The Mistress of Bonaventure Part 9

HOW REDMOND CAME HOME

The weather continued pitilessly hot and dry, when, one afternoon, Trooper Cotton, returning from a tour of fireguard inspection, sat near the window-seat in which I lay at Gaspard's Trail. I was glad of his company, because the sight of the parched prairie and bare strip of plowland was depressing. Barns and granary alike were empty, for the earth had failed to redeem her promise that season, and an unnatural silence brooded over Gaspard's Trail.

"I don't know what has come over this country," the trooper said. "One used to get a cheery word everywhere, but now farmer and stockman can hardly answer a question civilly, and the last fellow I spoke to about his fireguards seemed inclined to a.s.sault me. Presumably it's the bad times, and I'll be thankful when they improve. It might put some of you into a more pleasant humor."

"If you had said bad men you might have been nearer the mark," I answered dryly. "We are a peaceable people, but there's an oppression worse than any governmental tyranny, and from the rumors in the air it's not impossible some of us may try to find our own remedy if we are pushed too far."

"That's a little indefinite," said Cotton, with a laugh. "If you mean taking the law into your own hands, there would be very unpleasant work for me. Still, I'm sorry for all of you, especially those whom that flabby scoundrel Lane seems to be squeezing. He's been driving to and from the railroad a good deal of late, and it's curious that twice when I struck his trail two traveling photographers turned up soon after him.

One was a most amusing rascal, but I did not see the other, who was busy inside the wagon tent, and who apparently managed the camera. I'll show you a really tolerable picture of me he insisted on taking."

It struck me that Boone, or Adams, had twice run a serious risk; but I said nothing, and Cotton, fumbling inside his tunic, tossed a litter of papers on the table. These were mostly official, but there were odd letters among them, for the trooper was not remarkable for preciseness, and I noticed a crest upon some of the envelopes, while, after shuffling them, he flung me a small card, back uppermost. I was surprised when, turning it over, the face of Lucille Haldane met my gaze.

"It is a charming picture; but that is only natural, considering the original. How did you get this, Cotton?" I said.

The trooper s.n.a.t.c.hed it from me, and a darker color mantled his forehead. "Confound it! I never meant to show you that," he said.

"So I surmised," I answered dryly; and the lad frowned as he thrust the picture out of sight.

"You will understand, Ormesby, that Miss Haldane did not give me this.

I--well--I discovered it."

"Wasn't it foolish of you?" I asked quietly; and the trooper, who, strange to say, did not seem to find my tone of paternal admonition ludicrous, answered impulsively: "I don't know why I should strip for your inspection, Ormesby, or why I should not favor you with a well-known reply; but it is perhaps best that you should not misunderstand the position. I know what you are thinking, but I haven't forgotten I'm Trooper Cotton--nor am I likely to. It's a strange life, Ormesby, and the men who live it go under occasionally. This--G.o.d bless her--is merely something to hold on by."

I made no answer, for there was nothing appropriate I could find to say; but it occurred to me that Lucille Haldane might never receive a higher compliment than this lad's unexpectant homage.

"Here is the right one, and you will obliterate the other from your memory," he said, pa.s.sing me a second photograph. "The fellow who took it knows how to handle a camera."

It was evident he did; and, knowing who he was, the irony of the circ.u.mstances impressed me as I examined the picture. "He has an artistic taste and an eye for an effective pose. Are you going to send any copies to your people in England, Cotton?" I said.

"No," answered the lad quietly; "they might not be pleased with it.

Well, I dare say, you have guessed long ago that I am one of the legion.

Most of my people were soldiers, which was why, when I had two dollars left, I offered the nation my services at Regina; but I am the first of them to wear a police private's uniform."

I nodded sympathetically, and the trooper, who looked away from me out of the window, said: "Talk of the devil! All men, it is said, are equal in this country, but I fancy there's a grade between most of us and your acquaintance, Foster Lane. The fellow has pa.s.sed the corral, and I can't get out without meeting him."

I nodded with a certain grim sense of antic.i.p.ation, for I had determined to speak very plainly to Foster Lane, and knew that Cotton could, on occasion, display a refined insolence that was signally exasperating.

The next moment Lane came in, red-faced and perspiring, and greeted me with his usual affability.

"I'm on the way to recovery, but unable to ride far, which explains my request for a visit," I said; and Lane waved his large hands deprecatingly.

"Business is business, and you need not apologize, because although I have come two hundred miles you will find first-cla.s.s expenses charged for in the bill. I can't smoke on horseback. Will you and the trooper try one of these?"

"No, thanks," said Cotton, with an inflection in his voice and a look in his half-closed eyes that would have warned a more sensitive person; but Lane, still holding out the cigar-case, added with mild surprise: "By the price I paid for them they ought to be good."

"I don't doubt it," drawled Cotton, glancing languidly at the speaker.

"But a few of what you would call British prejudices still cling to me, and I take cigars and things only from my friends--you see?"

