“Have you made up your mind whether you want a job or not?” he asked.
Prescott said he thought he would push on, and the man looked at him deprecatingly.
“Well,” he said, “we don’t want to appear inhospitable, but as things are run here, you’re the guest of the boss, and since he didn’t give the invitation, there might be trouble if he noticed you.”
“As it happens, I want to get hold of Kermode as soon as I can,” Prescott answered.
“You shouldn’t have much difficulty in finding him. It’s hardly possible for a man of his gifts to go through the country without leaving a plain trail behind.”
Prescott agreed with this. He had not much doubt of Kermode’s identity, and he thought his missing friend 142 would give any acquaintances he made on his travels cause to remember him.
“There’s a construction train starting west in about half an hour,” resumed the railroad hand. “If you get on board with the boys, it will look as if you belonged to the gang.”
Daylight had come when Prescott clambered up on one of the long flat cars loaded with rails and ties, and in a few minutes the train started. It followed what was called a cut-out line, which worked round the muskeg and back to the main track through a country too difficult for the latter to traverse; and for a while Prescott’s interest was occupied by its progress. Groups of men in brown overalls6 were seated on the rails, which clanged musically in rude harmony with the clatter7 of the wheels. A sooty cloud streamed back above them, now and then blotting8 out the clusters of figures; the cars swayed and shook, and in view of the roughness of the line Prescott admired the nerve of the engineer.
The wind that whipped his face was cold and pierced the blanket he had flung over his shoulders; but the sunshine was growing brighter and the mist in the hollows was rapidly vanishing. As a rule, the depressions were swampy9, and as they sped across them Prescott could see the huge locomotive rocking, while the rails, which were spiked10 to ties thrown down on brush, sank beneath the weight and sprang up again as the cars jolted11 by. As they rushed down tortuous13 declivities, the cars banged and canted round the curves, while Prescott held on tight, his feet braced14 against a rail. It was better when they joined the graded track, and toward noon he was given a meal with the others at a camp where a bridge was being strengthened. When they started 143 again, he lay down in his blanket where the sunshine fell upon him and the end of the car kept off the wind, and lighting16 his pipe became lost in reflection.
It was obvious that he must use every effort to find Jernyngham and he thought he might succeed in this; but what then? To prove his innocence17, in which she already believed, would not bridge the gulf18 between him and Muriel Hurst. It seemed impossible that she should be willing to marry a working rancher. Yet he knew that he could not overcome his love for her; there was pleasure as well as pain in remembering her frankness and gaiety and confidence in him; and the charm of her beauty was strong. He recalled the crimson19 of her lips, the glow of warm color in her hair, the brightness of her smile, and the softness he had once or twice seen in her violet eyes. Then he drove these thoughts away; to indulge in them would only make the self-denial he must practise the harder.
He next tried to occupy his mind with Gertrude Jernyngham, for he was still without a clue to her disconcerting change of mood. She had no great attraction for him, but he had pitied her and found a certain pleasure in her society. It was strange that after taking his view of her brother’s fate against the one her father held, she should suddenly turn upon him in bitter anger. He was hurt at this, particularly as he did not think the revelation that he had personated Cyril accounted for everything. However, as it was unavoidable, he thought he could bear Miss Jernyngham’s suspicion.
He was disturbed in his reflections by a sudden jolt12 of the train as it stopped at a water-tank. Getting down with the others, he saw a man standing20 in the entrance of a 144 half-finished wooden building. The fellow looked like a mechanic, and his short blue-serge jacket and other details of his dress suggested that he was an Englishman. On speaking to him, Prescott learned that the train would be detained a while, because a locomotive and some empty cars were coming down the line. The man further mentioned that a number of railroad hands had been engaged in putting up the building until lately, when they had been sent on somewhere else, and Prescott inquired if there had been a man among them who answered to his friend’s description.
“There was,” said the other dryly, and called to somebody inside: “Here’s a fellow asking for Kermode!”
“Bring him in!” replied a voice, and Prescott entered the building.
It contained a pump and two large steel tanks. Near one of them a man was doing something with a drill, but he took out his pipe and pointed21 to a piece of sacking laid on a beam.
“Sit down and have a smoke,” he said. “You have plenty of time. Was Kermode a friend of yours?”
Prescott looked about the place. He saw that it was a filtering station for the treatment of water unfit for locomotive use.
“Thanks,” he responded. “I knew Kermode pretty well; but I needn’t stop you.”
