Carmen's Messenger Part 3

"In a mild way, the journey's something of an adventure," Carmen suggested. "Doesn't that appeal to a man?"

"It does," Foster agreed. "One might imagine that there was enough adventure here, but it really isn't so. The lone trail has a mineral claim at the end of it; you look forward to the elevator company's receipt when you break the new furrow. Hards.h.i.+p gets as monotonous as comfort; you want something fresh, a job, in fact, that you don't undertake for money. Of course, if you look at it economically, this is foolish."

"I like you better as a sentimentalist than a philosopher," Carmen answered. "It's the former one goes to when one wants things done.

However, if you would like a dance----"

She danced well and Foster knew there were men in the hall who envied him. He, moreover, imagined that Carmen knew it would be remarked that she had banished her other attendants and shown him special favor. This, of course, would not trouble her, because Carmen generally did what she pleased, but he felt inclined to wonder about her object. He knew her well enough to think she had an object. When the music stopped she said, "Now you may take me in to supper."

Supper was served in an ante-room, but, although this was contrary to local custom, the guests came in when they liked and were provided with small, separate tables. Instead of Foster's leading, Carmen guided him to a quiet nook, partly screened by cedar branches, where they could see without being seen. He thought it significant that a spot with such advantages should be unoccupied, but this did not cause him much surprise. Things generally happened as Carmen wanted, and it was a privilege to sup with the prettiest and cleverest girl in the hall.

"You are going to stay at Featherstone's home in England, aren't you?"

she asked by and by.

"Yes," said Foster, who wondered how she knew. "Since I've spent ten years on the plains and in the bush, it will be a rather embarra.s.sing change. You see, I'm better used to bachelor shacks and logging camps than English country houses."

Carmen firmly brought him back to the subject. "Do you know much about your partner's relatives? It's obvious that he belongs to a good family.

However, you'll have him with you."

Foster smiled. He did not mean to tell her that Featherstone was not going with him.

"I know nothing about them. In fact, my ignorance of the habits of a good family rather weighs on my mind."

Carmen gave him a level, critical glance. "They won't be able to find much fault with you, and if they did, you wouldn't guess it, so it wouldn't matter. But that is not what I meant. You have been Featherstone's partner for some time, and it's curious that he has told you nothing about his home."

"He's reserved," said Foster, who looked up as Daly came into the room with a laughing girl, at whom Carmen glanced somewhat coldly. "Do you know what that man is doing here?"

"I don't, but as he's agent for an engineering company, I dare say he's looking for orders. Hulton's are buying new plant."

"But he's often in your father's office and at your house, and Mr. Austin doesn't buy machines."

"Then perhaps he's speculating in building lots; we deal in them," Carmen rejoined with a laugh. "I sometimes meet my father's friends, but don't ask them about their business."

She went on with her supper, and Daly and his companion sat down not far off. The fellow was well dressed and on the whole a handsome man, though there was nothing about him to excite marked attention. He looked a little older than Foster, who studied him thoughtfully. Daly had sold one or two machines in the neighborhood of the Crossing, but the business he did there hardly seemed to warrant his visit. It was possible that he made it an excuse for watching Featherstone, but Foster fancied that Carmen knew more about him than she confessed.

"Perhaps you will visit Scotland before you come back," she said by and by.

"It's possible. Featherstone's relations live near the Border."

"Then I dare say you will take a packet for me to Edinburgh."

"Of course," said Foster, who felt some surprise, and thought Carmen saw this although she looked at him gratefully.

"I know you'll take care of it, and you don't ask questions; but you wonder why I want to send it by you. Well, the girls are inquisitive in our post office, and I'm sending the packet to a man. Besides, I wouldn't like it damaged, and things sometimes get broken in the mail."

Foster said this often happened and hinted that the man was fortunate, but Carmen laughed.

"Oh," she said, "he's as old as my father; we have friends in the Old Country. But there really is a little secret about the matter, and I don't want anybody but you to see the packet."

"Very well; but I believe the Customs searchers, who examine your baggage, are sometimes officious. They might think I was trying to smuggle and make me open the thing."

"No; they wouldn't suspect you. You have such a careless and innocent look. For all that, your friends know you can be trusted."

"Thank you! I suppose I'm lucky, because one meets people whose looks are against them. Anyhow, I'll take the packet, and if necessary, protect it with my life."