The stout man laughed a little, though there was malice in his eye. "And we are not likely to be acquainted? You are, one might presume, a scion of the English aristocracy, come out to recruit your health or wait until it's a little less sultry in the old country."

"I would hardly go so far!"--and Cotton drawled out the words, as he turned upon his heel. "More unlikely things have happened. At present I have the honor of serving her Majesty as--a police trooper."

Lane handed me his cigar-case when the lad strolled out of the door, but I was in no mood to a.s.sume an unfelt cordiality. "I am not inclined for smoking. Hadn't we better come straight to business?" I said.

Lane struck a match, and stretched his legs along the window-seat, though he closed the case with a snap. "Why, certainly! You are ready to redeem the mortgage on Gaspard's Trail?"

He spoke pleasantly, though there was a sneer in his eyes, and he had both lighted his cigar, in spite of my hint, and laid his dusty boots on the cushions with a cool a.s.surance that made me long to personally chastise him. "You probably know that I am not," I said.

"I did hear you had lost some cattle," he answered indifferently. "Well, in that case, I wait your proposition."

"I am open to renew the loan at the original interest until this time next year, when, no matter what I may have to part with, it will be paid off. You have already had a very fair return on your money," I said.

"It can't be done," and Lane looked thoughtfully at his cigar. "I'll carry you on that long at double interest, or make you a bid outright for Crane Valley."

"There is no reason in your first offer; you asked only fifty per cent.

increase last time, which was enough in all conscience. What do you want with Crane Valley?"

Lane smiled benignly. "You didn't accept that offer formally. Crane Valley's a pretty location, and I've taken a fancy to it."

I took time to answer, and set my brain to work. The advantage lay with the enemy, but, while it appeared certain that he would dispossess me of Gaspard's Trail, I determined to hold on to Crane Valley. "You can't have it, and I will not pay the extortionate interest. That, I think, is plain enough," I said.

The financier shrugged his shoulders. "I hope you won't be sorry. I haven't quite decided on my program, but you will hear what it is when I'm ready. Have you got your own fixed?"

"I will have soon," I answered, my indignation gaining the mastery.

"There is no advantage to be gained by further circ.u.mlocution, and you may as well know that I will give you as much trouble as possible before you plunder me. In the first place, if we find Redmond, I shall try to strike you for conspiracy."

"Do you know where Redmond is?" and there was a curious note in the speaker's voice, though I stolidly refrained from any sign of either negation or a.s.sent. "Neither do I; but I have my suspicions that he won't be much use to you if you do find him. The man is half-crazy, anyway. Did you ever hear about the fool bullfrog and the ox, Rancher Ormesby?"

He leaned back against the logs, and chuckled so complacently at his own conceit that it was hard to believe this easy-tempered creature was draining half my neighbors' blood; but I was filled with a great loathing for him.

"Your simile isn't a good one, even if it fits the case. An ox is a hard-working, honest, and useful kind of beast; but there's no use bandying words," I said.

"Just so!" and Lane rose lazily. "It's rather a pity you sent for me, because you have not had much for your money. Being rather pressed just now, I won't stay."

I had no intention of requesting him to do so, for the air seemed clearer without him, and presently Cotton returned. For the first time, I told him all my suspicions concerning Redmond, and he looked grave as he listened. "It would have saved some people sorrow if I could only have run that horse-leach in," he commented, gazing regretfully after the diminishing figure of the rider. "Yes; it's curious about Redmond.

Lane was over at his place a little while before your accident, and I believe afterwards as well, and since then n.o.body has seen Redmond. I'll have a talk with Mackay, and put some of our men on his trail. If he's still on top of the prairie they'll find him."

Cotton rode away; and late that evening Steel returned from his own holding with a very grim face, while the eyes of his sister were suspiciously red.

"I'm to be sold up, and am turned out now," he said. "Lane, who won't wait any longer, is foreclosing, and he'll fix things so there will be no balance left. G.o.d knows what's to become of Sally and me."

"You need not trouble about Sally," the girl said, with a flash in her eyes. "We'll worry along somehow, and we'll live to see that devil sorry."

Practical counsel seemed the best sympathy, and after asking a few questions, I said: "This is going to be a grain-producing country, and there are plenty acres ready for breaking and horses idle at Crane Valley. When Lane seizes Gaspard's Trail, as he probably will, we must see what can be done with them on the share arrangement; and meantime, since I paid two hired men off, there is plenty for you to do here helping me."

Steel eventually agreed, and as soon as I was fit for the saddle I rode over to Mackay's quarters; but, though he stated that if Redmond were anywhere in the Territories he would sooner or later be found, nothing had so far resulted from his inquiries.

It was some weeks later, and towards the close of a sultry afternoon, when I rode homewards with Cotton and Steel towards the Sweet.w.a.ter. We had much thunder that season, and though there had been a heavy storm the night before, a stagnant, oppressive atmosphere still hung over the prairie. It suited the somber mood of two of the party, while even Cotton seemed unusually subdued.