Colorado Jim Part 32

"_We're_ broke," she corrected.

Impatiently he caught her by the arms. He lowered his voice to impress upon her the necessity of carrying out his plan.

"Don't you see how we stand? Angela, I'm asking you to do this. I've only that pa.s.sage money left. This ain't the place for you----"

"Why didn't you discover that before?"

He bit his lips at the retort.

"I guess I was looking at things squint-eyed. I bin used to rough women who were born to hardship----"

She flared up indignantly.

"And that's just it. You want to make me less than these--wild women.

Women are women all the world over. If they can suffer uncomplainingly, so can I. If they can dig gold and mush dogs, so can I. I dug out there along the creeks when you were ill and unconscious----"

"You dug----" Words failed him.

"Yes. I _won't_ appear contemptible in your eyes. And I won't accept gifts--not even of freedom. You bought me and paid for me, and the debt remains."

"But I didn't buy your--soul."

"And I'm not giving it you," she retorted.

He sunk his head, feeling hopelessly beaten in the argument. All the time he was conscious of inward joy. To let her go was to suffer h.e.l.l. The sudden fierceness that leaped out from her only increased his insatiable desire for her. She seemed even more beautiful in the role of tigress than in the old frigid pose of a Greek G.o.ddess.

"Have your own way," he said.

"I intend to. You fixed the laws and you can't abuse them. Fifty thousand pounds is a lot of money--more, perhaps, than most men would pay for me.

But one day someone may----"

He clutched her and glared into her eyes in deep resentment.

"Do you think I would give you up for money?--my G.o.d!"

"You gave me your word," she said. "You never go back on your word--you said so."

He uttered a groan.

"It was fifty thousand," she said in level tones. "I shall not forget."

"Angela!"

"Plus ten per cent. interest," she added tensely.

CHAPTER XVIII

A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE

Another week, and Jim had recovered all his old strength. With the spring in close proximity, and the food supply running dangerously short, he spared neither himself nor the dogs in his last feverish endeavor to achieve success.

Angela's att.i.tude puzzled him not a little. Since that fierce pa.s.sage of words in the shack she had made no single reference to the future. She carried on the housekeeping with increased zest. Never again were the breakfast plates found unwashed at the next meal. She began to take a pride in making the cabin as comfortable as circ.u.mstances would allow, even going to the trouble of seeking berried evergreens in the woods and transforming these into table decoration.

Occasionally she went out to meet the disappointed Jim coming back from his fruitless expeditions, and mushed the dogs while he sat on the sled.

It seemed that she had succeeded in reconciling the situation--in making the best of a bad job.

One morning Jim announced his intention of exploring a small creek not a great distance from the shack. He started off with shovel and pick and the eternal washing-pan under a leaden sky. It was then an idea came to Angela. On her journey back from her abortive flight she had noticed a creek which displayed all the characteristics of those rich, shallow claims of which the Klond.y.k.e yields so many examples. Why not undertake a prospecting trip on her own account? There was a spare shovel, pick, and pan, and she had bored holes in frozen gravel before. She decided to harness up the sled and put her plan into execution.

At noon she started off with her team on the eight-mile journey. A close study of the map had convinced her that by taking the overland route she would save at least two miles either way. But her knowledge of maps was not great, and she entirely neglected to take into consideration the contour markings, which would immediately have warned any experienced traveler against such a pa.s.sage.

The trail led up over a big hill and down a ravine, and for a mile or two was good "going." Coming out of the ravine the configuration changed. A jumbled ma.s.s of precipitous hills and canyons confronted her. She drove the dogs to an elevated point and looked before her. The great serpentine river came to view, clearly outlined by its wooded banks, and no more than two miles distant. On the near side of the river ran the creek she sought.

She gave a sigh of relief and urged the dogs on. The road narrowed and ascended again. The mountain-side fell away, and she found herself on a narrow ledge with a vast chasm beneath. She thought of turning back, but there was no room to turn the dogs round. Catching her breath, she went carefully forward. A few small flakes of snow on her shoulders, and then the inky sky began to empty itself. It came down in a great ma.s.s, obliterating everything. A cold terror began to possess her. In the blinding snow she could not discern the path for more than a yard or two ahead, and by the side of her yawned that dreadful chasm!

She edged in close to the perpendicular wall, peering into the whirling ma.s.s of snow. The dogs stopped, and she urged them on again, knowing that the pa.s.s must soon descend to the river.

Suddenly there was a fierce uproar among the dogs. The sled jerked forward, and commenced to move at tremendous speed. A slight wind created a funnel-like opening in the dense white cloud before her. She gave one long shriek of horror at the sight which met her eyes. The sled was on the very brink of a precipice! It hovered there for a moment--just long enough for her to fling herself sideways against the wall; then it, and the team, vanished over the side, taking a ma.s.s of snow down, down into the bottomless depths.

She crouched against the wall, petrified by what had happened. A thundering noise came up from the black hole, reverberating through the pa.s.s and over the mountains as sled and dogs were hurled to their doom.

She put her fingers in her ears to keep out the dreadful sound.

It ceased, and the great silence came again. Faint and sick, she realized that her left shoulder was aching with intense pain through contact with the rock wall.

There was nothing to be done but go back and confess the catastrophe to Jim. She stood up and commenced creeping along the dreadful path. Her left arm was hanging in useless fashion, setting up acute pain at the shoulder.

The full significance of her folly came to her. She had driven a team of dogs worth at least a thousand dollars to oblivion. Their chief means of travel was gone, and hundreds of miles lay between them and civilization.

How could she confess the loss to Jim? What would he say?

For an hour she plodded on through the deep snow, her mind ranging over the past. Whatever might be said of this wild husband of hers, he had played the game as he saw it. She had to admit this. Culture and breeding were very desirable things, but had he not some other natural quality which, at the least computation, balanced these attributes? Could any man of her own set have acted with greater respect for her womanhood than he?

Until recently she had been no companion to him--nothing but a continual drag on the wheel. She had hurt him in speech and action. She had deliberately set her mind on making clear to him his cultural and moral inferiority. In return for this he had given her to feel a complete sense of safety. Sleeping within a few feet of him she had never, for a moment, felt the slightest possibility of molestation or intrusion on his part. It had been easy to take this all for granted--because he was a wild man and she was a cultured woman. She had come to see that "wild men" did not show such a refinement of consideration, even though they might conceivably acknowledge their social inferiority. She knew of no other man with whom she could have entrusted herself as she did with this one. Moreover, he was her husband....

She was glad she was making things a little more pleasant for him. She saw that his natural gayety and _joie de vivre_, long subdued, were again welling up within him. But yesterday she had heard him singing, coming back from his day's unfruitful task. She knew herself to be the cause of that song. It was rather pleasant to reflect upon.

Now she must tell him of the loss of the dog-team, brought about by her impetuosity and disregard for his position as leader of the expedition.

She came upon the cabin and entered it, to find him still away. She took off her snow-covered garments with great difficulty, for her injured arm hurt her at the least movement. She was putting the kettle on the stove when he entered.

"Gee! but I thought we'd done with snow," he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "But I guess this is the last drop."

He shook off his muklucks and flung the bearskin parkha into a corner.

With his usual quick introspection he noticed that something was amiss.

"Anythin' wrong?" he queried.