XXV
FOSTER SETS OFF AGAIN
After dinner the party returned to the veranda, which was warm and welllighted. Mrs. Stephen resumed her sewing, Lawrence settled himselfcomfortably in his big chair, and Foster engaged Lucy in careless talk.She had a pleasant voice and pretty, animated gestures, and after thestrain he had borne there was a charm in relaxing and lazily enjoyingthe society of an attractive girl. The trouble was that he could notbe careless long. Lawrence was inclined to put off disagreeablethings, and would no doubt sooner leave disturbing subjects alone; butFoster had only kept half his promise to Alice and time that might bevaluable was being lost.
"Your adventure made an interesting story, Lawrence, but you tookunusual trouble to make us understand all that happened," he said atlength.
Lawrence's gesture hinted at humorous resignation. "You're a restlessfellow, Jake, but I hoped you'd wait until to-morrow. You see, I'vebeen warned to keep quiet."
Foster looked at Lucy and imagined that he had her support; she nodoubt knew his comrade's weakness for procrastination.
"I'll try not to disturb you much," he replied.
"Then you and Lucy insisted on my relating the thing at length. I feltI had to indulge you."
Lucy's smile hinted that Foster must be firm. "That wasn't quiteenough. You had another motive."
"Oh, well," said Lawrence, "I suppose I wanted to recall the thing andsee how it looked in the light of what you told me about your exploitsin Scotland."
"They make it look different, don't they?" Lucy remarked.
Lawrence gave her a good-humored smile and then turned to Foster."Lucy's cleverer than I, but I really thought she was rather hard onWalters." He paused for a moment, and then resumed thoughtfully: "Youmust remember that my object was to keep out of Daly's way, and Ithought I was safe as long as I could do so. One would have expectedhim to play a lone hand."
"Didn't you think there was something suspicious about Walters' turningup again after he'd learned your name? There then were rather too manycoincidences."
"Suppose you enumerate them," Lawrence suggested.
"He urged you to try the mountains and followed you to Banff. ThenI've no doubt he proposed the trip up the glacier, for which he chosethe guides. He sent the best back with Miss Stephen, and while thiswas the proper thing, it's curious that the other guide got drunk.Walters gave him your flask. Then he fell when he threw the rope--atthe only place where a fall would not have led to his shooting down the_couloir_. Afterwards, although speed was urgent, he was very slow ingoing back for help."
"Besides, he knew exposure to the frost would be very dangerous foryou; you told him you had been ill," Lucy interposed.
"I did," Lawrence agreed. "Of course if the fellow had wanted to makean end of me, it's obvious that he took a clever line; but people don'tdo that kind of thing for nothing. Suppose he was a friend of Daly's,it certainly wouldn't have suited the latter's plans."
"That," said Mrs. Stephen, "is what Lucy and I thought. You can befrank, Mr. Foster, because we know Lawrence's story."
"He was very wise to tell it you," Foster replied, and turned to hispartner. "You imagined that Daly only wanted to extort money? Well,my explanation is that he had another object. We'll go back to thenight Fred Hulton was shot. You thought you saw the watchman in thepassage; was he far in front?"
"Perhaps a dozen yards; it's a long passage."
"He was going towards the office and stopped at the door, with his backto the light?"
"Yes; if he'd gone in I would have seen his face."
"And the remark you made indicated that you thought him the watchman ?"
"Suggested it," said Lawrence thoughtfully. "There might have been adoubt."
"Exactly! The man saw you. The light shone out from the office behindhim."
"Yes," said Lawrence, "I see your point. I don't think the fellowcould have been certain I didn't get a glimpse of his face."
"You said nothing about the meeting at the inquiry, which might look asif you had been warned not to do so."
"Nobody asked a question that led up to it. I didn't learn he wasn'tthe watchman until afterwards."
Foster turned to the others. "I think my story has shown you that wehave to deal with a gang of clever criminals. You'll note thatLawrence saw the only man who knows the truth about Fred Hulton'sdeath."
Mrs. Stephen made a sign of understanding. Lucy shivered, then hereyes sparkled angrily, but Lawrence looked obstinate.
"Jake," he said rather dryly, "you ought to have been a barrister! Youhave made a clever use of the evidence, but it has some weak points andleaves room for doubt. What are you going to do about it?"
