The Award of Justice Part 20

"I've heard pretty hard stories about Blaisdell," said another, "but I guess he don't make much for himself, for as fast as he fleeces other people, Rivers fleeces him."

There was considerable more talk in the same strain, but after the group had separated, Houston, who had learned the name of the princ.i.p.al speaker, approached him as he was standing alone, and said, in a low tone:

"This is Mr. Hartwell, I believe; my name is Houston. Mr. Hartwell, I heard your remarks a little while ago concerning the North Western Mining Company and its officers. I am one of the clerks of that company, and I wish to know if you are prepared to substantiate the statements you have made here to-night."

"Yes," the man exclaimed with an oath, "I'll substantiate every word I've said here to-night, and I can get you a dozen more that will tell you more about that company than I can."

"Never mind about the others, for the present," replied Houston coolly, "what you have said to-night is likely to come to the ears of the company, and what I want to know is this; would you swear in court to what you have said here?"

"I tell you," said Mr. Hartwell, with another oath, "I'll swear to it ten times over, and if I ever have a chance, I'll down you and your cursed company till you won't know that you ever existed," and then seeming to take Houston as the representative of the entire corporation, he poured upon him a torrent of vituperation and abuse which was very amusing to Houston, who was only thinking of securing a witness for the prosecution, by and by.

"Well, Mr. Hartwell," he said at last, "you seem so anxious to express your feelings, we may give you an opportunity later. For the present, I wish you good evening," and he walked smilingly away.

Mr. Hartwell looked after him in amazement; "By George!" he soliloquized, "but that fellow's a cool duck, anyhow! I couldn't faze him a particle."

The next morning, Houston, in company with Mr. Blaisdell, took the early train for the mines. He could not help contrasting this with his first trip over the same road. Then, he was a stranger, with his entire work before him, uncertain of success in his undertaking; now, his preparatory work was nearly done, and though the most difficult part of his task yet remained, he felt that success was sure. But the contrast which to him seemed, most striking, was in his own feelings, for though conscious of enemies and having no knowledge of the friends ready to a.s.sist him, he yet felt a certain pleasure in returning to the mines, as though returning home; and he realized as never before, that hidden away in the heart of the mountains was the source from which henceforth must flow all his earthly happiness.

Arriving at the office, they found no one there, and Houston immediately began an attack upon the work acc.u.mulated during his absence, while Mr. Blaisdell proceeded to the mills and mines.

On his way he met Haight, and the subject of the unsuccessful mining deal was at once taken up.

"They simply wrote that the property was not what they wanted, and that they had found what they were looking for elsewhere," said Mr.

Blaisdell in explanation.

"They seemed well enough satisfied when they were here," remarked Haight.

"That was my impression," said Mr. Blaisdell, "but Rivers seems to think differently. He says he was suspicious of them all the time, because they said nothing one way or another, after seeing the property; but my impression was that they were very well pleased."

"Certainly," answered Haight, who always made it a practice to have his opinions coincide with those expressed by the person with whom he happened to be talking, especially if it were for his interest to do so; "everything seemed satisfactory as far as I could judge. It is my opinion, Mr. Blaisdell, and has been for some time, that something must have been said by some one to prejudice those people against the mine; that is the only way I could account for the deal falling through as it did."

"But who was there to say anything prejudicial? We were all interested in selling the mine."

"I don't care to call any names, Mr. Blaisdell, but I don't think it best to take people into our confidence till we are pretty sure of them."

"Oh, you allude to Mr. Houston, but you are mistaken there; why, Haight, that fellow is working for our interests, and he has saved the company considerable money already in the way he has straightened the books and detected crooked work; he's going to be invaluable."

"He'll work for our interests just as long as it is for his interest to do so, but I imagine anybody could buy him off pretty easy. He's one of your swells; see how he dresses and what hightoned notions he has for a man in his position, and then tell me he wouldn't take a little tip on the outside if he got a chance."

"I think you are mistaken," said Mr. Blaisdell slowly, "still, of course, there might be something in what you say; I'll think it over,"

and the subject was dropped for that day.

Houston was very busy until nearly noon, but left the office a little earlier than usual, as he was anxious to meet Miss Gladden a few moments in advance of the others, if possible.

She was outside the porch, training some vines which she and Lyle had transplanted from among the rocks by the lake. Her back was toward the road, but hearing Houston's step, as he approached the house, she quickly turned, and in the depths of her luminous eyes he read a welcome that made his return seem more than ever like a home-coming.