“Oh, don’t mind that!” grinned the other. “We’re not paid by the piece on this job. Besides, they’ve some chisels22 for us on your train and we haven’t got them yet.”
“You’re English, aren’t you?” Prescott asked. “Are you stopping out here?”
“Not much!” exclaimed the other with scorn. “What 145 d’you take me for? There’s more in life than whacking23 rivets24 and holding the caulker26. When a man has finished his work in this wilderness27, what has he to do? There’s no music halls, no nothing; only the dismal28 prairie that makes your eyes sore to look at.”
Prescott had heard other Englishmen express themselves in a similar fashion, and he laughed.
“If that’s what you think of the country, why did you come here?”
“Big wages,” replied the first man, entering the building. “Funny, isn’t it, that when you want good work done you have to send for us? Every machine-shop in your country’s full of labor-saving and ingenious tools, but when you build bridges with them they fall down, and I’ve seen tanks that wouldn’t hold water.”
“Oh, well,” said Prescott, divided between amusement and impatience29, “this isn’t to the point. I understand Kermode was here with you?”
“He was. Came in on a construction train, looking for a job, and when we saw he was from the old country we put him on.”
“You put him on? Don’t these things rest with the division boss?”
The man grinned.
“You don’t understand. We’re specialists and get what we ask for. Sent the boss word we wanted an assistant, and, as we’d picked one up, all he had to do was to put him on the pay-roll.”
“And did Kermode get through his work satisfactorily?”
“For a while. He was a handy man; might have made a boiler-maker if he’d took to it young. When we had nothing else to keep him busy, he’d cut tobacco for us and set us laughing with his funny talk.” 146
This was much in keeping with Jernyngham’s character. But the man went on:
“When we’d made him a pretty good hand with the file and drill, he got Bill to teach him how to caulk25. He shaped first-rate, so one day we thought we’d leave him to it while we went off for a jaunt30. Bill had bought an old shot-gun from a farmer, and we’d seen a lot of wild hens about.”
“It would be close time—you can only shoot them in October; but I suppose that wouldn’t count.”
“Not a bit,” said the boiler-maker. “All we were afraid of was that a train might come in with the boss on board; but we chanced it. We told Kermode he might go round the tank-plate landings—the laps, you know—with the caulker, and give them a rough tuck in, ready for us to finish; and then we went off. Well, we didn’t shoot any wild hens, though Bill got some pellets in his leg, and when we came back we both felt pretty bad when we saw what Kermode had done. Bill couldn’t think of names enough to call him, and he’s good at it.”
“What had he done?”
“Hammered the inside of the landings down with a gullet you could put your finger in. Too much energy’s your mate’s complaint. Nobody could tell what that man would do when he gets steam up. Understand, we’re boiler-making specialists, sent out on awkward jobs; and he’d put in work that would disgrace a farmer! For all that, it was Bill’s fault for speaking his mind too free—he got thrown behind the tank.”
“I wasn’t,” contradicted the other. “He jumped at me unexpected when the spanner hit him, and I fell.”
Prescott laughed. Remembering how Jernyngham had driven a truculent31 rabble32 out of Sebastian, he could 147 imagine the scene in the shed; but it was evident that the boiler-makers bore him no malice33.
“After all,” said the first one, “when we cooled off and got talking quiet, he said he’d better go, and we parted friendly.”
“Do you know where he went?”
“I don’t; we didn’t care. We’d had enough of him. First thing was to put that caulking34 right, and we spent three or four days driving the landings down—you can do a lot with good soft steel. Anyhow, when we filled up the time-sheet showing how far we’d got on with the job, there was a nasty letter from the engineer. Wanted to know what we’d been playing at and said he’d have us sent home if we couldn’t do better.”
While Prescott thanked them for the information a bell began to toll3 and there was a rattle of wheels. Hurrying out, he saw a locomotive approaching the tank and men clambering on to the cars in which he had traveled. Soon after he joined them, the train rolled out of the side-track and sped west, clattering35 and jolting36 toward the lurid37 sunset that burned upon the edge of the plain. Jack-pines and scattered38 birches stood out hard and black against the glare, the rails blazed with crimson fire and faded as the ruddy light changed to cold green, and there was a sting of frost in the breeze.