"I'm going to start again to-morrow to look for Daly," Foster replied.
Lucy gave him a grateful glance, and Mrs. Stephen began to talk aboutsomething else. By and by she turned to Lawrence, who looked tired,and reminded him that it was past the time at which he ought to go tobed. He grumbled a little but went, and soon afterwards Mrs. Stephenleft the others. Foster thought the girl wished this, but had notnoticed that she gave her mother a hint. He felt rather awkward, butthere was something to be said.
"I suppose you are going to marry my partner," he remarked.
"Yes," she replied, with a pretty flush. "Are you surprised?"
"I'm not surprised that he should wish it. But somehow I hadn'tcontemplated Lawrence's marrying."
The girl's color deepened. "Are you very frank, or only tactless?"
"I was stupid," said Foster with some confusion. "But I didn't meanwhat you think. Far from it! My partner has made good, I'm glad youhad the wisdom and pluck to see this."
"He is a very dear fellow," she answered with a soft gleam in her eyesthat moved Foster. Then she smiled. "You are forgiven--and I mustconfess that at first my mother took the view I thought you hinted at.She said Lawrence ought to wait until all risk of the past's beingbrought to light was gone. But I suppose when you guessed the truth itwas something of a shock?"
"No," said Foster. "Although I haven't known you long, I feel that Iwon't lose my partner when he marries you. I was grateful when yousaid you hoped I would always be his friend."
Lucy nodded. "I saw you understood. Before we met I was ratherjealous of you--and curious. I think Lawrence sometimes makes mistakesabout people."
"Walters, for example? Well, I like you to be careful about Lawrence,but hope you don't feel anxious now you have seen me."
"He needs a man friend and there's something about you that makes onefeel you can be trusted," said Lucy, who gave him a level glance. "Youlook ingenuous, but perhaps that's deceptive, in a way. I mean that Ididn't quite understand you until you told us about your adventures inScotland."
"Ah!" said Foster, "Carmen once said something like that, but she wasblunt. She told me I wasn't quite such a fool as I look. However, Ihaven't much ground for boasting about my exploits. The main resultswere that I got myself suspected by the police, warned off Daly, andmade Lawrence's father think I had murdered him. Now I'd much ratherlook a simpleton than a homicide!"
Lucy laughed, but her eyes were soft. "We all make mistakes, Mr.Foster, but your object was good. Besides, I feel that you will carryit out."
Foster hesitated for a few moments, studying the girl. She had courageand he liked the way she took care of his comrade. In some respects,Lawrence needed to be guarded.
"I hoped you would stop when your mother went," he said.
She nodded. "Yes; I knew you had something to say."
"It's important. But first of all, I expect you had a bad time whenLawrence didn't come back from the mountain."
"I shall not forget it," Lucy said with a shudder. "While I waited andwondered why he didn't come I thought the anxiety intolerable, but itwas worse after we met Walters and the drunken guide. He wanted tojoin us, but I knew he was somehow to blame."
"Afterwards you had to wait alone upon the glacier.
That wouldn't makeyou think any better of him."
"It did not," Lucy agreed, with a hard, fixed look. "I--you see,Lawrence was my lover--I spent two or three hours in agonizingsuspense. I knew what I should feel when I stopped, but couldn't go onwith the others, because I might have kept them back. It was freezinghard and now and then a little snow fell, but I scarcely noticed this;I was listening, as I hope I shall never listen again. Sometimes theice cracked and a snow-bridge fell into the crevasse, but that was all,and afterwards the silence was awful. It seemed as if the men wouldnever come. I couldn't go to meet them because of the crevasse; Idream about the horrible black opening yet. Lawrence was on the otherside, out of my reach; he might be slowly freezing on the _couloir_,and I couldn't help. But I knew he was suffering for Walters'negligence or perhaps his treachery."
Foster made a sign of sympathetic comprehension. "You hate him forthis?"
"Yes," said Lucy frankly; "but not altogether because I'm vindictive.The man who could make people suffer as Lawrence and I did ought to bepunished."
"He ought. Well, I'm going to warn Lawrence, and no doubt the properthing would be to be satisfied with this, but somehow I'm not. Yousee, Walters probably doesn't know we suspect him."
