The Fur Bringers Part 17

"Tie your horse and come down," said Ambrose politely. He welcomed the diversion. This man must have come from the fort. Perhaps he had news.

Face to face with the stranger, Ambrose was sensible that he had to deal with an uncommon character. There was something about him, he could not decide what, that distinguished him from every other man of Indian blood that Ambrose had ever met.

He wore a well-fitting suit of blue serge and a show of starched linen, in itself a distinguishing mark up north. "Quite a swell!" was Ambrose's inward comment.

"You are Ambrose Doane, I suppose?" he said in English as good as Ambrose's own. Ambrose nodded.

"I knew you had dinner with Mr. Gaviller last night," the man went on, "but as you didn't drop in on us at the store to-day I supposed you had gone back. I didn't expect to find you here."

He was fluent for one of his color--too fluent the other man felt.

Ambrose was sizing him up with interest.

It finally came to him what the man's distinguishing quality was. It was his open look, an expression almost of benignity, absolutely foreign to the Indian character. Indians may give their eyes freely to one another, but a white man never sees beneath the gla.s.sy surface.

This Indian in look and manner resembled an English country gentleman, much sunburnt; or one of those university-bred East Indian potentates who affect motor-cars and polo ponies. Oddly enough his candid look affronted Ambrose. "It isn't natural," he told himself.

"I am Gordon Strange, bookkeeper at Fort Enterprise," the stranger volunteered.

The bookkeeper of a big trading-post is always second in command.

Ambrose understood that he was in the presence of a person of consideration in the country.

"Sit down," he said. "Fill up your pipe."

Strange obeyed. "We're supposed to be red-hot rivals in business," he said with an agreeable laugh. "But that needn't prevent, eh? Funny I should stumble on you like this! I ride every night after supper--a man needs a bit of exercise after working all day in the store. I saw the light of your fire."

He was too anxious to have it understood that the meeting was accidental. Ambrose began to suspect that he had ridden out on purpose to see him.

The better men among the natives, such as Tole Grampierre, have a pride of their own; but they never presume to the same footing as the white men. Strange, however, talked as one gentleman to another.

There was nothing blatant in it; he had a well-bred man's care for the prejudices of another. Nevertheless, as they talked on Ambrose began to feel a curious repugnance to his visitor, that made him wary of his own speech.

"Too d.a.m.n gentlemanly!" he said to himself.

"Why didn't you come in to see us to-day?" inquired Strange. "We don't expect a traveler to give us the go-by."

"Well," said Ambrose dryly, "I had an idea that my room would be preferred to my company."

"Nonsense!" said Strange, laughing. "We don't carry our business war as far as that. Why, we want to show you free-traders what a fine place we have, so we can crow over you a little. Anyway, you dined with Mr. Gaviller, didn't you?"

"John Gaviller would never let himself off any of the duties of hospitality," said Ambrose cautiously.

He was wondering how far Strange might be admitted to Gaviller's confidence. That he was being drawn out, Ambrose had no doubt at all, but he did not know just to what end.

Strange launched into extensive praises of John Gaviller. "I ought to know," he said in conclusion. "I've worked for him twenty-nine years.

He taught me all I know. He's been a second father to me."

Ambrose felt as an honest man hearing an unnecessary and fulsome panegyric must feel, slightly nauseated. He said nothing.

Strange was quick to perceive the absence of enthusiasm. He laughed agreeably. "I suppose I can hardly expect you to chime in with me," he said. "The old man is death on free-traders!"

"I have nothing against him," said Ambrose quickly.

"Of course I don't always agree with him on matters of policy," Strange went on. "Curious, isn't it, how a man's ruling characteristic begins to get the better of him as he grows old.

"Mr. Gaviller is always just--but, well, a leetle hard. He's pushing the people a little too far lately. I tell him so to his face--I oppose him all I can. But of course he's the boss."

Ambrose began to feel an obscure and discomforting indignation at his visitor. He wished he would go.

"You really must see our plant before you go back," said Strange; "the model farm, the dairy herd, the flourmill, the sawmill. Will you come up to-morrow and let me take you about?"

His glibness had the effect of rendering Ambrose monosyllabic. "No,"

he said.

"Oh, I say," said Strange, laughing, "what did you come to Fort Enterprise for if you feel that way about us?"

Under his careless air Ambrose thought he distinguished a certain eagerness to hear the answer. So he said nothing.

"I'm afraid you and the old gentleman must have had words," Strange went on, still smiling. "Take it from me, his bark is worse than his bite. If he broke out at you, he's sorry for it now. It takes half my time to fix up his little differences with the people here."

He paused to give the other an opportunity to speak. Ambrose remained mum.

"The old man certainly has a rough side to his tongue," murmured Strange insinuatingly.

"You're jumping to conclusions," said Ambrose coolly. "John Gaviller gave me no cause for offense. I was well entertained at his house."

"U-m!" said Strange. He seemed rather at a loss. Presently he went on to tell in a careless voice of the coyote hunts they had. Afterward he casually inquired how long Ambrose meant to stay in the neighborhood.

"I don't know," was the blunt answer.

"Well, really!" said Strange with his laugh--the sound of it was becoming highly exasperating to Ambrose. "I don't want to pry into your affairs, but you must admit it looks queer for you to be camping here on the edge of the company reservation without ever coming in."

Ambrose was wroth with himself for not playing a better part, but the man affected him with such repugnance he could not bring himself to dissimulate, "Sorry," he said stiffly. "You'll have to make what you can of it."

Strange got up. His candid air now had a touch of manly pride. "Oh, I can take a hint!" he said. "Hanged if I know what you've got against me!"

"Nothing whatever," said Ambrose.

"I come to you in all friendliness--"

"Thought you said you stumbled on me," interrupted Ambrose.

"I mean of course when I saw you here I came in friendliness," Strange explained with dignity.

"Well, go in friendliness, and no harm done on either side," said Ambrose coolly.

For a brief instant Strange lost his benignant air. "I've lived north all my life," he said. "And I never met with the like. We have different ideas about hospitality."

"Very likely," said Ambrose coolly. "Good night!"