The Bail Jumper Part 6

It was mid-day when they wound down the steep banks of the Poplar river to the broad, elm-studded parkland below. Burton swung the team to the left, and they plunged into the recesses of the forest along an old and little used trail, which presently brought them to the edge of the water. Here they unhitched and Burton tied the horses where they could find a little gra.s.s, while Miss Vane spread the contents of the lunch basket on a rug beside the water. The long drive in the bright morning sunshine had whetted their appet.i.tes, but no sauce of hunger was necessary to give flavour to Mrs. Grant's chicken sandwiches and currant jelly, with a thermos bottle of hot coffee. After the luncheon they gathered up the fragments, and climbing gingerly down to the stones which studded the shallow water, washed their hands in the stream that rippled by their feet. Then they picked their way across the river on the stones, for the water was low, and found a path leading through enchanted corridors fenced with great elms, and so they delved into the fastness of the wood. Finally, tired with their explorations, they recrossed the stream, startling a lazy fish that lay, head against the current, in the shelter of a stone, and found a great flat rock that overlooked the water. Here they sat, gazing down into its silvery depths, while the ripple of the running water caricatured their reflections. The faces below them were one moment long and sober, the next broad and merry, and then, by a little freak of the current, suddenly blended into one.

Both laughed. "The water is teasing," said Miss Vane.

Burton sat in a great happiness of body and soul.

Aloud he repeated in a gentle undertone,

"And here and there a foamy flake, Upon me as I travel; With many a silvery waterbreak, Above the golden gravel.

"I steal by lawns and gra.s.sy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers."

He stopped short, half ashamed; the poet had tricked him into a word he had not meant to use.

The hours fled faster than they knew, and it was not until the setting sun burst in great golden bars between the trunks of the stately elms that they realized it was growing late.

"We must go," said Miss Vane. "'Twill be dark before we can reach home.

And yet I am loath to leave a scene of so much happiness."

"The day will be a mile-post in my memory," said Raymond. "It has been to me a season of delight. But how could it be otherwise with such companionship?"

It was his first attempt at a compliment.

"Please do not speak to me in that way," said Miss Vane, and there was a ring, not so much of anger as of pain, in her voice.

Burton was crushed. He had understood that compliments were always acceptable to a woman.

"Listen," she continued, with a sudden deep kindliness in her voice, "I would not have you misunderstand me. My environment has, all my life, been very different from yours. I was brought up in the city, in an atmosphere of refinement and, if not luxury, at least moderate wealth.

My a.s.sociations were among what were called the best circles in the city. I met many men, handsome, wealthy, clever men, and I will not pretend that I did not know their att.i.tude toward me. But I found that these men, although they could discuss affairs of government, of finance, of literature and art, in the frankest manner among themselves, could not address to me the commonest remark without wrapping it in a compliment. To a man they would speak as an equal, a rational being, but a woman must be flattered and cajoled. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, which I do not believe; but still more foolish is the idea, held by most men, that the way to a woman's heart is through her vanity. Whoever adopts such an att.i.tude toward a woman, every compliment from his lips is an insult. We women may be frail, and foolish, and unreasonable, but surely, surely we deserve the truth. And this morning, when I said I loved the country, it was, most of all, for its sincerity. I have sometimes thought I could, perhaps, love a man, if I found one who was not a liar."

The hard word came out with a crash; the wonderful, electric mouth closed in a firmness that might have led men to battle, the deep eyes lit up with a blaze that was not from the setting sun.

Burton mumbled an apology. "But I meant what I said, Miss Vane!"

She looked fairly in his eyes.

"I believe you," she said, simply.

It was late when Burton reached town. It was Sunday night, and the business section was in darkness. Miss Vane had given him some letters to post and, as he pa.s.sed the store, it occurred to him to go in and get the necessary stamps, which would save him a special trip to the post-office in the morning. The firm's supply of stamps was kept in the cash drawer in the safe, and Burton, having his keys with him, entered.

