The Girl from Keller's Part 33

He paused and smiled. "She got the money you object to in a very curious way--by refusing to indulge the wishes of our only rich relation. I was more compliant because his plans met my views, and he paid for my education, but when he died we found Helen had got her share and mine.

I understand he told his lawyer that he still thought her wrong; but if she thought she was right, she was justified in refusing, and he admired her pluck."

"She has pluck," said Festing. "On the whole I don't think that makes things much better for me. Anyhow, I've taken this contract and I've got to stay with it."

"I'll help you as far as I can," said Dalton, who soon afterwards left the shack.

CHAPTER XX

FESTING GETS TO WORK

Mist rolled among the pines and it was raining hard when Festing led his team down the hill. He wore big rubber boots and slickers, and a heavy log trailed behind the horses through the mud. Some distance above the river the slope was gradual, and it was necessary to haul the logs to the skidway he had built. They would then run down without help; indeed, the difficulty was to stop them when they reached the track. Festing was wet and dirty, and the sweating horses were splashed. When he stopped to unhook the chain, three or four men came up with cant-poles, and struggling in the churned-up mire, rolled the log to the top of the incline.

A shallow, undulating trough scored the hillside, crossed at short intervals by small logs, split up the middle and laid with their round sides on top. It looked something like a switchback railway, only that while the incline varied, all the undulations ran down hill. A few logs rested insecurely on the top skids, and the men put the one Festing had brought below the rest. Then they threw down their poles and Festing looked about.

Water filled the hollows in the wavy line of skids, which vanished at the edge of a steeper dip and reappeared below, to plunge out of sight again. Its end was banked up with wet gravel near the track. Festing could not see the track, but the opposite side of the river was visible, with the island, near which two wire-ropes skimmed the surface of the flood. A man stood on the skids about half way down and presently waved his arm.

"Watch out below!" he shouted and signed to Festing. "All clear! You can start her off."

Festing seized a handspike and the skids groaned as the big log began to move. The men helped and sprang back as it gathered speed. Water flew up, the bark tore off in crumpled flakes, and the wet timber smoked. The other logs were smaller and easier launched, but they did not gain the momentum of the first, which plunged furiously down hill and flung up its thin end as it leaped over the edge of the dip.

"She's surely hitting up the pace," one of the men remarked.

"The mud is greasing the skids," said Festing, who began to run down the incline when the man below shouted.

Two of the others followed, but stopped at the top of the last pitch, which ended in the bank of gravel close above the track. The logs, spread out at intervals, rushed down, rising and falling on the uneven skids. Showers of mud and water marked their progress; there was a crash as a smashed skid was flung into the air, and a roar when the leading ma.s.s plowed through fallen gravel. Stones shot out and Festing saw smoke and sparks, but the logs rushed on, and he wondered anxiously whether the bank would stop them. So far, it had served its purpose, but he was doubtful about it now, and hoped there was n.o.body on the track beneath.

The big log reached the bank and ran half way up the short incline before its speed slackened much. Festing held his breath as he watched, for some gravel cars had come down the track, and he could not tell where they were. The log was going slower, but he doubted if it would stop.

It plowed on through the gravel, which shot up all round, and then the end of the bank seemed to fall away. There was a shower of stones; the b.u.t.t of the log went down and its after end tilted up. Then it lurched out of sight and there was a heavy crash below. After this Festing heard a confused din, and imagined, though he could not see, the ma.s.s of timber plunging down the precipitous slope, smashing rocks and scattering gravel as it went. The noise stopped, he heard a splash, and as the following logs leaped the broken bank, the first shot half its length out of water, and falling again, drove down stream.

The rope at the island caught it while a trolley ran down, but the straining wire curved and parted, and the trolley fell into the river as the log swept on. The others followed and vanished in a turmoil of muddy foam, and Festing went down to the track. Things might have been worse, for n.o.body was hurt, although some yards of road-bed had been carried away and a derrick he had built to put the logs on the cars was smashed.

As he studied the damage a wet and angry engineer ran up.

"You have got to stop your blamed logs jumping down like that! They've broken a steel rope and there's a new trolley-skip in the river!"

"I'm sorry," Festing answered. "I'll try to get the skip out as soon as possible, and you can trust me to stop more logs getting away, for my own sake."

