at its roots had caused it to rise overnight. A sawmill shrieked
complainingly; a noisy switch-engine shunted rows of flat cars back and
forth, tooting lustily; the rattle of steam-winches and the cries of
stevedores from a discharging freighter echoed against the hillsides.
Close huddled at the water-front lay the old cannery buildings, greatly
expanded and multiplied now and glistening with fresh paint. Back of
them again lay the town, its stumpy, half-graded streets terminating in
the forest like the warty feelers of a stranded octopus. Everywhere was
hurry and confusion, and over all was the ever-present shroud of mist
which thickened into showers or parted reluctantly to let the sun peep
through.
Dan Appleton, his clothing dewy from the fog, his cheeks bronzed by
exposure, was over the rail before the ship had made fast, and had
Eliza in his arms, crushing her with the hug of a bear.
"Come up to the house, Sis, quick!" he cried, when the first frenzy of
greeting was over--"your house and mine!" His eyes were dancing, his
face was alight with eagerness.
"But, Danny," she laughed, squeezing his arm tenderly, "you live with
Mr. O'Neil and all those other men in a horrible, crawling bunk-house."
"Oh, do I? I'll have you know that our bunk-houses don't crawl. And
besides--But wait! It's a s'prise."
"A s'prise?" she queried, eagerly. "For me?"
He nodded.
"Tell me what it is, quick! You know I never could wait for s'prises."
"Well, it's a brand-new ultra-stylish residence for just you and me.
When the chief heard you were coming he had a cottage built."
"Danny! It was only five days ago that I cabled you!"
"That's really ten days for us, for you see we never sleep. It is
finished and waiting, and your room is in white, and the paint will be
dry to-morrow. He's a wonder!"
Remembering the nature of her mission, Eliza demurred. "I'm afraid I
can't live there, Dan. You know"--she hesitated--"I may have to write
some rather dreadful things about him."
"What?" Dan's face fell. "You are going to attack the chief! I had no
idea of that!" He looked genuinely distressed and a little stern.
She laid a pleading hand upon his arm. "Forgive me, Dan," she said. "I
knew how you would feel, and, to tell the truth, I don't like that part
of it one bit. But it was my big chance--the sort of thing I have been
waiting years for. I couldn't bear to miss it." There was a suspicion
of tears in her eyes. "I didn't think it all out. I just came. Things
get awfully mixed, don't they? Of course I wouldn't attack him
unfairly, but I do believe in conservation--and what could I do but
come here to you?"
Dan smiled to reassure her. "Perhaps you won't feel like excoriating
him when you learn more about things. I know you wouldn't be unfair.
You'd flunk the job first. Wait till you talk to him. But you can't
refuse his kindness, for a time at least. There's nowhere else for you
to stay, and Murray would pick you up and put you into the cottage,
muck-rake and all, if I didn't. He had to go out on the work this
morning or he'd have been here to welcome you. He sent apologies and
said a lot of nice things, which I've forgotten."
"Well"--Eliza still looked troubled--"all right. But wait," she cried,
with a swift change of mood. "I've made a little friend, the dearest,
the most useless creature! We shared the same stateroom and we're
sisters. She actually says I'm pretty, so of course I'm her slave for
life." She hurried away in the midst of Dan's loyal protestations that
she WAS pretty--more beautiful than the stars, more pleasing to the eye
than the orchids of Brazil. A moment later she reappeared to present
Natalie Gerard.
Dan greeted the new arrival with a cordiality in which there was a
trace of shyness unusual with him. "We've made quite a change since you
were up here, Miss Gerard," he remarked. "The ships stop first at Omar
now, you see. I trust it won't inconvenience you."
"Not in the least," said Natalie. "I shall arrive at Hope quite soon
enough."
"Omar Khayyam is out in the wilderness somewhere," Eliza informed her
girl friend, "with his book of verses and his jug of wine, I suppose."
"Mr. O'Neil?"
"Yes. But he'll be back soon, and meanwhile you are to come up and see
our paradise."
"It--looks terribly wet," Natalie ventured. "Perhaps we'd better wait
until the rain stops."
"Please don't," Dan laughed. "It won't stop until autumn and then it
will only change to snow. We don't have much sunshine--"
"You must! You're tanned like an Indian," his sister exclaimed.
"That's rust! O'Neil wanted to get a record of the bright weather in
Omar, so he put a man on the job to time it, but the experiment failed!"
"How so?"
