Conacher jumped up, and paced the grass in an agony of indecision. He was teetering on the brink. If Loseis had raised her eyes to his face, he would have fallen at her feet, and allowed the government to go to the devil. But she kept her eyes sullenly down. And then before either spoke again, with a smart thudding of hoofs and creaking of saddle leathers, a well-turned out company of six men and several spare horses came down the trail behind the Post, and trotted out into the little plaza.
Gault had caught sight of Conacher’s yellow head as soon as he came over the brow of the hill. He reined up sharply, his face going pinched and ugly. “A white man here!” he said furiously to Moale. “Who the devil can he be?”
Moale drew up at his side. “That will be Conacher,” he said in his unconcerned way. “I have heard talk of his yellow head.”
“A young man!” said Gault; and cursed him thickly and fervently.
“He’s on a government survey down to Great Slave Lake and beyond,” said Moale indifferently. “He won’t be able to interfere with us.”
But Gault rode down the hill with a black heart. The young man had got in his innings first; and now fifty-three must stand comparison with twenty-three, and the dyed black head be measured against the famous golden one.
By the time he rode around the buildings of the Post his face was perfectly composed and solicitous, of course. He sat his horse with conscious grace. Flinging himself off, he tossed the reins to one of the Crees, and came quickly to Loseis.
“Miss Blackburn,” he said, “the moment I heard of your terrible loss I jumped on my horse to come to you. I cannot express to you how shocked and grieved I am. Your father and I were not good friends, but that is all past now. Believe me, I am most completely at your service.”
The watching Conacher considered that this was very handsomely said. How much better than he could do it! he thought with a sigh. He had no reason to share in Loseis’ suspicions of Gault. A load was lifted from the young man’s heart. Gault’s fine outfit inspired confidence. Loseis would be all right now, and he could go on about his work. But before he left he would ask her to wait for him. The idea that this old man might prove to be a rival, never entered Conacher’s honest heart.