They dropped a few men at places where work was going on, stopped for water, and crawled at slow speed over half-finished bridges and lengths of roughly graded line. After nightfall it grew bitterly cold and Prescott, lying on the boards with his blanket over him, shivered, half asleep. For the most part, darkness shut them in, but every now and then lights blazed beside the line and voices hailed the engineer as the pace decreased. Then, 148 while the whistle shrieked39, ballast cars on a side-track and tall iron frameworks slipped by, and they ran out again into the silent waste. Prescott was conscious of a continuous jolting which shook him to and fro; he thought he heard a confused altercation40 among his companions at the end of the car, and the clang of wheels and the shaking rails rang in measured cadence41 in his ears. Then the sounds died away and he fell into a heavy sleep.
It was noon the next day when he alighted, aching all over, where the line ran into a deep hollow between fir-clad hills. A stream came flashing through the gorge42 and at the mouth of it shacks and tents and small frame houses straggled up a rise, with a wooden church behind them. Farther up, the hollow was filled with somber43 conifers, and the hills above it ran back, ridge15 beyond ridge, into the distance. Then, looking very high and far away, a vast chain of snowy summits was etched against a sky of softest blue. Those that caught the light gleamed with silvery brightness, but part of the great range lay in shadow, steeped in varying hues44 of ethereal gray. From north to south, as far as the eye could follow, the serrated line of crag and peak swept on majestically45.
Tired as he was, Prescott felt the impressiveness of the spectacle; but he had other things to think about, and slipping away from the railroad hands, he turned toward a rude frame hotel which stood among the firs beside the river. Rows of tall stumps46 spread about it, farther back lay rows of logs, diffusing47 a sweet resinous48 fragrance49. Through a gap between the towering trunks one looked up the wild, forest-shrouded gorge, and the litter of old provision cans, general refuse, and discarded 149 boots could not spoil the beauty of the scene. Prescott asked for a room; and sitting outside after dinner, he gathered from some men, who were not working, the story of Kermode’s next exploit. Their accounts of it were terse50 and somewhat disconnected, but Prescott was afterward51 able to amplify52 them from the narrative53 of a more cultured person.
Kermode had been unloading rails all day, and he was standing on the veranda54 one evening when a supply train from the east was due. It appeared that he had renewed his wardrobe at the local store and invariably changed his clothes when his work was finished. This was looked upon as a very unusual thing, and his companions thought it even more curious that he had not been known to enter the bar of the hotel; its proprietor55 was emphatic56 on the point. A number of railroad hands lounged about, attired57 as usual in their working clothes.
At length the tolling of a bell broke through the silence of the woods and the train ran in. The rutted street became crowded with unkempt, thirsty men, and in a few minutes the hotel was filled with their harsh voices. Last of all appeared a girl, with a very untidy man carrying a bag beside her. She walked with a limp, and looked jaded58 and rather frightened. Her light cloak was thick with dust and locomotive cinders59 which clung to the woolly material; her face was hot and anxious, but attractive.
“Thank you,” she said to her companion, opening her purse when they reached the veranda.
“Shucks! You can put that back,” returned the man with an awkward gesture and then, lifting the bag, carefully replaced the end of a garment that projected 150 through the bottom. “I’ll carry the grip in for you, but you want to be careful with the thing. Seems to have got busted60 when the rails fell on it.”
The girl passed through a wire-net door that he opened, and Kermode, following, waited for several minutes after her companion had rung a bell. Then a man in a white shirt and smart clothes appeared.
“Can I send a telegram from here to Drummond?” she asked him.
“No; the wires won’t run into that district until next year.”
“How can I get there?”
“I guess you’ll have to hire a team at the livery-stable; take you about three days to get through.”
The girl looked dismayed.
“Then can you give me a room to-night?” she asked.
“Sorry,” said the man, “we’re full up with the railroad boys; the waitresses have to camp in the kitchen. Don’t know if anybody can take you in; the track bosses have got all the rooms in town.”
He disappeared and the girl sat down, looking very forlorn and disconsolate61. Her voice was English and she had obviously traveled a long distance in an open car on the supply train. Kermode felt sorry for her. He took off his hat as he approached.
“If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, I’ll see if I can find you quarters,” he said.