Clasping warmly the shapely little hand extended to him in greeting, he drew it within his arm, and having led her to a comfortable seat within the porch, he drew his own chair close beside her, where he could watch the lovely face, so cla.s.sic and perfect in its beauty, and clothed, when animated, with a subtle, spirituelle radiance.

"You are very welcome," said Miss Gladden, as he seated himself, "we will all have to celebrate your return, for we have missed you very much. Have you been well?"

"Very well," replied Houston, smiling, "except for a touch of homesickness occasionally when I remembered our evenings among the mountains, or on the lake. It was fortunate that my evenings were so crowded with work, or the malady might have proved quite serious."

"Our evenings have not been nearly so pleasant without you," said Miss Gladden, "we were all becoming frightfully dull and vapid, but I think we will now recover our spirits."

"I have learned one thing," said Houston, "that it is not any particular place or surroundings that const.i.tutes home for us, so much as the presence of those who are dear to us. Imagine how it would have seemed to me, three months ago, to have called this place 'home,' but it seems wonderfully home-like to me to-day."

"As to what const.i.tutes a home, I am scarcely qualified to judge,"

said Miss Gladden, "for I hardly know what a home is; but my idea is, that any spot where my best loved ones were, would be home to me."

"And with such sentiments as those," Houston responded, "you would make any spot on earth home to those whom you loved."

"I should hope to," she replied, and added archly, "and if they loved me, I think I would succeed."

"I fear," said Houston, smiling, "that we are very old fashioned and far behind the spirit of modern times, which considers love of small account in the elements that const.i.tute a home."

"I consider it an indispensable element, nevertheless," she replied, earnestly, "for I have seen too much of so-called homes where it did not exist, and they were not even successful imitations of the genuine article; their hollowness and wretchedness were only too apparent."

She paused a moment, then continued:

"To me, the home seems like one of the old-time temples; a place to be kept sacred to peace and purity and love; from which the sin and strife of the outside world should be faithfully excluded; whose inmates, on entering, should leave behind all traces of the evil and discord of the outer world, as the Oriental leaves his dust-laden sandals at the door of his sanctuary."

"I have never known any other than such a home as that," said Houston, slowly, "and it is the only true home."

"Pardon me," said Miss Gladden, "but are your parents living? I have often wondered."

"No," he replied, "my parents died when I was a mere child, but the faint recollection of my early home, and the memory of my uncle's home, which has been mine also, correspond very closely with the picture you have just drawn."

"Then with you it is a reality," she answered, "but with me, only an ideal."

"Miss Gladden," said Houston very earnestly, but with great tenderness, "will you not let me help you to make a reality of your ideal?" Then, as she did not immediately reply, he continued, "The love that we believe in as the foundation of a true home, is not lacking on my part. I love you, Leslie, so much that life with you anywhere would seem perfect and complete, while life without you, even in a palace, would not seem worth the living. Can you love me enough to share my life and home, whatever it may be, as my wife?"

He had taken her hand, and she did not withdraw it, but looking in his face, she asked:

"Would you make me your wife, knowing so little of me as you do?"

"I think I know enough," he replied, "I know that you are a pure, true-hearted woman; I know that whether you love me or not," her eyes dropped, "there is no one you love better than me; and though I do not know it, I am almost sure that you do care for me in some degree, am I not right?"

She looked up into the face bending over her, and Houston read his answer in her eyes, and even had she tried to speak, he gave her no opportunity for doing so.

"To think of your conceit!" exclaimed Miss Gladden, a few moments later, "in having the a.s.surance to say that I cared for no one more than you, whether I loved you or not; how did you ever come to make such an a.s.sertion?"

"Your eyes betrayed you," he answered, while she blushed, "they often tell tales, but I have noticed they always tell the truth, and I knew they would never have told me some secrets that they have, if there was any one else you cared for."

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their conversation, and brought them back to the common, every-day affairs of life, and turning, they saw Rutherford coming up the path from the lake, where he had gone for a stroll.

"h.e.l.lo, Houston!" exclaimed the latter, catching a glimpse of his friend, "when did you come? Well, I'm awfully glad you've got back, we've missed you, old fellow, I can tell you."

"Welcome home!" said a sweet voice, and Houston saw the starry eyes and golden crowned head of Lyle framed in the door-way, and hastened to greet her. She met him with a woman's grace, and with a child's affection looking frankly out of her lovely eyes. After his brief absence, Houston was impressed by her beauty as never before. "I didn't know the child was so beautiful," he thought to himself, "I believe she grows lovelier every day, and she reminds me strangely of some one I have seen long ago."

"Oh, by the way," said Rutherford, as the friends seated themselves around the dinner table, "I've just received a letter from my brother, and he says he is coming out here."