The Hound From The North Part 14

"What do you mean?"

"I have just remembered something. I came across a--stranger the other day. He was wrapped in furs, and I could only see his eyes. But those eyes were distinctly familiar--'cow'-eyes, I think you said. I was struck with their appearance at the time, but couldn't just realize where I had seen eyes like 'em before." Then he went on reflectively: "But no, it couldn't have been he. Ah----" He broke off and glanced in the direction of the window as the jangle of sleigh-bells sounded outside. "Here's our cutter. Come on."

Robb rose from his seat and brushed the crumbs from his trousers.

There came the sound of voices from the other side of the door.

"Some of the boys," said Robb, with a meaning smile. "It's early for 'em."

"I believe this is your doing," said Grey sulkily.

Robb nodded in the direction of the window. "You've got a team. This is no 'one-horsed' affair."

The door opened suddenly and two men entered.

"Oh, here he is," said one, Charlie Trellis, the postmaster, with a laugh. "Congratulate you, Grey, my friend. Double harness, eh? Tame you down, my boy. Good thing, marriage--for taming a man."

"You're not looking your best," said the other, Jack Broad, the telegraph operator. "Why, man, you look as though you were going to your own funeral. Buck up! Come and have a 'Collins'; brace you up for the ordeal."

"Go to the devil, both of you," said Grey ungraciously. "I don't swill eye-openers all day like you, Jack Broad. Got something else to do."

"So it seems. But cheer up, man," replied Broad imperturbably, "it's not as bad as having a tooth drawn."

"Nor half as unpleasant as a funeral," put in Trellis, with a grin.

Grey turned to Robb.

"Come on," he said abruptly. "Let's get. I shall say things in a minute if I stay here."

"That 'ud be something new for you," called out Broad, as the two men left the room.

The door closed on his remark and he turned to his companion.

"I'm sorry for the poor girl," he went on. "The most can-tankerous pig I ever ran up against--is Grey."

"Yes," agreed the other; "I can't think how a decent fellow like Robb Chillingwood can chum up with him. He's a surly clown--only fit for such countries as the Yukon, where he comes from. He's not particularly clever either. Yes," turning to the waitress, "the usual. How would you like to be the bride?"

The girl shook her head.

"No, thanks. I like candy."

"Ah, not vinegar."

"Nor--nor--pigs."

Broad turned to the grey-headed postmaster with a loud guffaw.

"She seems to have sized Grey up pretty slick."

Outside in the hall the two men donned their furs and over-shoes.

Fortunately for Grey's peace of mind there was no one else about. The bar-tender was sweeping the office out, but he did not pause in his work. Outside the front door the livery-stable man was holding the horses. Grey took his seat to drive, and wrapped the robes well about him. It was a bitterly cold morning. Robb was just about to climb in beside him when a ginger-headed man clad in a pea-jacket came running from the direction of the Town Hall. He waved one arm vigorously, clutching in his hand a piece of paper. Robb saw him first.

"Something for me, as sure as a gun. Hold on, Grey," he said. "It's Sutton, the sheriff. I wonder what's up?"

The ginger-headed man came up breathlessly.

"Thought I was going to miss you, Chillingwood. A message from the Mayor. 'Doc' Ridley sends word that the United States marshal has got that horse-thief, Le Mar, over the other side. You'll have to make out the papers for bringing him over. I've got to go and fetch him at once."

"But, hang it, man, I can't do them now," exclaimed Robb.

"He's on leave of absence," put in Grey.

"Can't be helped. I'm sorry," said the sheriff.

"It's business, you know. Besides, it won't take you more than an hour. I must get across to Verdon before noon or it'll be too late to get the papers 'backed' there. Come on, man; you can get another cutter and follow Grey up in an hour. You won't lose much time."

"Yes, and who's going to pay the damage?" said Robb, relinquishing his hold on the cutter's rail.

The sheriff shrugged his shoulders.

"You'll have to stay," he said conclusively.

"I suppose so. Grey, I'm sorry."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," replied Grey coldly. "It's not your fault.

Well, good-bye. Don't bother to follow me up."

"d.a.m.n!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the good-hearted Robb, as the cutter moved away.

"Going to get married, ain't he?" said the sheriff shortly, as Grey departed.

"Yes." And the two men walked off in the direction of Chillingwood's office.

And Grey drove off to his wedding alone. He was denied even the support of the only man who, out of sheer good-heartedness, would have accompanied him. The life of a man is more surely influenced by the peculiarities of his own disposition than anything else. When a man takes to himself a wife, it is naturally a time for the well-wishes of his friends. This man set out alone. Not one G.o.d-speed went with him.

And yet he was not disturbed by the lack of sympathy. He looked at life from an uncommon standpoint, measuring its scope for the attainment of happiness by his own capacity for doing, not by any a.s.sociation with his kind. He was one of those men who need no friendship from his fellows, preferring rather to be without it. Thus he considered he was freer to follow his own methods of life. Position was his goal--position in the walk of life he had chosen. Could he not attain this solely by his own exertions, then he would do without it.

The crisp, morning air smote his cheeks with the sting of a whip-lash as he drove down the bush-lined trail which led from the Rodney House to the railway depot. It was necessary for him to cross the track at this point before he would find himself upon the prairie road to the Leonville school-house, at which place the ceremony was to be performed. The "gush" of the horses' nostrils sounded refreshingly in his ears as the animals fairly danced over the smooth, icy trail. The sleigh-bells jangled with a confused clashing of sounds in response to the gait of the eager beasts. But Grey thought little of these things.

He thought little of anything just now but his intended despoiling of the owner of Lonely Ranch. All other matters were quite subsidiary to his one chief object.

Once out in the open, the horses settled down into their long-distance stride. Here the trail was not so good as in the precincts of the village. The snow was deeper and softer. Now and then the horses'

hoofs would break through the frozen crust and sink well above the fetlocks into the under-snow.

Now the thick bush, which surrounded the village, gave place to a spa.r.s.er covering of scattered bluffs, and the grey-white aspect of the country became apparent. The trail was well marked as far as the eye could reach--two great furrows ploughed by the pa.s.sage of horses and the runners of the farmers' heavy "double-bobs." Besides this, the colour was different. There was a strong suggestion of earthiness about the trail which was not to be observed upon the rolling snow-fields of the surrounding prairie.

The air was still though keen, and the morning sun had already risen well above the mist of grey clouds which still hovered above the eastern horizon. There was a striking solemnity over all. It was the morning promise of a fair day, and soon the dazzling sunshine upon the snow would become blinding to eyes unused to the winter prairie.

But Grey was no tenderfoot. Such things had no terrors for him. His half-closed eyes faced the glare of light defiantly. It is only the inexperienced who gaze across the snow-bound earth, at such a time, with wide-open eyes.

The bluffs became scarcer as mile after mile was covered by the long, raking strides of the hardy horses. Occasionally Grey was forced to pull off the trail into the deep snow to allow the heavy-laden hay-rack of some farmer to pa.s.s, or a box-sleigh, weighted down with sacks of grain, toiling on its way to the Ainsley elevator. These inconveniences were the rule of the road, the lighter always giving way to the heavier conveyance.