Partners of the Out-Trail Part 16

Carrie gave him supper and when he joined the other men Jim opened the packet. In the evening they had leisure for rest and talk, and after the strain and bustle of the day, Jim enjoyed the quiet hour. The air got sharp when the sun sank, the fire they gathered round drove back the creeping shadows, and the pungent smoke kept the mosquitoes off.

Sometimes he bantered Carrie and sometimes lounged in contented quietness, watching her while she sewed. Carrie was generally occupied.

"How is your mother getting on?" he asked when she put down the letter he had given her.

Carrie smiled. "She is getting on very well. My cousin keeps store satisfactorily, and I don't know if I'm pleased or not. It's nice to feel you're wanted and people miss you when you're gone."

"If there's much comfort in the thought, you are certainly wanted here."

"The trouble is, one's friends often say what they think one would like to know," Carrie rejoined. "I'm not sure I'd have minded much if mother had owned that Belle breaks things and sometimes forgets how many cents go to the dollar when she makes up a bill. S'pose I'm mean, but Belle does break things."

"You are never mean and I was quite sincere."

"Perhaps you found new b.u.t.tons on your overalls and that accounted for something."

Jim half consciously moved his hand to his jacket and then stopped.

"I'm afraid I didn't know the b.u.t.tons were there. After all, it ought to persuade you of my sincerity."

"Sometimes I'm not certain if you are nice or not. But is there anything important in your letters?"

"One or two people want to know when we mean to pay our bills; I'm sorry we can't satisfy their curiosity just yet. Then there's a letter from Baumstein. He'll give us an extra five hundred dollars for the Bluebird."

"Ah!" said Carrie. "It's strange he makes the offer when we need money so!"

"It is strange," Jake broke in. "Almost looks as if the fellow knew how we were fixed. But we're not sellers, and, for a clever crook, Baumstein is too keen."

"He states he has reached his limit and we won't get another chance,"

Jim remarked.

Jake pondered and then resumed: "The thing's puzzling. I can't see why Baumstein's fixed on buying a claim that n.o.body else wants, but you can reckon it a sure snap for him when he makes a deal. There's the puzzle! The ore is pretty good, but that's all. We were kind of disappointed by the a.s.say. The specimens looked better than the a.n.a.lysis proved."

"I was certainly disappointed and surprised," Jim agreed. "Suppose we ask the prospector about it? He has tested a good many mineral claims."

They waited until the prospector returned to the camp, when Jake gave him some bits of broken rock.

"Feel those and tell me what you think about the metal they carry," he said.

The other examined the specimens and weighed them in his hand.

"If you've got much rock like that, it's a pretty good claim."

"Do you reckon the stuff would come up to a.s.say?" Jake asked, giving him the a.n.a.lyst's report.

The prospector looked at him rather hard. "Come up to a.s.say? If the bulk's like these specimens, it ought to pan out better than the figures show."

He stated his grounds for believing this, and Jake knitted his brows.

"I expect you know the big mining men and what they're doing. Have you heard if Baumstein is looking for Northern copper?"

"He bought a claim called the Darien not long since."

Jim smiled. "The Darien? The next block to ours, but the vein begins to peter out before it crosses their boundary."

"When Baumstein gets the next block, you want to sell him your lot or watch out," the prospector rejoined. "If he can't buy you up, he'll make trouble for you. I reckon he knew what kind of ore the Darien boys had got."

"Yes," said Jim, "I imagined something like that."

He said no more about the mine, and next morning the prospector resumed his journey. After this, for a week or two, nothing broke the monotony of their strenuous toil, until one day Martin and his packers arrived.

"I'm going down to the settlements and thought I'd strike your camp and stop a night," he said. "The woods get lonesome, and your line's a pretty good route to the pack trail."

Jim was somewhat surprised, but he took Martin to Jake and went to tell Carrie.

"I wanted to see that man and you had better leave him to me," she said. "To begin with, I'll give him the best supper I know how to cook. Get busy and fix the fire while I see what we've got that's extra nice."

"If you get after him, he's bound to give in," Jim remarked. "However, I want you to study the fellow and tell me what you think."

"Then you would trust my judgment?"

"Of course. In many ways, it's as good as ours."

Carrie laughed. "Sometimes," she said, "you're very modest, Jim."

Martin ate a remarkably good supper and afterwards talked to Carrie with obvious satisfaction. Like the most part of the men who venture much in the wilds, he was marked by a grave quietness, but he had for all that a touch of humor. By and by he turned to Jim and asked: "How are you getting on? Have you struck fresh trouble since I saw you?"

Jim related his adventure at the rapid and Martin gave him a keen glance. "I reckon you had an object for telling me, but I don't quite get it. You think I hired the man who sent down the log, or you know I didn't."

"He knows you didn't," Carrie declared.

"Thank you," said Martin. "I imagine what you say goes at this camp."

"Some way. I belong to the firm."

"It goes all the way," said Jim. "I often think Miss Winter is really the head of the firm."

Martin's eyes twinkled. "Well, you're both making good; I've been looking at the line you've cleared, and I've not often struck a supper like this in the bush. Makes me feel I want to fire my cook." Then his tone got grave. "Anyhow, I had nothing to do with wrecking your canoes and don't think the freighter had. You see, I sometimes hire Somas; he'll put the screw to you if he reckons you can be bluffed, but he's not a crook."

"Then we can rule him out," said Carrie. "I imagine you don't make mistakes."

"Making mistakes about trusting folks sometimes costs you high," Martin remarked. He looked at her thoughtfully and then smiled. "One could trust you all the time."

"Well," said Carrie, "I suppose I gave you a lead, but there's no use in our trying who could be nicest, because I'd certainly beat you. I expect you don't often try and it's a girl's business."

In the meantime, Jim had studied both. He thought he knew Carrie's worth, but somehow the other's approval made it plainer. Although Martin's humorous frankness jarred, Jim recognized its note of sincerity. On the whole, he liked Martin, but he would sooner Carrie did not play up to the fellow. By and by Martin turned to him.

"When I was last at Vancouver a man called Mordaunt asked some questions about you."

"Mordaunt?" said Jim, with a puzzled look.

"He stopped at your telegraph shack."