Since a letter might not reach him for some time, she had better write at once, and she got some paper and began. It was easy to write to Thirlwell, and she told him about the lame man who had broken into the house, before she came to Stormont's offer. Indeed, when she stopped she was surprised to see how much she had said. After fastening the envelope she got up and went to the window, where she drew the thick curtain behind her and looked out.
The moon was higher up the sky and the roofs glittered in the silver light. Half the street lay in shadow, a belt of grayish blue, but the rest sparkled where the sleigh-shoes had run. A sleigh came up with a load of girls and young men in blanket-coats and furs. They seemed to be talking and laughing, but Agatha no longer envied them; the depression she had felt had gone. Then as the sleigh went past with a chime of bells she tried to follow her letter on its journey to the North.
After it left the railroad it would lie in a pack on a half-breed's shoulders, or perhaps in a skin bag on a hand-sledge, in front of which men with snowshoes marched. It would travel up winding rivers between dark walls of ragged pines, across frozen lakes, and among the rocks on high divides. Then the tired men would stop at a cluster of shacks beside a shaft and an ore-dump in the wilds, and she wondered what Thirlwell would think when he opened the envelope; whether he would be pleased or not.
But this was indulging idle sentiment that she had meant to avoid, and she went back to the table and opened her books. Thirlwell's answer would not arrive for some weeks, and if she went north, summer would come before she could start. In the meantime, she had her pupils to teach. The subject for the next morning's lesson was difficult and needed careful study.
Chapter X—Thirlwell Gets A Letter
A dreary wind wailed about the shack, and now and then the iron roof cracked as it shrank and wrenched its fastenings in the bitter cold. The room was not warm, although the front of the stove glowed a bright red, and after supper Thirlwell pulled his chair between it and the wall. He had been out for some hours with snowshoe and rifle, but had seen nothing to shoot. The white desolation was empty of life, and silent except for the wind among the pine-tops.
"I'd meant to look into the Snake Creek muskegs, but the cold drove me back," he said. "In summer one's bitten by sand-flies and mosquitoes; in winter one runs some risk of freezing to death. I wonder now and then whether mining's worth the hardship and why we stop here."
"Unprofitable mining isn't logically worth much hardship," Scott remarked. "But don't you mean you wonder why you came back?"