The girl's eyes narrowed and Foster knew she was afraid, but did notthink fear was her strongest emotion.
"You mean he may try again?"
"That is what I mean. If he comes back, you must watch him, but keephim here until I arrive. If it's impossible for me to come, send forthe police."
"Yes," said Lucy quietly, "I'll try."
"There's another risk," said Foster. "He may send an accomplice;they're a well-organized gang. In this matter, I'd sooner trust youthan Lawrence." He stopped for a moment and gave her an apologeticglance. "Perhaps I've done wrong to alarm and put this heavy load onyou."
"No," she said resolutely. "I have promised to marry Lawrence and musthelp him."
Then she rose and gave Foster her hand. "I must thank you for yourconfidence. If the need comes, I don't think I'll fail you."
Foster felt satisfied when she left him. Lucy was clever and hadpluck. He had given her a hard part, but she would not shrink. Onecould trust a woman who was fighting for her lover.
After breakfast next morning, Mrs. Stephen showed Foster somephotographs of the mountains, in one or two of which Lucy and Lawrencehad a place, and he asked: "Have you a portrait of Walters?"
"No; the man who took these was staying here, and one day asked Waltersto join the group he was posing, but he refused."
"How did he get out of it?"
Lawrence, who had come in with Lucy, laughed. "Rather neatly. Said hewas a modest sentimentalist and would sooner leave his memory printedon our hearts!"
"One must admit that he did something of the kind," Lucy remarked.
"Will you or Mrs. Stephen describe his looks?" Foster asked.
The girl did so and then inquired: "Why didn't you ask Lawrence?"
"If you want an accurate description of a man, it's better to ask awomen. Our classifications are rather vague; we say he's all right, agood sport, or perhaps an outsider. You note all his idiosyncrasies,the way he talks, the color of his hair----"
"I suppose we do," Mrs. Stephen agreed with a smile. "You are rathershrewd."
"I don't see why that should surprise my friends, but it sometimesdoes," Foster rejoined and went to the flag station to ask about thetrain.
It stopped for him an hour later and he set off again on his search forDaly, which was complicated by the need for being on his guard againsta man he did not know. It looked as if Walters had told Daly thatLawrence was in British Columbia, and he had come out to join hisaccomplice; but, after all, if Foster did not know Walters, the man didnot know him. Another thought gave him some comfort: Walters hadplotted against Lawrence because his evidence might be dangerous, butprobably knew nothing about Daly's blackmailing plan. The latterwould, no doubt, consider any money he could extort was his privateperquisite, and might try to protect his victim for a time.
As the train sped through the mountains Foster felt very much at aloss. Indeed, unless luck favored him, he thought he might as wellgive up the search, and by and by got off at a mining town. He had noparticular reason for doing so, but felt that to go on to Vancouverwould be to leave the place where his last clew broke off too far away.
The town, for the most part, was built of wood, and some of the smallerand older houses of logs, with ugly square fronts that hid the roof. Ahigh, plank sidewalk ran down the main street, so that foot passengersmight avoid the mud, but the ruts and holes were now hidden by beatensnow. At one end stood a big smelter, which filled the place withacrid fumes, and the scream of saws rose from sheds beside the river,where rusty iron smoke-stacks towered above sawdust dumps. The greentorrent was partly covered by cakes of grinding ice. All round, inmarked contrast to the utilitarian ugliness below, dark pines ran up tothe glittering snowfields on the shoulders of the peaks. Foster wentto a big new hotel, which he found dirty and too hot. Its bare wallswere cracked and exuded resin; black drops from the central heaterpipes stained the rotunda floor, which was torn by the spikes on theriver-Jacks' boots. An electric elevator made a horrible noise. Thesupper he got in the big dining-room, where an electric organ played,was, however, very good, and he afterwards sat rather drearily in therotunda, watching the men who came in and out through the revolvingdoor.
There is not much domestic life in the new Western towns, whoseinhabitants, for the most part, live at hotels, and the rotundas of thelatter are used as a lounge by anybody who prefers them to the street.In consequence, Foster could not tell who were guests and who were not.By and by he filled his pipe, and a man who was lighting his held outthe match, which Foster took with a word of thanks. It might have beena trifling politeness, but he thought the other had waited until he wasready.