"We didn't have a stop-watch in town. Now come! Nobody ever catches
cold here--there isn't time."
He led the two girls ashore and up through the town to a moss-green
bungalow, its newness attested by the yellow sawdust and fresh shavings
which lay about. Amid their exclamations of delight he showed them the
neatly furnished interior, and among other wonders a bedroom daintily
done in white, with white curtains at the mullioned windows and a suite
of wicker furniture.
"Where he dug all that up I don't know," Dan said, pointing to the bed
and dresser and chairs. "He must have had it hidden out somewhere."
Eliza surveyed this chamber with wondering eyes. "It makes me feel
quite ashamed," she said, "though, of course, he did it for Dan. When
he discovers my abominable mission he'll probably set me out in the
rain and break all my lead-pencils. But--isn't he magnificent?"
"He quite overwhelms one," Natalie agreed. "Back in New York, he's been
sending me American Beauties every week for more than a year. It's his
princely way." She colored slightly, despite the easy frankness of her
manner.
"Oh, he's always doing something like that," Dan informed them,
whereupon his sister exclaimed:
"You see, Natalie! The man is a viper. If he let his beard grow I'm
sure we'd see it was blue."
"You shall have an opportunity of judging," came O'Neil's voice from
behind them, and he entered with hands outstretched, smiling at their
surprise. When he had expressed his pleasure at Natalie's presence and
had bidden both her and Eliza welcome to Omar, he explained:
"I've just covered eighteen miles on a railroad tricycle and my back is
broken. The engines were busy, but I came, anyhow, hoping to arrive
before the steamer. Now what is this I hear about my beard?"
It was Eliza's turn to blush, and she outdid Natalie.
"They were raving about your gallantry," said Dan with all a brother's
ruthlessness, "until I told them it was merely a habit of mind with
you; then Sis called you a Bluebeard."
O'Neil smiled, stroking his stubbly chin. "You see it's only gray."
"I--don't see," said Eliza, still flushing furiously.
"You would if I continued to let it grow."
"Hm-m! I think, myself, it's a sort of bluish gray," said Dan.
"You are still working miracles," Natalie told O'Neil, an hour later,
while he was showing his visitors the few sights of Omar--"miracles of
kindness, as usual."
Dan and his sister were following at a distance, arm in arm and
chattering like magpies.
"No, no! That cottage is nothing. Miss Appleton had to have some place
to stop."
"This all seems like magic." Natalie paused and looked over the busy
little town. "And to think you have done it in a year."
"It was not I who did it; the credit belongs to those 'boys' of whom I
told you. They are all here, by the way--Parker, McKay, Mellen,
Sheldon, 'Doc' Gray--he has the hospital, you know."
"And Mr. Slater?"
"Oh, we couldn't exist without 'Happy Tom'! No, the only miracle about
all this is the loyalty that has made it possible. It is that which has
broken all records in railroad-building; that's what has pushed our
tracks forward until we're nearly up to one of Nature's real miracles.
You shall see those glaciers, one of these days. Sometimes I wonder if
even the devotion of those men will carry us through the final test.
But--you shall meet them all, to-night--my whole family."
"I can't. The ship leaves this afternoon."
"I've arranged to send you to Hope in my motor-boat, just as Mr. Gordon
sent me on my way a year ago. You will stay with the Appletons to-night
and help at the house-warming, then Dan will take you on in the
morning. Women are such rare guests at Omar that we refuse to part with
them. You agree?"
"How can I refuse? Your word seems to be law here. I'll send word to
mother by the ship that I am detained by royal decree."
She spoke with a gaiety that seemed a little forced, and at mention of
her departure a subtle change had come over her face. O'Neil realized
that she had matured markedly since his last meeting with her; there
was no longer quite the same effect of naive girlishness.
"This was a very unhappy year for your loyal subject, Mr. O'Neil."
"I'm sorry," he declared with such genuine kindliness that she was
moved to confide in him.
"Mother and I are ruined."
"Will you tell me about it?"
"It's merely--those wretched coal claims. I have a friend in the Land
Office at Washington, and, remembering what you said, I asked him to
look them up. I knew no other way to go about it. He tells me that
something was done, or was not done, by us, and that we have lost all
we put in."
"I urged Gordon to obey that ruling, last spring." Natalie saw that his
face was dark with indignation, and the knowledge that he really cared
set her heart to pounding gratefully. She was half tempted to tell
about that other, that greater trouble which had stolen in upon her
peace of mind and robbed her of her girlhood, but she shrank from
baring her wounds--above all, a wound so vital and so personal as this.
