CHAPTER XIV
THE RECKONING
When the line reached the settlement Jim and his party returned to Vancouver. Shortly after their arrival Martin came to see them.
"I've been in town some time, and seeing a notice in the Colonist that you had finished the job, thought I'd like to tell you I was glad," he said.
Carrie thanked him and by and by he asked: "Have you had a fresh offer from Baumstein for your copper claim?"
Jim said they had not and Martin smiled. "I reckon the offer will arrive, and now he knows you have got your pay he'll put up his price."
"If it does arrive, we won't reply," said Carrie, firmly.
"I don't know if that's a good plan," Martin remarked. "Baumstein will offer about half as much as he's willing to give, but I'd take hold and negotiate until I thought he'd reached his limit. It will be under what the claim is worth. Then I'd go along and try the Combine."
"Would they buy?" Jim asked.
"Go and see. Although Baumstein's pretty smart, he doesn't know they're quietly investing in Northern copper; I do. There's another thing; if you have got specimens, send some for assay to a different man."
Jim pondered. The analysis of the ore was not as good as he had expected and the miner who had examined the specimens at his camp agreed. For all that, assayers were generally honest and skillful.
"What's the matter with the man I went to?" he asked.
"He's sometimes soused and you can't trust a tanker. Then he's extravagant."
"Ah," said Jim. "Is that all?"
Martin gave him a dry smile. "I happen to know Baumstein lent him money. It's possible he meant to get value for a risky loan."
The others said nothing, but they saw the significance of the hint and Jim's face got stern.
"There's something else," Martin resumed. "Davies has left me and gone back to Baumstein."
"Gone back?" Jake exclaimed.
"Sure," said Martin, quietly. "I didn't know he'd worked for the fellow when I hired him. Now I've a notion he's been Baumstein's man, not mine, all the time."
Jim clenched his fist and Carrie's eyes sparkled. "We're up against a poisonous crook," she said, and looked at Jim. "You see why he made us trouble? He wanted to break us, so we'd sell him the Bluebird cheap."
"It's pretty plain. All the same, I don't see what I ought to do about it. Martin's plan doesn't quite meet the bill: I'd sooner try something a little more vigorous."
Carrie shook her head. "You mustn't be a fool! The best way to play that kind of man is to use him. When he finds out it will hurt most."
Jim hesitated. He remembered the blow they had got at the beginning of the struggle and all that Carrie had borne. Baumstein's plot had drained their resources and made her suffer.
"Martin's plan is best; you must agree," she urged.
"Very well," said Jim. "Jake can see the fellow and begin the negotiations; I'll come in afterwards. Jake's something of a philosopher, but I'd probably spoil the plot if I met Baumstein before I cool."
Martin gave them some useful advice and then went away, and a few days afterwards Baumstein sent a message. Jake played his part well; indulging the other's pretended indifference and arguing for better terms. Sometimes he seemed on the point of yielding, and then on his next visit found grounds for delay. At length, when Baumstein was getting impatient, Jake took Jim to the office.
Baumstein occupied a revolving chair in front of a fine hard wood desk, and gave the others a sharp glance as they came in. The office was very well furnished and Baumstein wore fashionable clothes. There was a fine diamond in his ring. This annoyed Jim, who knew that while hard-bitten prospectors braved the risks of starvation on the snowy trail, greedy company-floaters often got the reward.
"I hope you have come to clinch the deal," Baumstein remarked. "I've met your partner as far as I can, but the bargaining has gone on long enough."
"Then you can't raise your price?" Jim asked.
Baumstein studied him. Winter had been compliant and apparently anxious to sell, but there was something puzzling about his partner. Baumstein got a hint of sternness that he did not like. For all that, bluff paid when one dealt with poor men.
"No," he replied, dryly. "Your partner has raised me to my limit and I've got to stop. You can agree right now or quit."
"Oh, well," said Jim. "If you have gone as far as you are able——. May I use your telephone?"
"Certainly," said Baumstein, and when Jim, picking up the instrument on the desk, called the exchange, suddenly straightened himself. He knew the number for which Jim asked.
"Winter and Dearham," said the latter. "Mr. Lamson? All right; I'll come along and fix things. We'll record the transfer when you like."