Striking a match he groped his way to the little office at the back of the store where, by the light of more matches, he opened the combination, known to only himself and Gardiner, and took out the necessary stamps, which he would replace from his own in the morning.

Then he locked the safe and, seeing an unfinished book lying above it, slipped it under his arm and left the store. The door fastened with a spring lock, although a key was necessary to open it; he drew it to, and as he did so he fancied he heard a footstep. The thought gave him no uneasiness and he started blithely down the street, still revelling in the delights of the happiest day his life had known. The little lecture he had received from Miss Vane had only the effect of deepening his attachment for her, and he was beginning to think, or at least to hope, that she returned some measure of his regard. He properly concluded that she would not have spoken so frankly to one in whom she felt no interest.

Suddenly a dark object flew by his face, and a moment later a beer bottle crashed in a thousand pieces on the brick wall at his side.

Burton turned quickly, but the streets were in darkness; he could see nothing. He ran in the direction from which the missile appeared to have been thrown, but his search was fruitless. As he continued his walk home he turned the strange occurrence over in his mind; it seemed unreal, like a bad dream. He began to doubt whether it had actually occurred, or was it some insane freak of imagination? He resolved to say nothing of the incident; it might have been accidental, which seemed incredible, or the attack might have been meant for someone else, which was much more likely. But if it were possible that he had secret enemies, he would prepare himself to deal with future emergencies. If his a.s.sailant were a man he would meet him as a man, with the weapons his Creator gave him; but if a sneak and an a.s.sa.s.sin he must take other measures. He would buy a revolver in the morning.

CHAPTER V-UNDER SUSPICION

"'Thou shalt not steal,' the Law declares, and the sinner must pay the price, For the world abhors the petty thief who falls to the common vice, But the rich and the good and the powerful may steal-if they do it well- And the world sends them to heaven, but it sends the poor-to h.e.l.l!"

_The Empire Builders._

The absence of Miss Vane from church on the Sunday reported in our last chapter was noted by every member of the congregation. None of the Grants were in, which deepened the mystery, and although he might have telephoned the Grant homestead and learned the cause of her absence, it occurred to Gardiner that his horse needed exercise, and he drove out early in the afternoon to investigate the situation for himself. He trusted that Miss Vane was not ill, and he antic.i.p.ated with some pleasure an invitation to remain to tea. As a matter of fact the invitation was given, but Gardiner did not remain. The discovery that Miss Vane had gone to spend the day, the whole day, with Burton in the woods, and alone; that she had ignored her official position in the choir to do so, and, most of all, that she had given him no hint or inkling of her intention, was, to say the least, disconcerting. He had been surprised to find her walking with his clerk on the country road, and after dark, but the explanation he had afterwards learned had quieted his mind on that score, and he felt that his suit, although as yet he had not announced it as such, was progressing favourably. It seemed preposterous that he and his clerk should be rivals for the affection of the same woman, but still more amazing that the clerk's rivalry should be encouraged. Burton was but a boy, only twenty-one, with no experience of life save what he had learned on his father's farm, and without means of support except the twelve dollars a week he drew from his employer. It was true that Burton was one of those quiet, thoughtful fellows who are seldom sought by ladies for flirtations, but are always in demand as husbands; it was true that Burton's book learning far exceeded his own, that the young man read poetry while he might be playing pool, and could quote the masters by the page, but that was a sign of weakness rather than strength. But as for Gardiner, he reflected with some satisfaction that he too was still a young man, just thirty-two, and therefore a much more desirable age for the consideration of Miss Vane, who could not be less than twenty-three; he had an established business and an ample income, judged by the standards of a country town; he was in appearance not the inferior of Burton, and he fancied that his popularity among his acquaintances was at least as great. After all, Burton was nothing but what he had made him; he had opened up this life before the young man, and he could also close it; on a week's notice even the slender support of twelve dollars could be withdrawn. The thought afforded a ray of pleasure, but it was for the moment only; his own good sense told him that from a business point of view he could not afford to do without his clerk, whom he considered better than many much higher-paid salesmen; moreover, he had little doubt that a rival firm would be very glad to find a position for Burton, probably at an advance of salary.

