She was listening to Edgar with a smile in her eyes, and looking, so he thought, remarkably3 attractive in her light summer dress which left her pretty, round arms uncovered to the elbow and displayed the polished whiteness of her neck. He was expressing his approval of the current fashions, which he said were rational and particularly becoming to people with skins like ivory. Indeed, he was so engrossed4 in his subject that he did not hear footsteps approaching until his companion flashed a warning glance at him; and he swung round with some annoyance5 as the door opened.
"I guessed I would find you here," said the station-agent, looking in with an indulgent smile.
"You're a thoughtful man," retorted Edgar. "You may as well tell me what you want."
"I've a wire from Flett, sent at Hatfield, down the line."
"What can he be doing there?" Edgar exclaimed; and Miss Taunton showed her interest.
"He was coming through on the train. Wanted Mr. Lansing to meet him at the station, if he was in town. Hadn't you better go along?"
"I suppose so," said Edgar resignedly, glancing at his watch. "It looks as if your men had taken their time. Flett should be here in about a quarter of an hour now."
"Operator had train orders to get through; we have two freights side-tracked," the agent explained. "Don't be late; she's coming along on time."
He hurried out, and a few minutes later Edgar crossed the street and strolled along the low wooden platform, upon which a smart constable6 was waiting. A long trail of smoke, drawing rapidly nearer, streaked7 the gray and ochre of the level plain, and presently the big engine and dusty cars rolled into the station amid the hoarse8 tolling9 of the bell. As they ran slowly past him, Edgar saw a police trooper leaning out from a vestibule, and when the train stopped the constable on the platform hurried toward the car. A hum of excited voices broke out and Edgar had some difficulty in pushing through the growing crowd to reach the steps. A constable, who had hard work to keep the others back, let him pass, and he found Flett standing10 on the platform above, looking rather jaded11, with a pistol loose in his holster.
"Isn't Mr. Lansing here?" Flett asked eagerly, and then turned to the trooper. "Keep those fellows off!"
"No," answered Edgar; "he hasn't come into town. But what's the cause of this commotion12? Have you got your men?"
"Three of them," said Flett, with a look of pride. "I expect we'll get the fourth. But come in a minute, out of the noise."
The car was besieged13. Curious men were clambering up the side of it, trying to peer in through the windows; others disputed angrily with the trooper who drove them off the steps. Eager questions were shouted and scraps14 of random15 information given, and groups of people were excitedly running across the street to the station. It was, however, a little quieter in the vestibule when Flett had banged the door. He next opened the inner door that led to the smoking compartment16 of the Colonist17 car. In spite of its roominess, it was almost insufferably hot and very dirty; the sunlight struck in through the windows; sand and fine cinders18 lay thick upon the floor. A pile of old blue blankets lay, neatly19 folded, on one of the wooden seats, and on those adjoining sat three men. Two wore brown duck overalls20, gray shirts, and big soft hats; one was dressed in threadbare cloth; but there was nothing that particularly suggested the criminal in any of their sunburned faces. They looked hot and weary with the journey, and though their expression was perhaps a little hard, they looked like harvest hands traveling in search of work. One, who was quietly smoking, took his pipe from his mouth and spoke21 to Flett.
"Can't you get us some ice?" he asked. "The water in the tank isn't fit to drink."
"They haven't any here. You'll have to wait until we get to the junction," Flett told him, and drew Edgar back into the vestibule.
"We're taking them right along to Regina," he explained. "I'm sorry I couldn't see Mr. Lansing, but I'll ride over as soon as I'm sent back. If he's likely to be away, he'd better send word to the station."
"I don't expect he'll leave the farm during the next few weeks," said
Edgar.
Then one of the constables22 looked in.
"Conductor says he can't hold up the train."
"I'll be off," said Edgar, with a smile at Flett. "This should mean promotion23; it's a fine piece of work."
He jumped down as the train pulled out and hurried back to the store where Miss Taunton was eagerly awaiting news. Soon afterward24 he left; and as he rode up to the homestead day was breaking, but he found George already at work in the stable.
"It's lucky we don't need your horse. If you're going to keep up this kind of thing, you had better buy an automobile," he remarked.
Edgar laughed.
"I don't feel remarkably fresh, but I'll hold out until to-night. There's the fallowing to be got on with; I suppose nothing must interfere25 with that. But aren't you up a little earlier than usual?"
"I want to haul in the posts for the new fence. Grierson has his hands full, and now that there are four of us, Jake spends so much time in cooking."
"A reckless waste of precious minutes!" Edgar exclaimed ironically. "If one could only get over these troublesome bodily needs, you could add hours of work to every week and make Sylvia Marston rich. By the way, Jake's cooking is getting awful."
He put up his horse and busied himself with several tasks before he went in to breakfast. When it was finished, and the others went out, he detained George.
"What did you think of that meal?" he asked.
"Well," said George, "it might have been better."