"You're a stranger," the man remarked.
"Yes," said Foster, "I've just come in."
"Looking for business?"
Foster quietly studied the man. He was neatly dressed and looked keenand alert. It was possible that he was a storekeeper, or a real estateagent, which is a common occupation in a Western town.
"Well," he said, "I don't often let a chance of a trade go past, butwhen you're in a strange place, the trouble is to tell if you've got asnap or not."
"Sure thing," agreed the other. "What's your line?"
"Dressed lumber."
"Then I can't do much for you, but there's quite a lot of newconstruction planned and the boys will get busy as soon as the frostbreaks," said the man.
He went on to talk about the trade of the town and province, and on thewhole Foster was glad he had been in British Columbia before and knewsomething about the country. It was better to be cautious and he didnot want to show he came from the east.
By and by another man crossed the floor and picked up a newspaper thatlay near. As he did so, he gave Foster a careless glance, and thenwent back to the seat he had left. This was at some distance from theheaters and near the entrance, to which people kept passing, but itcommanded the spot that Foster and his companion occupied. Foster,however, could not detect him watching them, and soon afterwards theother man went out.
Nothing happened next day, but Foster stopped and in the evening calledfor Pete, whom he had sent to a different hotel, and strolled down thesnowy street. It was very cold and few people were about. A half-moonhung above the summit of the range, and the climbing pines cut inragged black masses against the snow. After crossing a bridge on theoutskirts of the town they stopped and looked about.
A few half-finished houses stood among blackened stumps in a clearedbelt, where there were rubbish heaps and willows were springing up, buta little farther on the forest rose in a shadowy wall. It was quietexcept for the roar of the river, and Foster shivered as he filled hispipe.
"It's a nipping wind. I'd better go down the bank a bit before I tryto get a l
ight," he said.
He pushed through the willows growing beside the creek, but dropped hismatchbox, and Pete came to help him in the search. They found it, butbefore he could strike a match a man stopped at the end of the bridgeand looked back up the street. Foster, imagining he was the fellow whohad spoken to him at the hotel, touched Pete, and they stood very still.
The man might have seen them had he glanced their way, although thebranches broke the outline of their figures, but he was looking back,as if he expected somebody to come up behind, and after a few momentswent on again. He crossed the clearing towards a fence that seemed toindicate a road following the edge of the forest, and vanished into thegloom of the trees. Then, as Foster lighted his pipe, another man camequickly across the bridge and took the same direction as the first.
"I wunner if yon was what ye might ca' a coincidence," Pete said softly.
"So do I, but don't see how it concerns us," Foster replied. "I thinkwe'll take the road straight in front."
They followed a track that led through the bush at a right angle to theother. The snow was beaten firm as if by the passage of logs orsledges, and there were broad gaps among the trees, which rose inragged spires, sprinkled with clinging snow. In places, the trackglittered in the moonlight, but, for the most part, one side was markedby a belt of gray shadow. After a time, they heard a branch springback; then there was a crackle of undergrowth, and a man came out of anopening ahead. It was the man who had first passed them; Foster knewhim by his rather short fur coat. For no obvious reason andhalf-instinctively, he drew back into the gloom. The man did not seethem and went on up the track.
"Yon's a weel-kent trick in my trade," Pete remarked. "When it's no'convenient to be followed, ye send an inquisitive pairson off onanither road. But I would like to see if he has got rid o' the itherfellow."
They waited some minutes, but nobody else appeared, and Foster surmisedthat the first man knew the ground and the other did not. The fellowhad vanished among the trees, but after a time they saw him again,crossing a belt of moonlight some distance in front, and Foster felt hemust find out where he was going.
By and by the indistinct figure vanished again, and pushing oncautiously through the shadow, they came to a clearing at the foot ofthe range. Steep rocks rose above the narrow open space, but althoughthe trail went no farther there was nobody about. Standing behind afir trunk, Foster searched the edge of the bush, but saw nothing excepta ruined shack and some ironwork sticking out of the snow. He couldnot examine the shack, because if the other man was near he would seehim when he left the trees. After waiting a few minutes, he touchedPete and they turned back silently.