Baumstein swung round his chair and his face got red.
"What's that you told Lamson? What does it mean?"
"It means I've sold the Bluebird claim."
"Then, you have been negotiating with the Combine all the time? Why in thunder did you come to me?"
"For one thing, we wanted to find out how much you would bid. It would be safe to ask another party more than you would give. We didn't know how much we ought to get."
Baumstein clenched his fist. "You used me for a base to bluff from; reckoning you'd fall back on me if you couldn't put it over?"
"No," said Jim. "We didn't mean to deal with you at all. You helped us get a proper price; that was your job."
They looked at one another, with mouths set hard, and then Baumstein broke out: "You swine!"
"Stop there," said Jim, with ominous quietness. "I'm back from using the ax in the bush and feel very fit. To put you out of your office would give me the keenest satisfaction and would be cheaper than getting after you through the court."
"Shucks!" exclaimed Baumstein. "What are you giving me?"
"I reckon you know. You put Davies on our track; he broke the line, and sent a log down on our canoes. He's smart and both plots worked before we found him out. But we did find him out."
Baumstein hesitated, wondering how much was supposition and how much Jim really knew.
"You'll be blamed foolish if you go to law with a tale like that."
"We don't propose to bother, because I think we're even. You helped us sell our claim and the Combine know what you were willing to pay. We raised them some; one could take it for granted you wouldn't reach just value."
"You told them what I offered?" Baumstein shouted.
"We did," Jim said, smiling. "I expect they got a useful hint. In fact, if you want to control Northern copper, you had better get busy. It looks as if the Combine were on your track." He paused and beckoned Jake. "Well, perhaps there's enough said. We mustn't keep you."
They went off and left Baumstein sitting very still with his fist clenched.
A few days afterwards, Jim and Jake waited for Carrie one evening on the veranda at the store. Mrs. Winter had refused to sell the business, but Jake had engaged extra help and they had arranged for a long holiday. The store, standing back from the rough board sidewalk, was small and shabby; the street was torn by transfer-wagon wheels. A Chinese laundry and a pool-room occupied the other side. Sawmill refuse and empty coal-oil cans had been dumped in a neighboring vacant lot. Mean frame houses ran on from the store, some surrounded by a narrow yard, and some with verandas covered by mosquito gauze so that they looked like meat-safes. The neighborhood was strangely unattractive, but one could see the sparkling Inlet and the dark forest that rolled back to the shining snow.
Jim, sitting in an old rocking-chair, was quietly satisfied. After taking Mrs. Winter and Carrie to lunch at a smart hotel, he had loafed about the city without feeling bored. It was nice to know he had nothing to do and had money to spend. In fact, he had relished a novel enjoyment when he visited some shops and bought presents for his hosts without thinking what they cost. Now he languidly looked back on the years that had gone so quickly since his parents died. They were strenuous years, marked by hardship, toil, and adventure, for Jim had not known monotonous quietness. Even when he studied at McGill, he had worked between the terms in order to pay the fees. Afterwards, finding no field for such talent as he had, he had sold his labor where he could. He had seen much and learned much, but he was young and had a curious feeling that there were fresh experiences in store. By and by he banished the memories and looked at Jake.
"I smile when I think about the time I hit Martin's camp, pretty hungry and ragged, and got after him about his sending Davies on our track," he said.
Jake laughed. "After all, I guess you took a useful line. Made him feel he'd got to show us he wasn't a crook."
"Why did he want to show us? What we thought wouldn't matter a hill of beans."
"The fellow's white," Jake replied.
"Martin is white," Jim agreed, looking at Jake rather hard. "We were getting pretty near the rocks when he gave us a lift."
Jake nodded. When their money was very low after the fire, Martin had suggested an arrangement that had worked for the benefit of all. Jake hoped his comrade would be satisfied with his vague assent, but doubted.
"Why did he help?" Jim resumed. "The profit he got wasn't worth his bothering about."
"If you mean to know, I reckon he thought Carrie would like it."
"Ah," said Jim, frowning, "I suspected something like this! Well, we owe Martin much, but I'd sooner not think we let him give us a lift for your sister's sake. You ought to have refused."
"I didn't know. The thing's got obvious since."