Edgar laughed scornfully.
"It would take some time to tell you my opinion, but I may as well point out that you're paying a big bill for stores to Taunton, though we never get anything fit to eat. Helen and I were talking over your account, and she wondered what we did with the things, besides giving me an idea. It's this—why don't you tell Grierson to bring out his wife?"
"I never thought of it. She might not come; and she may not cook much better than Jake."
"She certainly couldn't cook worse! I expect she would save her wages, and she would set a hired man free. Jake can drive a team."
"It's a good idea," George agreed. "Send Grierson in."
The man came a few minutes later.
"We get on pretty well; I suppose you are willing to stay with me?"
George said to him.
Grierson hesitated and looked disturbed.
"The fact is, I'd be very sorry to leave; but I'm afraid I'll have to by and by. You see, I've got to find a place I can take my wife to."
"Can she cook?"
"Yes," said Grierson, indicating the remnants on the table with contempt. "She would do better than this with her eyes shut! Then," he continued eagerly, "she can wash and mend clothes. I've noticed that you and Mr. West throw half your things away long before you need to."
"That's true," Edgar admitted. "It's the custom of the country; time's too valuable to spend in mending anything, though I've noticed that one or two of the people who tell you about the value of time get through a good deal of it lounging round the Sachem. Anyway, amateur laundering's an abomination, and I'm most successful in washing the buttons and wrist-bands off." He turned to his companion. "George, you'll have to send for Mrs. Grierson."
The matter was promptly26 arranged, and when Grierson went out with a look of keen satisfaction, Edgar laughed.
"I feel like pointing out how far an idea can go. Helen only thought of making me a little more comfortable, and you see the result of it—Grierson and his wife united, things put into shape here, four people content! Of course, one could cite a more striking example; I mean when Sylvia Marston thought you had better go out and look after her farm. There's no need to mention the far-reaching consequences that opinion had."
"I volunteered to go out," George corrected him.
"Well," said Edgar, "I quite believe you did so. But you're no doubt pining to get at the fence."
They went off to work, but Edgar, driving the gang-plow through the stubble under a scorching27 sun, thought that Sylvia's idea might bear more fruit than she had calculated on, and that it would be bitter to her. His mind, however, was chiefly occupied with a more attractive person, and once when he turned the heavy horses at the end of the furrows28 he said softly, "May I deserve her!" and looked up with a tense expression in his hot face, as if making some firm resolve, which was a procedure that would have astonished even those who knew him well.
A week passed, each day growing brighter and hotter, until the glare flung back by sandy soil and whitening grass became painful, and George and his assistants discarded most of their clothing when they went about their tasks. The oats began to show a silvery gleam as they swayed in the strong light; the wheat was changing color, and there were warm coppery gleams among the heavy ears; horses and cattle sought the poplars' shade. Then one evening when the Grants had driven over, Flett arrived at the homestead, and, sitting on the stoop as the air grew cooler, related his adventures.
"I guess my chiefs wouldn't be pleased to hear me; we're not encouraged to talk, but there's a reason for it, as you'll see when I'm through," he said, and plunged29 abruptly30 into his narrative31.
It proved to be a moving tale of weary rides in scorching heat and in the dusk of night, of rebuffs and daunting32 failures. Flett, as he admitted, had several times been cleverly misled and had done some unwise things, but he had never lost his patience nor relaxed his efforts. Slowly and doggedly33, picking up scraps of information where he could, he had trailed his men to the frontier, where his real troubles had begun. Once that he crossed it, he had no authority, and the American sheriffs and deputies were not invariably sympathetic. Some, he concluded, were unduly34 influenced by local opinion, which was not in favor of interfering35 with people who confined their depredations36 to Canadian horses. Others, who acknowledged past favors from Regina, foresaw troublesome complications before he could be allowed to deport37 the offenders38; but some, with a strong sense of duty, offered willing help, and that was how he had been able to make the arrests on Canadian soil.
"Now," he concluded, "we tracked these men from point to point and I've evidence to prove most of their moves, but they never had the four horses in a bunch until they made Montana, which is a point against us. We can show they were working as a gang, that they were altogether with the horses on American soil, but as we haven't corralled the only man Mr. Grant could swear to, there's only one way of proving how they got them. You see where all this leads?"
"It looks as if you depended on my evidence for a conviction," said
George.
Flett nodded.
"You saw Mr. Grant attacked and the horses run off. You can identify one man, and we'll connect him with the rest."
He took out a paper and handed it to George.
"It's my duty to serve you with this; and now that it's done, I'll warn you to watch out until after the trial. If we can convict these fellows, we smash the crowd, but we'd be helpless without you."
George opened the document and found it a formal summons to attend the court at Regina on a date specified39. Then he produced another paper and gave it to Flett with a smile.
"The opposition40 seem to recognize my importance, and they move more quickly than the police."
The trooper took the letter, which was typed and bore no date or name of place.