"It won't be necessary," Carmen answered, smiling. Although she talked about other matters for some minutes before she told him to take her back to the hall, he imagined this was tactful politeness and she did not want to dismiss him too soon after obtaining her object.

He danced one or two dances with other partners and enjoyed them keenly.

His work was finished for the winter, and after the strenuous toil of the last ten years, it was a new and exhilarating experience to feel at liberty. Then there was no reason he should deny himself the pleasure he expected to derive from his trip. Their small mill was only adapted for the supply of certain kinds of lumber, for which there was now not much demand, and they had not enough money to remodel it, while business would not get brisk again until the spring.

By and by he went to the smoking-room and lighting a cigarette, thought over what Carmen had said to him. At first she had seemed anxious to find out something about Featherstone, but he was not surprised by this.

Carmen liked to know as much as possible about everybody she met, and used her knowledge cleverly when it was to her advantage. The other matter was more puzzling and he wondered why she wanted to send a packet secretly to a man as old as her father. It might, of course, be a caprice, because girls were fond of mystery, but, as a rule, Carmen had a practical object for what she did. She had stated that they had friends in England, and this might mean that she had a lover. Perhaps she had exaggerated his age, and in any case, Foster thought it would not be a great drawback, if the man were rich. Carmen was rather ambitious than romantic.

Her plans, however, were not his business, and he felt no jealousy. He liked Carmen and had some respect for her abilities, but thought he would sooner not marry her, even if she were willing, which was most improbable. Since he had promised to take the packet, he would do so and say nothing about the matter.

He left the hall early, and driving home found his partner sitting by the stove.

"Was Daly at the reunion?" Featherstone asked.

Foster said he was there, and Featherstone resumed thoughtfully: "It's curious he hasn't come to the mill yet, but if he doesn't turn up before Thursday, he'll be too late. I'll be ready to start with you by the afternoon train, and as there's no use in spoiling a good plan for a few dollars, I'll buy a ticket and check my baggage to Ottawa. Then I'll get off at Streeton Creek, where I won't have long to wait if the west-bound train's on time. You can express my things on from Ottawa. The Montreal express stops about an hour."

"That ought to throw Daly off the track," Foster agreed, and they talked about something else.

IV

THE FIRST ADVENTURE

It was about ten o'clock at night and the Montreal express sped through the lonely forest of North Ontario. The train was light, for there were few pa.s.sengers on board, and the road was by no means good, but in spite of the jolting Foster enjoyed his cigarette in a corner of the smoking compartment at the end of a car. A colored porter had told him his berth in the sleeper was ready, Featherstone had left the train, and most of the pa.s.sengers were already in bed, but Foster did not want to follow them just yet. For a time, he had done with business, and was on his way to England. He relished the unusual sense of freedom.

A half-moon shone down upon the rugged wilderness, and he could see the black pines rush past. The cars lurched and he heard the great locomotive snort on the inclines. Now and then there was a roar as they sped across a bridge, and water glimmered among the rocks below; afterwards the roar sank into a steady clatter and a soothing throb of wheels. The car was warm, and Foster, who had given the porter his overcoat, was lighting another cigarette when a man came in and sat down opposite. He looked hard at Foster, who quietly returned his gaze. The man was about his own height but some years older, and his expression was disturbed.

Foster felt interested. He had faced danger in the northern wilderness, where he had risked starvation and traveled on frozen rivers when the ice was breaking up. Besides, he had once or twice been involved in savage fights about disputed mining claims, and knew how men looked when they bore a heavy strain. He thought the stranger was afraid but was not a coward.

"You're going to Ottawa, aren't you? I heard you talking to your friend," said the man.

"I'm going to Montreal, but don't see what that has to do with you."

The other made a sign of impatience. "Well, I dare say you can be trusted, and I've got to take a risk."

"It is a risk to trust a man you don't know," Foster rejoined. "But how can I help?"

"I want you to put on my coat and cap, and stay here, reading the _Witness_, for about ten minutes."

"Holding the newspaper in front of my face, I suppose? Well, it's rather an unusual request and I must know a little more. If there's a detective on your trail and you expect me to hold his attention while you hide or try to jump off the train, I must refuse."

The stranger smiled. "I've wired for the police to meet me at Ottawa; the trouble is that I mayn't get there. Time won't allow of a long explanation, but there are men on board who'd stop at nothing to prevent my arrival. In fact, to some extent, I'm putting my life in your hands."