"Does your mother know?" he queried.
"No, I preferred to tell her in Mr. Gordon's presence." Murray noticed
that she no longer called the man uncle. "But now that the time has
come, I'm frightened."
"Never allow yourself to be afraid. Fear is something false; it doesn't
exist."
"It seems to me he was--unfaithful to his trust. Am I right?"
"That is something you must judge for yourself," he told her, gravely.
"You see, I don't know anything about the reasons which prompted him to
sacrifice your rights. He may have had very good reasons. I dare say he
had. In building this railroad I have felt but one regret; that is the
indirect effect it may have upon you and your mother. Your affairs are
linked closely with Gordon's and the success of my enterprise will mean
the failure of his."
"You mustn't feel that way. I'm sure it won't affect us at all, for we
have nothing more to lose. Sometimes I think his judgment is faulty,
erratic, wonderful man though he is. Mother trusts him blindly, of
course, and so do I, yet I hardly know what to do. It is impossible
that he did worse than make a mistake."
Her dark eyes were bent upon Murray and they were eloquent with the
question which she could not bring herself to ask. He longed to tell
her frankly that Curtis Gordon was a charlatan, or even worse, and that
his fairest schemes were doomed to failure by the very nature of his
methods, but instead he said:
"I'm deeply distressed. I hope things are not as bad as you think and
that Mr. Gordon will be able to straighten them out for you. If ever I
can be of service you must be sure to call upon me."
Her thanks were conventional, but in her heart was a deep, warm
gratitude, for she knew that he meant what he said and would not fail
her.
Dan Appleton, eying Natalie and his chief from a distance, exclaimed,
admiringly:
"She's a perfect peach, Sis. She registered a home run with me the
first time at bat."
"She IS nice."
"You know a fellow gets mighty lonely in a place like this. She'd make
a dandy sister-in-law for you, wouldn't she?"
"Forget it!" said Eliza, sharply. "That's rank insubordination. Omar
Khayyam snatched her from the briny and tried to die for her. He has
bought her two acres of the most expensive roses and he remembers the
date of her birthday. Just you keep your hands off."
"How does she feel about him?"
"Oh, she heroizes him, of course. I don't know just how deep the
feeling goes, but I got the impression that it was pretty serious. Two
women can't borrow hair-pins and mix powder puffs for a week and remain
strangers."
"Then, as for Daniel Appleton, C.E., GOOD NIGHT!" exclaimed her
brother, ruefully. "If I were a woman I'd marry him myself, provided I
could get ahead of the rush; but, being a male of the species, I
suppose I shall creep out into the jungle and sulk."
"Right-o! Don't enter this race, for I'm afraid you'd be a bad loser!
Personally I can't see anything in him to rave about. What scares me
pink is the knowledge that I must tell him the wretched business that
brings me here. If he strikes me, Danny, remember I'm still your
sister."
When the big gong gave the signal for luncheon Appleton conducted
Natalie and Eliza to the company messroom, where the field and office
force dined together, and presented them to his fellow-lieutenants. At
supper-time those who had been out on the line during the day were
likewise introduced, and after a merry meal the whole party escorted
the two girls back to the green bungalow.
"Why, here's a piano!" Eliza exclaimed upon entering the parlor.
"I borrowed it for the evening from the Elite Saloon," O'Neil
volunteered. "It's a dissipated old instrument, and some of its teeth
have been knocked out--in drunken brawls, I'm afraid--but the owner
vouched for its behavior on this occasion."
"It knows only one tune--'I Won't Go Home until Morning,'" Dan declared.
McKay, however, promptly disproved this assertion by seating himself at
the keyboard and rattling off some popular melodies. With music and
laughter the long twilight fled, for O'Neil's "boys" flung themselves
into the task of entertaining his guests with whole-souled enthusiasm.
So successful were their efforts that even "Happy Tom" appeared to
derive a mild enjoyment from them, which was a testimonial indeed. His
pleasure was made evident by no word of praise, nor faintest smile, but
rather by the lightened gloom in which he chewed his gum and by the
fact that he complained of nothing. In truth, he was not only
entertained by the general gaiety, but he was supremely interested in
Miss Appleton, who resembled no creature he had ever seen. He had met
many girls like Natalie, and feared them, but Eliza, with her
straightforward airs and her masculine mannerisms, was different. She
affected him in a way at once pleasant and disagreeable. He felt no
diffidence in speaking to her, for instance--a phenomenon which was in
itself a ground for suspicion. Then, too, her clothes--he could not
take his eyes off her clothes--were almost like Dan's. That seemed to
show common sense, but was probably only the sign of an eccentric,
domineering nature. On the other hand, the few words she addressed to
him were gracious, and her eyes had a merry twinkle which warmed his
heart. She must be all right, he reluctantly concluded, being Dan's
sister and O'Neil's friend. But deep down in his mind he cherished a
doubt.