"'Keep off this trial and you'll have no more trouble,'" he read aloud. "'Back up the police and you'll be sorry. If you mean to drop them, drive over to the Butte, Thursday, and get supper at the Queen's.'"
"Yesterday was Thursday, and I didn't go," George said after a moment's silence.
The quiet intimation was not a surprise to any of them, and Flett nodded as he examined the letter.
"Not much of a clue," he remarked. "Toronto paper that's sold at every store; mailed two stations down the line. Nobody would have met you at the Queen's, but most anybody in town would know if you had been there. Anyway, I'll take this along." He rose. "I can't stop, but I want to say we're not afraid of your backing down."
He rode off in a few more minutes and after a while the Grants took their leave, but Flora41 walked down the trail with George while the team was being harnessed.
"You'll be careful, won't you?" she said. "These men are dangerous; they know yours is the most important evidence. I shall be anxious until the trial."
There was something in her eyes and voice that sent a curious thrill through George.
"I don't think that's needful; I certainly won't be reckless," he said.
Then Flora got into the vehicle; and during the next week or two George took precautions. Indeed, he now and then felt a little uncomfortable when he had occasion to pass a shadowy bluff42. He carried a pistol when he went around the outbuildings at night, and fell into a habit of stopping to listen, ready to strike or shoot, each time he opened the door of one in the dark.
For all that, nothing occurred to excite suspicion, and after a while he felt inclined to smile at his nervousness. At length, one day when the trial was close at hand, and Edgar had gone to the Butte, the mail-carrier brought him a note from Grant.
It consisted of a couple of lines asking him to come over during the evening, and as supper had been finished two hours before, George realized that there was not much time to spare. Laying down the note, he walked to the door and called his Canadian hired man.
"Put the saddle on the brown horse, Jake; I'm going to Grant's."
The man did as he was bidden, and when George was about to mount handed him a repeating rifle.
"Better take this along; cylinder's full," he said. "It will be dark before you get there."
George hesitated. The rifle was heavy, but it was a more reliable weapon than a pistol, and he rode off with it. The sun had dipped when he started, the air was rapidly cooling, and after spending the day sinking holes for fence posts in the scorching sun, he found the swift motion and the little breeze that fanned his face pleasant. To the northwest, a flush of vivid crimson43 glowed along the horizon, but the sweep of grass was growing dim and a bluff he reached at length stood out, a sharp-cut, dusky mass, against the fading light. He pulled up his horse on its outskirts44. A narrow trail led through the wood, its entrance marked by a dark gap among the shadowy trees, and it somehow looked forbidding. The bluff, however, stretched across his path; it was getting late, and George was a little impatient of the caution he had been forced to exercise. Laying his rifle ready across the saddle, he sent his horse forward.
It was quite dark in the bluff, though here and there he could see a glimmer45 of faint red and orange between the trees, and the stillness had a slightly disturbing effect on him. Not a leaf moved, the beat of his horse's hoofs46 rang sharply down the narrow trail above which the thin birch branches met. He wanted to get out into the open, where he could see about, as soon as possible. There was, however, no ostensible47 cause for uneasiness and he rode on quietly, until he heard a soft rustling48 among the slender trunks. Pulling up the horse, he called out, and, as he half expected, got no answer. Then he cast a swift glance ahead. There was a gleam of dim light not far away where the trail led out of the bluff. Throwing the rifle to his shoulder, George fired into the shadows.
The horse plunged violently and broke into a frightened gallop49. George heard a whistle and a sharper rustling, and rode toward the light at a furious pace. Then his horse suddenly stumbled and came down. The rifle flew out of George's hand, and he was hurled50 against a tree. The next moment he felt himself rudely seized, and what he thought was a jacket was wrapped about his head. Shaken by his fall, he could make no effective resistance, and he was dragged a few yards through the bush and flung into a wagon51. He tried to pull the jacket from his face, and failed; somebody brutally52 beat him down against the side of the vehicle when he struggled to get up. He heard a whip crack, the wagon swayed and jolted53, and he knew the team was starting at a gallop.
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1
sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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resinous
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| adj.树脂的，树脂质的，树脂制的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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7
streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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8
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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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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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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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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besieged
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| 包围，围困，围攻( besiege的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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compartment
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| n.卧车包房，隔间；分隔的空间 | |
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colonist
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| n.殖民者，移民 | |
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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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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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20
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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22
constables
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| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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furrows
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| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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29
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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daunting
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| adj.使人畏缩的 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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depredations
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| n.劫掠，毁坏( depredation的名词复数 ) | |
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deport
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| vt.驱逐出境 | |
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offenders
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| n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 )；犯规者；罪犯；妨害…的人（或事物） | |
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specified
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| adj.特定的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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42
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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43
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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46
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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47
ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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48
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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49
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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50
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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51
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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52
brutally
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| adv.残忍地，野蛮地，冷酷无情地 | |
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53
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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