She glanced at him suspiciously, with a heightened color, which he thought a favorable sign, but her eyes grew more confident and when she agreed he withdrew. As a man of experience who had been a favorite with women, he was, however, guilty of an error of judgment62 during his search. A smart young woman with whom he 151 was on friendly terms managed a cigar store, and it is possible that she would have taken some trouble to oblige him; but his request that she should offer shelter to another girl whose acquaintance he seemed to have made in a most casual manner was received with marked coldness. Kermode, indeed, felt sorry he had suggested it when he left the store and set out for a shack2 belonging to the widow of a man killed on the line. She was elderly and grim, a strict Methodist from the east, who earned a pittance63 by mending the workmen’s clothes. After catechizing Kermode severely64, she gave a very qualified65 assent66; and returning to the hotel, he found the girl anxiously waiting for him. She looked relieved when he reported his success.
“I had better go at once,” she said. “You think Mrs. Jasper will take me in?”
Kermode picked up the bag.
“To tell the truth, she only promised to have a look at you.” Then he smiled reassuringly67. “I’ve no doubt there’ll be no difficulty when she has done so.”
The girl followed him and, as they went slowly up the street, while all the loungers watched them, she gave Kermode a confused explanation. Her name was Helen Foster, and she had come from England to join a brother who had taken up a farm near Drummond, which Prescott had heard was a remote settlement. Her brother had told her to notify him on her arrival at Winnipeg and await instructions, but on board the steamer she had met the wife of a railroad man engaged on the new line who had offered her company to a point in the west from which Helen could reach her destination. On arriving at the railroad man’s station, he had sent her on by the supply train. 152
A little distance up the street, Kermode stopped outside a shed in which a fellow of unprepossessing appearance was rubbing down a horse. His character, as Kermode knew, was no better than his looks.
“I must see the liveryman,” he told the girl, and when he had sent the hostler for him the proprietor came out.
“The round-trip to Drummond will take six days, and you’d want a team,” he said. “I’d have to charge you thirty dollars.”
Kermode looked dubious68, his companion dismayed. She had three dollars and a few cents.
“Can you drive this lady there?” Kermode asked.
“I can’t. Jim would have to go.”
“I think not,” said Kermode firmly. “I’ll see you about a saddle-horse in the morning.” He turned to the girl: “We’ll go along again.”
A few minutes later they reached the widow’s shack and Kermode waited some time after his companion was admitted. As she did not come out, he concluded that Mrs. Jasper was satisfied and returned to the hotel, where he was freely bantered69 by the loungers.
“That will do, boys,” he said at length. “If there’s any more of this kind of talk, the man who keeps it up will get badly hurt.”
They saw that he meant it and, as he was popular, they left him in peace.
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1
shacks
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| n.窝棚，简陋的小屋( shack的名词复数 ) | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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blotting
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| 吸墨水纸 | |
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swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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jolted
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| （使）摇动， （使）震惊( jolt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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chisels
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| n.凿子，錾子( chisel的名词复数 )；口凿 | |
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whacking
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| adj.（用于强调）巨大的v.重击，使劲打( whack的现在分词 ) | |
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rivets
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| 铆钉( rivet的名词复数 ) | |
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caulk
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| v.堵缝 | |
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caulker
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| n.填塞船缝的人或器具 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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jaunt
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| v.短程旅游；n.游览 | |
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truculent
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| adj.野蛮的，粗野的 | |
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rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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caulking
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| n.堵缝；敛缝；捻缝；压紧v.堵（船的）缝( caulk的现在分词 )；泥…的缝；填塞；使不漏水 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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jolting
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| adj.令人震惊的 | |
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lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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cadence
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| n.（说话声调的）抑扬顿挫 | |
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42
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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43
somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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44
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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45
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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46
stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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47
diffusing
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| （使光）模糊，漫射，漫散( diffuse的现在分词 )； （使）扩散； （使）弥漫； （使）传播 | |
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48
resinous
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| adj.树脂的，树脂质的，树脂制的 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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50
terse
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| adj.(说话，文笔)精炼的，简明的 | |
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51
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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52
amplify
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| vt.放大，增强；详述，详加解说 | |
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53
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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54
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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55
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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56
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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57
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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59
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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60
busted
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| adj. 破产了的，失败了的，被降级的，被逮捕的，被抓到的 动词bust的过去式和过去分词 | |
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61
disconsolate
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| adj.忧郁的，不快的 | |
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62
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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63
pittance
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| n.微薄的薪水，少量 | |
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64
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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65
qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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66
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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68
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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69
bantered
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| v.开玩笑，说笑，逗乐( banter的过去式和过去分词 )；（善意地）取笑，逗弄 | |
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