The Foreigner Part 50

he continued to the agent.

"What's the matter with you?" said the agent. "I didn't see anything. If you trip yourself up and pitch into the corner, that is your own business. Get out of this office, you disorderly beast!

Hurry up!" The agent put his hand upon the counter and leaped over.

Rosenblatt fled, terrified.

"Brute!" said the agent, "I can't stand these claim jumpers.

You did that very neatly," he said to Brown, shaking him warmly by the hand. "I am awfully sorry, but the thing can't be helped now."

Brown was too sick at heart to reply. The mine was gone, and with it all the splendid castles he and Kalman had been building for the last six months. He feared to meet his friend. With what heart now could he ask that this brute, who had added another to the list of the wrongs he had done, should be forgiven? It was beyond all human strength to wipe out from one's mind such an acc.u.mulation of injuries. Well for Brown and well for his friend that forty miles lay before him. For forty miles of open country and of G.o.d's sun and air, to a man whose heart is open to G.o.d, work mighty results.

When at last they came together, both men had won their victory.

Quietly Brown told his story. He was amazed to find that instead of rousing Kalman to an irrepressible fury, it seemed to make but little impression upon him that he had lost his mine. Kalman had faced his issue, and fought out his fight. At all costs he could not deny his Lord, and under this compulsion it was that he had surrendered his blood feud. The fierce l.u.s.t for vengeance which had for centuries run mad in his Slavic blood, had died beneath the stroke of the Cross, and under the shock of that mighty stroke the loss of the mine had little effect upon him. Brown wondered at him.

The whole colony was thrown into a ferment of indignation by the news that Kalman had been robbed of his mine. But the agents of Rosenblatt and Sprink were busy among the people. Feast days were made hilarious through their lavish gifts of beer. Large promises in connection with the development of the mine awakened hopes of wealth in many hearts. After all, what could they hope from a young man without capital, without backing, without experience? True, it was a pity he should lose his mine, but men soon forget the losses and injuries of others under the exhilaration of their own ambitions and dreams of success. Kalman's claims and Kalman's wrongs were soon obliterated. He had been found guilty of the unpardonable crime of failure. The new firm went vigorously to work. Cabins were erected at the mine, a wagon road cut to the Saskatchewan. In three weeks the whole face of the ravine was changed.

It was in the end of April before French returned from his tie camp, with nothing for his three months' toil but battered teams and empty pockets, a worn and ill-favoured body, and with a heart sick with the sense of failure and of self-scorn. Kalman, reading at a glance the whole sordid and heart-breaking story, met him with warm and cheery welcome. It was for French, more than for himself, that he grieved over the loss of the mine. Kalman was busy with his preparations for the spring seeding. He was planning a large crop of everything the ranch would grow, for the coming market.

"And the mine, Kalman?" enquired French.

"I've quit mining. The ranch for me," exclaimed Kalman, with cheerful enthusiasm.

"But what's up?" said French, with a touch of impatience.

"Jack, we have lost the mine," said Kalman quietly.

And he told the story.

As he concluded the tale, French's listlessness vanished.

He was his own man again.

"We will ride down and see Brown," he said with decision.

"No use," said Kalman, wishing to save him further pain. "Brown saw the entry at the Land Office, and the agent plainly told him nothing could be done."

"Well, we won't just lie down yet, boy," said Jack. "Come along--or--well, perhaps I'd better go alone. You saddle my horse."

In half an hour French appeared clean shaven, dressed in his "civilization clothes," and looking his old self again.

"You're fine, Jack," said Kalman in admiration. "We have got each other yet."

"Yes, boy," said Jack, gripping his hand, "and that is the best.

But we'll get the mine, too, or I'm a Dutchman." All the old, easy, lazy air was gone. In every line of his handsome face, in every movement of his body, there showed vigour and determination. The old English fighting spirit was roused, whose tradition it was to s.n.a.t.c.h victory from the jaws of defeat and despair.

Four weeks pa.s.sed before Kalman saw him again. Those four weeks he spent in toil from early dawn till late at night at the oats and the potatoes, working to the limit of their endurance Mackenzie and the small force of Galicians he could secure, for the mine and the railroad offered greater attractions. At length the level black fields lay waiting the wooing of the sun and rain and genial air.

Then Kalman rode down for a day at Wakota, for heart and body were exhausted of their vital forces. He wanted rest, but he wanted more the touch of a friend's hand.

At Wakota, the first sight that caught his eye was French's horse tethered on the gra.s.sy sward before Brown's house, and as he rode up, from within there came to his ear the sound of unusual and hilarious revelry.

"h.e.l.lo there!" yelled Kalman, still sitting his horse. "What's happened to you all?"

The cry brought them all out,--Brown and his wife, French and Irma, with Paulina in the background. They crowded around him with vociferous welcome, Brown leading in a series of wild cheers.

After the cheering was done, Brown rushed for him.

"Congratulations, old boy!" he cried, shaking him by the hand.

"It's all right; we've won, after all! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!"

Brown had clearly gone mad.

Then Irma came running toward him.

"Yes, it's all true, Kalman dear," she cried, pulling down his head to kiss him, her voice breaking in a sob and her eyes radiant with smiles and tears.

"Don't be alarmed, old man," said French, taking him by the hand when Irma had surrendered her place. "They are all quite sane.

We've got it, right enough. We've won out."

Kalman sat still on his horse, looking from one to the other in utter bewilderment. Brown was still yelling at intervals, and wildly waving his hat. At length Kalman turned to Mrs. Brown.

"You seem to be sane, anyway," he said; "perhaps you will tell me what they all mean?"

"It means, Kalman," said the little woman, offering him both hands, "we are so glad that we don't know what to do. We have got back our mine."

"The mine!" gasped Kalman faintly. "Impossible! Why, Brown there--"

"Yes! Brown here," yelled that individual; "I know Brown. He's a corker! But he's sometimes wrong, and this is one of the times.

A mine, and a company! And there's the man that did it! Jack French, to whom I take off my hat! He has just got home, and we have just heard his tale, and--school's out and the band's going to play and the game begin. And get down from your broncho, you graven image!"

Here Brown pulled Kalman headlong from his horse. "And Jack will perform. I have not been mad like this for a thousand years. I have been in Hades for the last month, and now I'm out! I know I am quite mad, but it's fine while it lasts. Now, Jack, the curtain's up. Let the play proceed."

The story was simple enough. Immediately after the discovery of the mine French had arranged with Mr. Robert Menzies that he should make application with the Department of the Interior at Ottawa for the necessary mining rights. The application had been made, but the Department had failed to notify the local agent.

"So," said Jack, "the mine is yours again, Kalman."

"No," said Kalman, "not mine, ours; yours as much as mine, Jack, or not mine at all."

"And the Company!" yelled Brown. "Tell him about the Company.

Let the play proceed."

"Oh," said French, with an air of indifference, "Mr. Menzies has a company all organized and in his pocket, waiting only approval of the owner of the mine."

"And the party will arrive in about three weeks, I think you said, French," remarked Brown, with a tone of elaborate carelessness.

Kalman's face flushed hot. The eyes of both men were upon him.

"Yes, in about three weeks," replied French.

"If it were not that I am const.i.tutionally disinclined to an active life, I should like to join myself," said Brown; "for it will be a most remarkable mining company, if I know anything of the signs."

But Kalman could not speak. He put his arm around Jack's shoulder, saying, "You are a great man, Jack. I might have known better."

"All right, boy," said Jack. "From this time we shall play the man.

Life is too good to lose for nothing. A mine is good, but there are better things than mines."