"But Bob goes to Kelshope, and Mr. Jardine suggested my hiring him."
"My father's a bushman," said Margaret, rather dryly. "His habit's not to get stung; but we'll let it go. What about your chickens?"
Jimmy had sent for some poultry, and so long as Margaret was willing to stop, he was satisfied to talk about his flock. Sometimes the bush was lonely and to sit opposite Margaret had charm. She banished the loneliness and gave his rude fireside a homely touch. By and by, however, she got up.
"I have stopped some time and you ought to get busy."
She would not take his help to mount. She seized the bridle, stroked the cayuse, and was in the saddle. The horse plunged into the fern, Margaret waved her hand and vanished, but for a few minutes Jimmy smoked and pondered.
He thought Margaret harmonized with the quiet, austere woods, but although she talked like a bush girl, he wondered whether she had not done so in order to baffle him. Anyhow, he hoped she would come back and cook his breakfast another time. He could not see Laura Stannard beating up dough for flapjacks by his fire. Laura's proper background was an English drawing-room. She had grace and charm, and on the hotel terrace Jimmy was keen about her society. Then Laura was a good sort and he owed her much; the strange thing was, although she had stated he ought to follow a useful occupation, she did not approve his ranching experiment. In fact, she had urged him to go back to the cotton mill. Jimmy admitted he was rather hurt because she was willing for him to go. Now, however, her picture began to get indistinct. The bush called and Laura did not harmonize with the woods.
Then Jimmy remembered Margaret had brought him some letters and when he pulled out an envelope with an Indian stamp, his look was anxious. Sir James, however, stated that his London agents would send a check on a Canadian bank, and when Jimmy wanted to stock his ranch his bills would be met. Sir James remarked that to buy cattle was better than to bet on horses that did not win, and chopping trees was not, by contrast with some other amusements, very expensive. Moreover, if Jimmy got tired, he could sell the ranch. He added that he was presently going to Japan and afterwards to England by the Canadian Pacific line. When he crossed Canada, he would stop and look his nephew up.
Jimmy liked his uncle's rather dry humor, and admitted that some of his remarks were justified, for when Jimmy went to the races his luck was bad, but he put the letter in his pocket and picked up his ax. For some time he had talked and smoked and, unless he hustled, the shingles he wanted would not be split by dark.