At her first opportunity Eliza undertook to make that confession the
thought of which had troubled her all the afternoon. Drawing O'Neil
aside, she began with some trepidation, "Have you any idea why I'm
here?"
"I supposed either you or Dan had achieved your pet ambition."
"Far from it. I have a fell purpose, and when you learn what it is I
expect you to move the piano out--that's what always happens in the
play when the heroine is dispossessed. Well, then, I've been sent by
The Review to bare all the disgraceful secrets of your life!"
"I'm delighted to learn you'll be here so long. You can't possibly
finish that task before next spring." His manner, though quizzical, was
genuinely hearty.
"Don't laugh!" said the girl. "There's nothing funny about it. I came
north as a spy."
"Then you're a Northern Spy!"
"Apples!" she cried. "You remembered, didn't you? I never supposed men
like you could be flippant. Well, here goes for the worst." She
outlined her conversation with the editor of her paper.
"So you think I'm trying to steal Alaska," he said when she had
concluded.
"That seems to be the general idea."
"It's a pretty big job."
"Whoever controls transportation will have the country by the throat."
"Yet somebody must build railroads, since the Government won't. Did it
ever occur to you that there is a great risk involved in a thing of
this sort, and that capital must see a profit before it enters a new
field? I wonder if you know how badly this country needs an outlet and
how much greater the benefit in dollars and cents will be to the men in
the interior than to those who finance the road. But I perceive that
you are a conservationist."
"Rabid!" Eliza bridled a little at the hint of amused superiority in
his voice. "I'm a suffragist, too! I dare say that adds to your
disgust."
"Nonsense!" he protested. "I have no quarrel with conservation nor with
'votes for women.' Neither have I anything to conceal. I'm only afraid
that, like most writers, you will be content with half-information.
Incomplete facts are responsible for most misunderstandings. If you are
in earnest and will promise to take the time necessary to get at all
the facts, I'll make an agreement with you."
"I promise! Time and a typewriter are my only assets. I don't intend to
be hurried."
Dan approached, drawn by the uncomfortable knowledge of his sister's
predicament, and broke in:
"Oh, Sis has time to burn! She's going to write a book on the salmon
canneries while she's here. It's bound to be one of the 'six best
smellers'!"
O'Neil waved him away with the threat of sending him out among the
mosquitoes.
"I'll agree to show you everything we're doing."
"Even to the coal-fields?"
"Even to them. You shall know everything, then you can write what you
please."
"And when I've exposed you to the world as a commercial pickpocket, as
a looter of the public domain--after Congress has appropriated your
fabulous coal claims--will you nail up the door of this little cottage,
and fire Dan?"
"No."
"Will you still be nice to me?"
"My dear child, you are my guest. Come and go when and where you will.
Omar is yours so long as you stay, and when you depart in triumph,
leaving me a broken, discredited wretch, I shall stand on the dock and
wave you a bon voyage. Now it's bedtime for my 'boys,' since we rise at
five o'clock."
"Heavens! Five! Why the sun isn't up at that time!"
"The sun shines very little here; that's why we want you to stay at
Omar. I wish we might also keep Miss Natalie."
When the callers had gone Eliza told Natalie and Dan:
"He took it so nicely that I feel more ashamed than ever. One would
think he didn't care at all. Do you suppose he does?"
"There's no denying that you appeared at an unfortunate time," said her
brother.
"Why?"
"Well--I'm not sure we'll ever succeed with this project. Parker says
the glacier bridge can be built, but the longer he studies it the
graver he gets. It's making an old man of him."
"What does Mr. O'Neil say?"
"Oh, he's sanguine, as usual. He never gives up. But he has other
things to worry him--money! It's money, money, all the time. He wasn't
terribly rich, to begin with, and he has used up all his own fortune,
besides what the other people put in. You see, he never expected to
carry the project so far; he believed the Trust would buy him out."
"Well?"
