Northwest! Part 36

XXVII

DEERING'S PROGRESS

Soon after Deering started from the hotel he met Jardine. Deering knew the shrewd Canadian Scots and thought the rancher a man to trust.

Moreover he had not yet got all the light he wanted. Jardine was on foot and Deering said, "h.e.l.lo! It's a long hike to Kelshope. Where's your horse?"

"Margaret's got the cayuse at Green Lake. D'ye no' ken?"

"I didn't know," said Deering. "But you're coming from the station. When do they expect the construction train?"

"She stopped doon the track for the boys to fix some rails. The operator was grumbling because she'd no' get through till dark and he'd got to block the line for the Kamloops freight."

"Oh, well," said Deering, "since I want to get on board the calaboose, perhaps her stopping in the dark is not a drawback. But what about Miss Margaret's going to Green Lake?"

Jardine looked at him rather hard. "I alloo ye're Mr. Leyland's friend?"

"Sure thing!" said Deering. "Jimmy reckons you his friend. Well, I want to know how he got away."

Jardine told him and Deering pondered. He had undertaken an awkward job, and since he saw some obstacles, he resolved to give the rancher his confidence. Among the trees the frost was not keen and the sun was on the road. Deering indicated a spruce log and pulled out some cigars.

"Suppose we take a smoke and talk," he said, and when Jardine lighted a cigar resumed: "Won't Miss Margaret's shooting the fellow's horse make trouble for her?"

"I reckon not," said Jardine, who had heard the trooper's statement, and when he got a note from Margaret remarked that the narratives did not agree. "I'm thinking the boys dinna mean to pit it on Margaret and the trooper's no' altogether prood."

"It's possible. But why didn't _you_ put Jimmy wise?"

"I'd cut my foot chopping, a day or two before."

Deering rather doubted if Jardine's cutting his foot accounted for all, but he said, "Let's talk straight! I suppose Miss Margaret is going to marry Leyland?"

"Maybe, but I dinna ken. Jimmy wanted to marry her."

"Very well," said Deering. "I'll tell you all I know."

He narrated his interview with Laura and Stannard's going to Jimmy's help. Jardine's look got thoughtful and sometimes he frowned. When Deering stopped he said, "Ye dinna trust Stannard! Ye'd sooner Jimmy hadna gone across the rocks wi' him?"

"I would sooner he had not," Deering agreed. "Jimmy trusts Stannard, the others are tenderfoots, and I understand they have not a first-cla.s.s guide."

"The man they've got is no' a mountain guide ava; Gillane's a packer on the Government surveys. But I dinna see much light yet. Jimmy owes Stannard a guid sum."

"Leyland insured his life in Stannard's favor and Stannard wants money.

Well, I'm going up the line with the construction gang to follow the party's trail."

Jardine got up and his look was very grim. "Just that! I'll join ye."

"Not at all," said Deering. "Your part's to go to Green River depot afterwards and watch out. I expect you're a good bushman, but this is a job for a first-cla.s.s mountaineer. Besides, you cut your foot!"

Jardine gave him a keen glance, but Deering resumed. "You see, I must hit up the pace and can't boost you along. Can I hire a young man, a prospector if possible, at Green River?"

The other's arguments did not move him and by and by Jardine resigned himself to stay behind.

"I'm thinking my nephew, Peter, is the man ye want. Whiles he goes to the depot for his groceries and mail. The storekeeper will ken if he's aboot. Ye can tell Peter I sent ye to him."

After a few minutes Deering went off, but he went slowly and did not keep the road to the station. Joining the line two or three miles down the valley, he found a track-grader's tool hut and went in and smoked.

The hut was cold, but Deering's fur coat was thick and good. When dusk began to fall he walked along the track and stopped three or four hundred yards from the station.

By and by a light twinkled like a star in the gloom of the woods. A steady throb rolled up the valley, and presently Deering distinguished a locomotive's measured snorts and the rumble of wheels. The star was now a dazzling moon, and its reflections picked out, far in advance, glittering rails and frost-spangled trees. When the locomotive was level with Deering he began to run up the line, and soon after the train stopped he got behind the last car.

He knew the company's rules, but he knew something about train-gangs, and he had ready a few dollar bills. Although the station agent did not see him get on board, when the train rolled up the track he occupied a box in front of the calaboose stove. The men gave him supper, and when he had drained a can of strong coffee he pulled out some cards and showed how an expert puzzled his antagonists.

Cold draughts swept the rocking calaboose, the stove roared, and one smelt locomotive smoke. Labored snorts echoed in the rocks, couplings rang, and when the train sped across a bridge the roll of wheels drowned Deering's voice. Deering smiled and waited for the noise to stop. He had undertaken a daunting job and was bothered about Jimmy, but in the meantime he owed something to his hosts and he played up. Although Deering had some drawbacks, his rule was to play up.

A number of the men had long studied cards and could bluff on a poor hand. Three or four won regularly some part of their companions' wages, but they knew a master's touch and for a time Deering held the group.

Then he lighted his pipe and began to talk about something else. He found out that the train ran between a gravel pit and Green River. The men were filling up a trestle and cutting out an awkward curve.

"Have they got a hotel at the settlement?" Deering inquired.

"They've no use for a hotel at Green River. Sometimes a rancher comes in for his mail and a survey party jumps off. I guess that's all. You can stop at the post office. The man who keeps it runs a small store."

"Nothing much doing yet," Deering remarked. "Do the mounted policemen come to the settlement?"

A big shovel-man laughed. "They're getting busy around Green River. Two lots came in not long since and a trooper's there now, but he won't bother you. Looks as if he was sent to watch out for somebody who wanted to _get on_ the train."

"Then, you reckon they're after somebody in the rocks?" said Deering carelessly.

"That's so," another agreed. "I wouldn't bet much on the fellow's chance! When we ran up with the last load, a police outfit was starting for the range. Three or four troopers and a pack-horse. They'd loaded up some truck."

"Oh, well," said Deering. "The Royal North-West are smart boys, but I've known them beat. However, I've been for some time on the road and think I'll go to bed. Can somebody give me a bunk?"

They gave him a bunk, and for an hour or two he slept; he knew it might be long before he slept warm again. When he awoke the locomotive bell was tolling and the roll of wheels was getting slack. The calaboose was very cold, and Deering, jumping from his bunk, went to the open door.

In front a fire burned by a water tank and the beam from the headlamp flickered across a small clearing and touched a wooden house. Farther off, a big blast-lamp threw up a pillar of flame. The light tossed and for a few moments all was shadowy. Then the strong illumination leaped up again, and Deering saw a man who carried a short rifle walk along the line. He knew the Royal North-West uniform.

Deering picked up his fur coat and hesitated. In the mountains one must wear proper clothes and the coat was good, but unless he could cheat the trooper he might not reach the mountains. He touched the man who had given him the bunk.

"I'll trade my coat and cap for yours."

The fellow's skin coat and cap were old, and he looked at Deering with surprise.

"Why do you want to trade? A track-grader doesn't buy Revillon furs."

Deering indicated the trooper. "The policeman might calculate something like that, but I expect he knows you belong to the gang. You are going to dump some rails and for half an hour I want a job."

"Now I get you!" said the other.