. He had been a fool for allowing his heart to run away with his
head. How could he for one instant imagine that such a girl would be
left until now without many admiring suitors, with one successful over
all the others? And no doubt that one was Jack, whose name had fallen
from the captain's lips.
Although Reynolds felt that the girl was not for him, yet he could not
banish her from his mind. She had aroused him from the paralysis of
indifference, for which he was most grateful. He would make a
desperate effort not to be again enmeshed in such a feeling. He would
throw himself ardently into the search for gold, and then turn his
attention to Henry Redmond, and strive to solve the mystery surrounding
the man.
After breakfast the next morning he went out on deck, and found the
girl already there comfortably seated in a large steamer chair. She
had evidently been reading, but the book was now lying open upon her
lap, and her hands were clasped behind her head. Reynolds caught the
gleam of a jewel on one of her fingers, and he wondered if it was an
engagement ring she was wearing. Her eyes were looking dreamily out
across the water, away to a great fog-bank hanging and drifting over
the face of the deep. Reynolds, too, looked, and the sight held him
spellbound. The mass of fog slowly rose and rolled across the
newly-bathed sun. Then it began to dissolve, and dim forms of trees
and islands made their appearance, growing more distinct moment by
moment. The scene fascinated him. It was truly a fairy world upon
which he was looking.
And as he looked, his eyes rested upon a dark speck just beneath the
overhanging fog. For a few minutes it made no impression upon his
wandering mind. But slowly he began to realize that the object was in
motion, and moving toward the steamer. Then he saw something dark
being waved as if to attract attention. He was all alert now, feeling
sure that someone was hailing the steamer. In a few minutes she would
be past, when it would be too late to be of any assistance.
Turning almost instinctively toward the pilot-house, Reynolds' eyes
fell upon the captain, who was again talking to the girl. Only for an
instant did he hesitate, and then walking rapidly along the deck, he
reached the captain's side and touched him lightly upon the arm.
"Excuse me, sir," he began, as the officer wheeled suddenly around.
"Someone seems to be signaling to you over there, just where that
fog-bank is lifting," and he pointed with his finger.
The captain and the girl both turned, and their eyes scanned the watery
expanse.
"Can you see anything, Glen?" the captain asked. "My eyes must be
failing me."
"I do now," was the reply. "Over there to the left," and she motioned
with her hand. "I see it quite plainly. It is a boat of some kind
with people in it, and they are waving to us."
"So it is!" the captain exclaimed. "Who can it be? However, we shall
soon find out."
He hurried away, and soon a long raucous blast ripped the air. Then
the steamer swerved to the right and made for the small craft which was
now plainly visible. Many of the passengers were already crowding the
rail, all greatly interested in this new diversion.
Reynolds stepped back and gave his place to another. He could watch
the approaching boat just as well here, and at the same time study to a
better advantage the girl who was standing close to the rail. He had
accomplished something, anyway, which was worth a great deal to him.
He had heard her speak and learned her name. He liked "Glen," and it
seemed to suit her. But Glen what? He longed to know that, too. Her
voice was soft and musical. It appealed to him. Yes, everything
seemed to be in harmony, he mused. Name, voice, dress, and manner, all
suited the girl admirably. It was a happy combination.
From where he was standing he could watch her unobserved. He could see
the side of her face nearest to him, and he noted how flushed it was
with excitement. She was keenly interested in the approaching boat,
and her eyes followed it most intently.
The steamer had already slowed down, and its movement now was scarcely
perceptible. Reynolds looked at the small approaching craft, and to
his surprise he saw that it was a large canoe, being paddled by four
stalwart Indians. There were several white men on board, although he
could not distinguish their faces. Who could they be, and where had
they come from? he wondered. A man standing nearby asked the same
question, though no one seemed to be able to give a satisfactory answer.
By this time the canoe was so near the steamer that from his position
Reynolds could see nothing more owing to the men crowding the rail. He
glanced toward the girl just as she turned suddenly away from the side
of the steamer and walked rapidly across the deck. She seemed much
agitated, and the flush had fled her face, leaving it very white. All
this Reynolds briefly noted, and when she had disappeared through a
door leading into the observation room, he stood wrapped in thought,
wondering as to the cause of the remarkable change that had so suddenly
taken place. Was there some mystery connected with her life, and had
she recognized someone in the canoe she did not wish to meet? He
determined to learn what he could about the picked-up men, and to keep
his eyes and ears open for further developments.