"There'll be trouble if you let your lumber loose on me, and I want the skip soon," said the other. "A stranger asked for you a few minutes ago and I sent him up the hill."

He went away and Festing's men came up.

"Pretty rough luck, boss!" one remarked. "What are we going to do about it?"

"We'll grade up the gravel dump to begin with, and then make a new derrick," Festing answered gloomily. "It doesn't look as if I'd get much profit on the first week's work."

He moved off, and as he scrambled up the bank met a man coming down.

Both stopped abruptly and Festing frowned.

"What in thunder has brought you, Bob?" he asked.

"They told me you were up the hill," Charnock said, smiling. "I came in on the last construction train."

"But why did you come?"

"I suppose you mean--Why did I come to bother you again? Well, the explanation will take some time, and it's confoundedly muddy and raining hard. When are you likely to be unoccupied?"

Festing tried to control his annoyance. The accident had disturbed him and he was not pleased to see Charnock, whom he did not wish to make free of his shack.

"What have you been doing since you arrived?" he asked.

"Sitting in the bunk-house and waiting for the rain to stop. Then I got dinner with the boys, and afterwards went to see a rather nice young fellow called Dalton. I told him I was a friend of yours, and he half promised to give me a job."

"You don't seem to know who he is?" Festing remarked.

"I don't; but I thought he looked hard at me when he heard my name.

However, don't disturb yourself on my account; I'm pretty comfortable in the bunk-house."

"Very well. You had better come to my shack when work stops. I can't leave my men now."

Charnock strolled off with his usual languid air, and Festing resumed his work. He could not imagine what Charnock wanted, but wished he had stopped away. In the meantime, he had much to do and drove his men hard, until a steam-whistle hooted and they threw down their tools. His supper was ready when he reached the shack, but Charnock had not arrived, and although this was something of a relief, he felt annoyed. He had told him to come when work stopped, but the fellow was never punctual. An hour later Charnock walked in.

"I thought I'd better wait until after supper," he said. "My coming now leaves you more at liberty to turn me out."

"To begin with, I'd like to know why you came at all?"

"Sadie thought it was time I did something useful, and I agreed. It's obvious that if anything useful can be done, I'm the proper person to undertake the job. Now you understand me, shall I go on?"

Festing nodded. Charnock's careless good humor had vanished; he looked embarra.s.sed but resolute, as if he meant to carry out a disagreeable task. This was something new for Bob.

"Very well," the latter resumed. "In order to clear the ground, do you imagine I'm in love with your wife?"

"I'm sure Helen is not in love with you," Festing rejoined.

"That's much, but we have got to talk about the other side of the matter," said Charnock quietly. "I went to your home with Sadie because I thought she and Helen could learn something from each other; while I suspect she thought your society was good for me. It's obvious that Helen agreed, and Sadie and I will always be grateful for her staunchness in sticking to us, although you disliked it. Whether I'm worth the quarrel or not is another thing. I hope you understand me as far as I've gone."

Festing made a sign and Charnock continued: "Very well. There was a time when I loved Helen, or honestly thought I did, but I imagine we had both found out our mistake when I gave her up. It's certain that she would not have been satisfied with me. Our romance came to nothing and was done with long since; there's now no woman who could rouse the feeling I have for my wife."

He got up and leaned upon his chair, with his eyes fixed on Festing.

"When I told you I was going to be married, you showed your confounded supercilious pity! You thought I was making a fatal mistake. Well, you're not a clever fellow, Stephen, but that was the worst blunder you ever made. Marrying Sadie is perhaps the only wise thing I have done.

She has borne with my follies, hustled me when I needed it, and helped me to fight my weaknesses; and if there's any hope of my being a useful man, I owe it to her. Now it's obvious that I can't draw comparisons, but I think you see where this leads."

"I do see," said Festing, who felt somewhat moved. He had not heard Charnock talk like this before, and the note in his voice was significant. He smiled, to ease the strain, as he replied: "Comparisons would be particularly awkward just now, Bob. Besides, they're unnecessary, I'm convinced!"

"Then there's no reason you shouldn't go home, and I've come to take you back."

Festing shook his head. "There are two reasons. In the first place, I've taken a contract."