"But you know now?"
"Yes," said Jake, "my notion is, Carrie could marry him when she liked."
"Do you think she sees it?"
Jake smiled. "Carrie's not a fool. If you and I see it, the thing is pretty plain. All the same, I imagine she is quietly freezing him off."
Jim was conscious of a rather puzzling satisfaction. "Martin's a good sort and he's rich; but there's no reason Carrie should take the first good man who comes along," he said. "She ought to get the very best. However, it's not my business and I don't know if it's yours."
"It's Carrie's," said Jake, rather dryly. "She's generally able to manage her affairs. In fact, I allow she was successful when she managed ours——"
He stopped, for the door opened and Carrie came out. She held a newspaper and looked excited.
"You had better read this advertisement, Jim," she said.
Jim saw the newspaper was printed at Montreal two years before. He glanced at the place Carrie indicated, started, and then looked straight in front.
"How did you get the thing?" he asked after a moment or two.
"Mother bought some old paper for packing. She took this piece just now to light the stove and saw the notice. But are you the man they want?"
"Yes," said Jim, quietly. "Franklin Dearham was my father."
Jake picked up the newspaper and they were silent for a few moments. Then Carrie asked: "What are you going to do about it?"
"To begin with, I'll write to the lawyers at Montreal," said Jim, who knitted his brows. "After that I don't know. The advertisement is cautious, but it looks as if Joseph Dearham was dead. I don't think my father expected to inherit his property. It's puzzling."
"Was Joseph Dearham rich?" Jake asked.
"He had some land and money and the old house at Langrigg. I've often thought about Langrigg, but I'd sooner the lawyers had left me alone."
"Why?"
"I've been happy in Canada. I've friends I trust, I'm making good, and don't want to be disturbed."
Carrie gave him a quick glance, but he went on: "Then we meant to take a holiday, and it looks as if I might be wanted in the Old Country."
"If you go, they may keep you."
"I feel I have got to go, although I don't like it," Jim replied with a puzzled look. "Something pulls and I resist. However, come along. We're going to the park."
They set off and Jim tried to talk. Carrie helped him and for a time they laughed and joked, but the jokes got flat and all were rather quiet when they went home. They felt a disturbing change was coming; things would not be the same. Next morning Jim wrote to the lawyers, who asked him to meet a member of the firm at Winnipeg. He grumbled and hesitated, but went and did not return for some time. On the evening after his arrival he and the others sat talking in a little room behind the store.
The room was cheaply furnished. The rough black pipe from the basement stove went up the middle and a threadbare rug covered half the floor. Mrs. Winter, looking worn and faded, occupied a rocking-chair. She was better dressed than when Jim first came to the house and he thought the rather expensive material had been chosen with taste. The quiet woman had a touch of dignity, although she wore the stamp of toil. Carrie, sitting opposite, had been occupied in the store all day and had refused to change her working clothes. Since Jim's return was something of an event, Mrs. Winter was puzzled by her obstinacy.
"I'm glad to be back," Jim remarked. "Winnipeg is a fine city, but I feel Vancouver's home."
Mrs. Winter smiled, but the look Carrie gave Jim was half ironical.
"You are glad to get back here? After stopping at a big hotel!"
"I am glad. The hotel was crowded and never quiet. They had noisy electric elevators that went up and down all night, and it wasn't much better when I dined at smart restaurants. Thought I'd find this amusing, but I didn't. Had to push for a place at the tables and the waiters were slow. I felt I wanted to hustle round with the plates."
"Sometimes you're rather clever, Jim," Carrie said, meaningly. "But I expect you liked the cooking."
"It was tolerable, but no food I've got was half as good as the trout and bannocks we picked out of the hot spider in a valley of the North. Then there's no drink as refreshing as the tea with the taste of wood smoke I drank from a blackened can."
"It didn't often taste of smoke," Carrie objected.
"Carrie can cook; she owes that to me," Mrs. Winter interposed. "She was ambitious when she was young and declared she had no use for studying things like that, but I was firm."
"I wonder whether she's ambitious now," Jim remarked.
"I've got wise," said Carrie. "I know where I belong."
Mrs. Winter looked at them as if she were puzzled, and Jim knitted his brows.
