The Secret of the Reef Part 10

"Fis.h.i.+ng? That doesn't sound very exciting."

They sat down where an opening in the pines gave them a view of climbing forests and sparkling sound, and Aynsley lighted a cigarette.

"That's what they seemed to be doing, but I've had my suspicions about it since. If they caught anything, it would be a long way from a market, and, though they were dirty and ragged enough, two of them hadn't the look of regular fishermen. One rather amusing fellow was very much of the kind you'd meet at a sporting club, and the other had the stamp of a navy or first-cla.s.s mailboat man. He was English."

Ruth looked up quickly. Jimmy had often been in her thoughts since she had last seen him; although, as he had shown no anxiety to avail himself of her invitation, she had made no inquiries about him. Osborne, however, had visited Vancouver, and, seeing the vessel at the wharf, had inquired about Farquhar and learned that he had left the s.h.i.+p on her previous voyage. Ruth resented his silence, but she could not forget him.

"What was the man like?" she asked.

"Which of them?"

"The last one; the navy man." She found it slightly embarra.s.sing to answer the question.

Aynsley gave her a keen glance.

"So far as I can recollect, he had light hair, and his eyes were a darker blue than you often see; about my age, I think, and unmistakably a sailor, but he had a smart look and the stamp of command. Do you know anybody like that?"

Ruth did not answer with her usual frankness; although she did not doubt that this was the second mate with whom she had spent many evenings on the big liner's saloon deck.

"Oh, of course, we met several steamboat officers, and they're much of a type," she answered in an indifferent tone.

Aynsley saw that she was on her guard. Girls, he understood, often had a partiality for mailboat officers who were generally men of prepossessing appearance and manners. However, he kept his thoughts to himself, for he was usually diffident with Ruth. Although he had long admired her, he knew that he would not gain anything by an attempt to press his suit.

"Anyway," he said, "they were pleasant fellows, and seemed to be having a hard time. Between the ice and gales and fog, it's by no means a charming neighborhood."

"Wasn't it on one of those islands that my father was wrecked, and lost the gold he was bringing down?"

"Somewhere about there. Islands are plentiful in the North." Aynsley paused and laughed. "Still, as my respected parent had some interest in the gold, I shouldn't imagine they lost much. Losing things is not a habit of his. I believe he had a share in the vessel, too."

"But she went down."

"That wouldn't matter. The underwriters would have an opportunity for paying up-probably rather more than she was worth. Considering my parentage, it's curious I have no business talent."

"Your father and mine have had dealings for a long time, haven't they?"

"They have stood by each other for a good many years. It looks as if you and I were destined to be friends; but I sometimes think you don't understand just what your friends.h.i.+p is to me."

"Of course, we are good friends," Ruth said carelessly; "but you have plenty others."

"I have a host of acquaintances; but you're different from the rest.

That doesn't sound very original, but it's what I feel. There's an intangible something that's very fine about you; something rare and old-fas.h.i.+oned that belongs more to the quiet corners of the New England States than to our mushroom cities. It comes of long and careful cultivation, and isn't to be found in places that spring up in a night."

"Both my father's and my mother's people lived frugally in a very provincial Eastern town."

"It proves my point. I know the kind of place: a 'Sleepy Hollow,' where nothing happens that hasn't happened in the same way before, left as it was when the tide of American life poured West across the plains. One can imagine your mother's people being bound by old traditions and clinging to the customs of more serious days. That, I think, is how you got your gracious calm, your depth of character, and a sweetness I've found in no one else."

Ruth rose with a smiling rebuke, and firmly turned the conversation into another channel.

"Yes, I know," Aynsley said despondently. "I'm not to talk like that.

When I play the good-natured idiot people applaud, but they put me down smartly when I speak the truth."

"You are never in the least idiotic," Ruth smiled. "But if you are to cross the hills before dark, it's time we gave you something to eat."

He turned to her, half resigned and half indignant.

"Oh, well! If the auto jumps a bushman's bridge or goes down into a gulch, you'll be sorry you snubbed me."

"We won't antic.i.p.ate anything so direful," Ruth responded; then, with a sudden change of tone, she added: "Take that post in your father's mill, Aynsley; I think you ought."

He studied her a moment and then made a sign of a.s.sent.

"All right! I'll do it," he said.

An hour later she watched him start the car, and then sat down among the pines to think, for there were questions which required an answer.

Aynsley was very likable. Beyond that she did not go. Her thoughts turned to Farquhar, and she wondered why she so resented his dropping out of sight. She knew little about him, but she could not forget the evenings when they leaned on the rails together as the great s.h.i.+p went steadily across the moonlit sea. Now, for she believed he was the man Aynsley had met, he was in the desolate North, and she wondered what he was doing there, and what perils he had to face. It cost her an effort to banish him from her mind; but there was another question which had aroused her curiosity. How had her father spent the years when she was in her aunt's care, before he had grown rich? He had told her nothing about his struggles, but she must ask. Sometimes he looked careworn and she could give him better sympathy if it were based on understanding.

And how had his riches been gained, so quickly? Ruth had the utmost confidence in her father, which even her aunt's doubts could not shake; nevertheless, she resolved to question him.

CHAPTER IX-THE MINE AT SNOWY CREEK

Osborne was sitting on his veranda one hot evening while Ruth reclined in a basket-chair, glancing at him thoughtfully. Of late she had felt that she did not know her father as well as she ought: there was a reserve about him which she had failed to penetrate. He had treated her with indulgent kindness and had humored her every wish since she came to him; but before that there had been a long interval, during which he had sent her no word, and these years had obviously left their mark on him.

She felt compa.s.sionate and somewhat guilty. So far, she had been content to be petted and made much of, taking all and giving nothing. It was time there should be a change.

Osborne was of medium height and spare figure, and slightly lame in one foot. On the whole, his appearance was pleasing; though he was not of the type his daughter a.s.sociated with the successful business man. There was a hint of imaginative dreaminess in his expression, and his face was seamed with lines and wrinkles that spoke of troubles borne, Ruth had heard him described as headstrong and romantic in his younger days, but he was now philosophically acquiescent, and marked by somewhat ironical humor. She wondered what stern experiences had extinguished his youthful fire.

"Aynsley was talking to me a few days ago," she said. "I understand that he means to take charge of the Canadian mill."

"Then I suppose you applauded his decision. In fact, I wonder whether he arrived at it quite una.s.sisted? The last time Clay mentioned the matter he told me the young fool didn't seem able to make up his mind."

Ruth grew somewhat uneasy beneath his amused glance. Her father was shrewd, and she was not prepared to acknowledge that she had influenced Aynsley.

"But don't you think Aynsley's right?" she asked.

"Oh, yes; in a sense. We admire industrial enterprise, and on the whole that's good; but I've sometimes thought that our bush ranchers and prospectors, who, while a.s.sisting in it, keep a little in advance of civilized progress, show sound judgment. It's no doubt proper to turn the beauty of our country into money and deface it with mining dumps and factory stacks; but our commercial system's responsible for a good deal of ugliness, moral and physical."

The girl was accustomed to his light irony, and was sometimes puzzled to determine how far he was serious.

"But you are a business man," she said.

"That's true. I've suffered for it; but it doesn't follow that our methods are much better because I've practised them."

"Where did you first meet Aynsley's father?" Ruth asked. She preferred personal to abstract topics.

Osborne smiled reminiscently.