Taking the question in all its aspects it was one that demanded deep consideration, and Gardiner spent the afternoon by himself.

In addition to the duties of the general store, Gardiner had the business and responsibilities of cashing wheat tickets for one of the grain companies operating elevators in Plainville. This is a branch of trade usually left with the banks, but as these inst.i.tutions at Plainville had seen fit to impose a small charge for their services, the grain firms, in their anxiety to avoid bankruptcy, had arranged with different merchants to do the work gratis. Although Gardiner received no pay directly for his work in this connection, it was considered some advantage to do the business. The company at Winnipeg was notified by wire or mail as money was needed, and the desired currency came promptly by express. When the wheat season was at its height the amount sent was often as high as five thousand dollars at a time, and this comfortable sum frequently happened, about the fourth of the month, to be a G.o.dsend to the merchant who did not have to account for it until the end of the week. Moreover, as farmers had to come into the store to cash their tickets, the merchants knew when they had a considerable sum of money in their possession, and could force sales accordingly; or, if the customer was slow to pay, and already in debt, an excellent opportunity was afforded for collecting the account. Taking these things into consideration Gardiner felt that the benefits derived from cashing wheat tickets were sufficient to justify him in undertaking the responsibility and labour the service entailed.

During the summer deliveries of wheat are usually slow, but farmers frequently over-estimate the amount they will require for seed, and the wealthier ones also make a point of carrying some of their wheat in their granaries until summer to take advantage of the artificial prices which are invariably effected by speculative manipulating after the cereal is supposed to have pa.s.sed out of the hands of the producers. As seeding was now finished deliveries were freshening, and a package of "wheat money" containing two thousand dollars in ten dollar bank bills had been received on Sat.u.r.day evening by express and, the banks being closed, was left in Gardiner's safe over Sunday.

Monday morning, although the unpleasant event of the previous night seemed to Burton more than ever to be an unreal remembrance, he resolved to carry out his intention. He knew that the action was one his father would hardly commend; his father had old-fashioned Ontario ideas about carrying revolvers; but the situation was unusual, and he felt justified in taking such measures as he could for his own protection. Accordingly, on his way to the store he stopped at a hardware, and spent some time selecting a modest weapon which he felt could be depended upon in case of emergency. He pretended to the clerk that he wanted to try his marksmanship on the gophers; secured a box of cartridges, and put the loaded weapon in his pocket.

As he neared Gardiner's store he felt in his pockets for his keys. They were gone! He hesitated a moment, and recalled having used them the night before; then, seeing the door was opened, he entered.

Gardiner was in the office at the back of the store.

"Burton, come here, please," he called. His voice seemed strained and hollow, and as Burton's eyes accustomed themselves to the store's comparative darkness after the bright light outside, he saw that his employer's face was as colourless as death.

"Why, what is the matter? Are you unwell?" cried Burton in alarm.

Gardiner steadied himself against a chair, and after one or two attempts to speak whispered hoa.r.s.ely, "The package is gone."

"Gone!" cried Burton, and would have walked to the safe, but Gardiner stopped him.

"Just a minute," he said, having somewhat recovered his composure; "I want to ask you a question or two."

Burton stopped and faced his employer unflinchingly.

"Have you missed anything this morning?"

"Why, no."

"Think again."

Burton hesitated. "Oh, yes," he said at length, "I did. When I came to the door I couldn't find my keys."

"Do you identify those?" asked Gardiner, holding up a ring having several keys attached.

"They are mine. Where did you get them?"

"_In the safe!_"

"Impossible!"