"I don't know where I belong. That's the trouble, because it may hurt to find out. But how have you been getting on while I was away?"
"Trade's pretty good, thank you," Carrie replied. "We have sold as much sweet truck as I could bake. The groceries have kept Belle hustling."
"Shucks!" said Jim, impatiently, and turned to Jake. "You ought to make your mother sell out."
"He tried," said Mrs. Winter. "I won't sell. Jake has some money now, but he's not rich and may hit a streak of bad luck. My children must go out and fight for all they get, but I want them to know there's a little house in the home town where they can come back if they're hurt and tired. Besides, I've kept store so long I've got the habit. Anyhow, you have told us nothing about your business and we're curious."
"Jake and Carrie don't look curious," Jim remarked dryly. "Well, I went to the lawyer's room, mornings, and answered his questions, read the night-letters the Montreal office sent him, and waited for replies to their English cablegrams."
"But what did he say about your claim?"
"I don't know if it will interest your son and daughter, but I'll tell you. There are some formalities yet, but the fellow seems satisfied I'm Joseph Dearham's heir, and I'm going to England soon. Whether I'll stay or not is another thing. Well, we had arranged for a long holiday, and I don't mean to be cheated. I'm going to take you all to the Old Country."
Carrie colored, but Jake smiled. "Did you tell the lawyer about this plan?"
"I did not," said Jim, with a rather haughty look that Carrie thought was new. "Langrigg is mine. It's my pleasure to show it to my friends."
Mrs. Winter looked disturbed. "You are kind, Jim, but I'm an old woman and have never gone far from home. Your relations mightn't like me."
"I don't know yet if my relations will like me. Anyhow, they have got to approve my guests. I wanted you to sell the store, because, if I'm satisfied with Langrigg, you mayn't come back. There's no real difficulty about your coming. In fact, you have got to come."
Mrs. Winter hesitated, as if she were thinking hard, and then her gentle face got resolute. "Very well. I'd like Carrie to see the Old Country."
Jim turned to the others with a triumphant smile. "It's fixed. Your mother will need you, Carrie, and I'll need my partner. We have put over some hard jobs and I imagine I'm up against another now. I want you, Jake; you have got to see me out."
"Since I don't know your folks and their habits, it isn't plain how I could help," Jake replied.
"I don't know much. What about it? We made good prospecting when we had never used the rocker and thawn-out gravel. We graded the pack-trail across Snowy Range when we didn't know how to drill and start off giant-powder. Well, we're going to make good at Langrigg if I stay."
"Then I'll come, for a time," Jake agreed and looked at Carrie.
"I wouldn't like to be left alone," she said and smiled.
Jim was satisfied. He had carried out his plan and it was significant that Carrie was willing to go; if Martin had attracted her; she would sooner have remained behind. In a way, he thought it strange that Mrs. Winter, from whom he had expected most opposition, was the first to agree, but this was not important.
After a time they went to the Stanley park, where Jake and Mrs. Winter met somebody they knew. Carrie sat down on a bench under a giant fir and Jim lighted a cigarette.
"You and Jake rather puzzled me," he remarked. "You weren't curious; I'd a feeling that things were not the same."
Carrie gave him a steady look. "I'm afraid we were very mean—but there was a difference. You were one of us when you went away; you came back an English landowner."
"Ah," said Jim, "I think I see! You wanted to give me a chance to drop you? Did you think I would?"
"No," said Carrie, blushing. "But it was possible. Cutting the line was different; it was a business proposition." She paused and added with a hint of regret: "It's finished now."
"Sometimes I think you're sorry."
Carrie said nothing and he went on: "Was Jake's throwing up his job and bringing me down from the shack a business proposition? Your nursing me and our long talks by the camp fire? Did you think I could forget these things? Did you want me to forget?"
She looked up, with some color in her face. "Not in a way, Jim, but we took the proper line. We felt you ought to have a chance to let us go."
"And now I hope you're satisfied, since you have found out I'm not as shabby as you thought."
"Oh, well," said Carrie, smiling, "I suppose we do feel some satisfaction."
Then Jake and Mrs. Winter returned and they went to the Canadian Pacific station, where Jim asked about the steamship sailings.