"It hasn't and it evidently doesn't intend to. When it learned of his
plan, its engineers beat it out to the glaciers and looked them over.
Then they gave up their idea of building in from Cortez, but instead of
making terms with us, they moved their whole outfit down to Kyak Bay,
right alongside of the coal-fields, and now it has become a race to the
glaciers, with Gordon fighting us on the side just to make matters
lively. The Trust has the shorter route, but we have the start."
"Why didn't Mr. O'Neil take Kyak as a terminus, instead of Omar?"
"He says it's not feasible. Kyak is an open harbor, and he says no
breakwater can be built there to withstand the storms. He still clings
to that belief, although the Trust is actually building one. If they
succeed we're cooked. Meanwhile he's rushing work and straining every
nerve to raise more money. Now you come along with a proposal to
advertise the whole affair to the public as a gigantic graft and set
Congress against him. I think he treated you mighty well, under the
circumstances."
"I won't act against my convictions," Eliza declared, firmly, "even if
it means calamity to everybody."
Natalie spoke for the first time, her voice tuned to a pitch of feeling
that contrasted oddly with their conversational tones.
"If you hurt my Irish Prince," she said, "I shall hate you as long as I
live."
IX
WHEREIN GORDON SHOWS HIS TEETH
Affairs at Hope were nearly, if not quite, as prosperous as those at
Omar, for Curtis Gordon's advertising had yielded large and quick
returns. His experiment, during the previous summer, of bringing his
richest stockholders north, had been a great success. They had come,
ostensibly at his expense, and once on the ground had allowed
themselves to be fairly hypnotized. They had gone where he led, had
seen what he pointed out, had believed what he told them. Their
imaginations were fired with the grandeur of an undertaking which would
develop the vast resources of the north country for the benefit of the
struggling pioneers of the interior and humanity in general.
Incidentally they were assured over and over again in a great variety
of ways that the profits would be tremendous. Gordon showed them Hope
and its half-completed mine buildings, he showed them the mountain
behind. It was a large mountain. They noticed there were trees on the
sides of it and snow on its top. They marveled. He said its heart was
solid copper ore, and they gasped. Had he told them in the same
impressive manner that the hill contained a vein three inches thick
they would have exhibited the same astonishment. They entered the
dripping tunnels and peered with grave approval at the drills, the
rock-cars and the Montenegrin miners. They rambled over the dumps, to
the detriment of shoe-leather and shins, filling their suit-cases with
samples of perfectly good country rock. They confessed to each other,
with admirable conservatism, that the proposition looked very
promising, very promising indeed, and they listened with appreciation
to Gordon's glowing accounts of his railroad enterprise, the physical
evidence of which consisted of a mile or two of track which shrank
along the steep shore-front and disappeared into a gulch as if ashamed
of itself. He had a wonderful plan to consolidate the mining and
railroad companies and talked of a giant holding corporation which
would share in the profits of each. The details were intricate, but he
seemed to see them all with perfect clearness, and his victims agreed.
He entertained them on a scale that was almost embarrassing, and when
they returned to their homes they outdid one another in their praise of
the financial genius who was leading them to the promised land of
profits and preferred stock. As a matter of course they one and all
advised their friends to buy, vouching for the fabulous richness of
Hope Consolidated, and since their statements were backed by a personal
examination of the property, subscriptions came pouring in.
All in all, the excursion had proven so profitable that Gordon had
arranged for another, designed to accommodate new investors and
promising "prospects." Preparations for their welcome were under way
when Natalie arrived.
The girl and her mother talked late that evening, and Gordon saw on the
following morning that Gloria, at least, had passed a trying night; but
he gave himself no uneasiness. Emotional storms were not unusual; he
always disregarded them as far as possible, and usually they passed off
quietly. During breakfast he informed them:
"I received a letter from Miss Golden in yesterday's mail. She is to be
one of the new party."
"Did you invite her to return this summer?" Mrs. Gerard inquired.
"Yes!"
"I remember her well," said Natalie--"too well, in fact. I thought her
very bold."
"She is one of our largest investors, and she writes she would enjoy
spending a fortnight here after the others go back."
"Will you allow it?"
"Allow it! My dear Gloria, I can't possibly refuse. In fact it would be
the height of inhospitality not to urge her to do so. She is welcome to
stay as long as she chooses, for these quarters are as much hers as
ours. I hope you will be nice to her."
Mrs. Gerard made no answer, but later in the morning sought Gordon in
his private office.