The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lure of the North, by Harold Bindloss This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Lure of the North Author: Harold Bindloss Release Date: December 2, 2004 [eBook #14234] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LURE OF THE NORTH*** E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Josephine Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team THE LURE OF THE NORTH Published in England under the Title Agatha's Fortune 1918 BY THE SAME AUTHOR Alton Of Somasco Lorimer Of The Northwest Thurston Of Orchard Valley Winston Of The Prairie The Gold Trail Sydney Carteret, Rancher A Prairie Courtship Vane Of The Timberlands The Long Portage Ranching For Sylvia Prescott Of Saskatchewan The Dust Of Conflict The Greater Power Masters Of The Wheatlands Delilah Of The Snows By Right Of Purchase The Cattle Baron's Daughter Thrice Armed For Jacinta The Intriguers The League Of The Leopard For The Allison Honor The Secret Of The Reef Harding Of Allenwood The Coast Of Adventure Johnstone Of The Border Brandon Of The Engineers Carmen's Messenger The Girl From Keller's The Lure Of The North "She Saw A Look Of Fear In His Staring Eyes."—Page 209 Contents Contents Chapter I—Thirlwell Makes His Choice Chapter II—Strange's Story Chapter III—Agatha Makes A Promise Chapter IV—Strange's Partner Chapter V—A Night's Watch Chapter VI—Father Lucien's Adventure Chapter VII—Agatha's Resolve Chapter VIII—The Burglar Chapter IX—Agatha Asks Advice Chapter X—Thirlwell Gets A Letter Chapter XI—Stormont Finds A Clue Chapter XII—On The Trail Chapter XIII—The Prospectors' Return Chapter XIV—Stormont Disowns A Debt Chapter XV—The Grand Rapid Chapter XVI—The Pit-Prop Chapter XVII—Drummond Offers Help Chapter XVIII—The Hand In The Water Chapter XIX—A Lost Opportunity Chapter XX—The Plunge Chapter XXI—The Wilderness Chapter XXII—Before The Wind Chapter XXIII—Strange's Legacy Chapter XXIV—Agatha Resumes Her Journey Chapter XXV—The Broken Range Chapter XXVI—The Lode Chapter XXVII—THIRLWELL'S DULLNESS Chapter XXVIII—Stormont Tries A Bribe Chapter XXIX—GEORGE REPROACHES HIMSELF Chapter XXX—A Change Of Luck Chapter XXXI—Thirlwell's Reward THE LURE OF THE NORTH Chapter I—Thirlwell Makes His Choice Dinner was nearly over at the big red hotel that stands high above the city of Quebec, and Thirlwell, sitting at one of the tables, abstractedly glanced about. The spacious room was filled with skilfully tempered light that glimmered on colored glasses and sparkled on silver; pillars and cornices were decorated with artistic taste. A murmur of careless talk rose from the groups of fashionably dressed women and prosperous men, and he heard a girl's soft laugh. All this struck a note of refined luxury that was strange to Thirlwell, who had spent some years in the wilds, where the small, frost-bitten pines roll across the rocks and muskegs of North Ontario. One lived hard up there, enduring arctic cold, and the heat of the short summer, when bloodthirsty mosquitoes swarm; and ran daunting risks on the lonely prospecting trail. Now it looked as if chance had offered him an easier lot; he could apparently choose between the privations of the wilderness and civilized comfort, but while he grappled with a certain longing he knew this was not so. He had adopted the pioneers' Spartan code; one must stand by one's bargain, and do the thing one had undertaken. For a few moments he was silent, lost in rather gloomy thought, with a frown on his brown face, and Mrs. Allott, his English relative, studied him across the table. On the whole, Jim Thirlwell had improved in Canada, and she thought he would be welcomed if he returned to England. She had been his mother's friend, and during the week or two they had now spent together, had decided that if he proved amenable she would help him to make a career. Indeed, it was largely on Thirlwell's account she had accompanied her husband on his American tour. Jim had certain advantages. He was not clever, but his remarks were sometimes smarter than he knew. Then he had a quiet voice and manner that impressed one, even when one differed from him, as one often did. He was not handsome, and his face was rather thin, but his features were well-defined, and she liked his firm mouth and steady look. His figure was good and marked by a touch of athletic grace. Then she was, on the whole, satisfied with the way he chose and wore his clothes. His mother had held a leading place in the exclusive society of a quiet cathedral town, until her husband lost his small fortune. Mrs. Allott understood that something might have been saved had Tom Thirlwell been less scrupulous; but Tom had unconventional views about money, and Jim was like his father in many ways. Mrs. Allott, having done her best to enlighten him, hoped he would now see where his advantage lay. "You are not very talkative, Jim," she said. Thirlwell looked up with an apologetic smile, but his eyes rested on the girl by Mrs. Allott's side. Evelyn Grant was young and attractive, but there was something tame about her beauty that harmonized with her character. Thirlwell had not always recognized this; indeed, when they were younger, he had indulged a romantic tenderness for the girl. This, however, was long since, and the renewal of their friendship in Canada left him cold. Evelyn was gracious, and he sometimes thought she had not forgotten his youthful admiration, but she did not feel things much, and he suspected that she had acquiesced in Mrs. Allott's rather obvious plot because she was too indolent to object. For all that, he imagined that if he took a bold line she would not repulse him, and by comparison with his poverty Evelyn was rich. Then he banished the thought with an unconscious frown. "Oh, well, I suppose it's our last evening together, and one feels melancholy about that," he said. "But I thought you were coming to New York with us," Mrs. Allott objected. Evelyn was talking animatedly to a young American, but looked round with languid carelessness. "Are you really not coming, Jim?" she asked. Then, without waiting for Thirlwell's answer, she resumed her talk, and Mrs. Allott wondered whether the girl had not overdone her part. After all, she must have known why she had been brought. "I think not," said Thirlwell. "Very sorry, of course, but there's only a week of my holiday left and I have some business in South Ontario. Then I must go back to the bush." "That's ridiculous, Jim," Mrs. Allott rejoined. "You know you needn't go back to the bush at all. Besides, we hoped you had decided to come to England." She paused and touched Evelyn. "Do you hear what he says? Can't you persuade him to be sensible?" Evelyn turned and looked at Thirlwell with a careless smile. She was very composed, but Mrs. Allott thought she noted a trace of heightened color. "Oh, no; it would be useless for me to try. Nobody could persuade Jim to do what he does not want." "Aren't you taking something for granted?" asked Allott, who sat with the others, but had been silent. "Jim hasn't admitted that he doesn't want to come." The girl gave Thirlwell a tranquil glance in which there was a hint of mockery. "He has only a week left, and I imagine knows better than we do what will please him best," she replied, and turned to her companion. "What have you to say to that?" Allott asked Thirlwell, with a twinkle. "It looks as if Evelyn knew my character—I suppose I am obstinate. But I don't think she has stated the case correctly. It isn't that I don't want to come. Unfortunately, I can't." The other guests were leaving the tables and Mrs. Allott, getting up, gave her husband a meaning glance. "Then I must let Stephen talk to you. You may listen to his arguments; I have exhausted mine." "You could not expect me to succeed where you have failed," Allott remarked, and touched Thirlwell as Mrs. Allott and Evelyn went away. "Shall we go upstairs for a smoke?" A lift took them up, and Allott lighted a cigarette when they entered an unoccupied room. The evening was hot, and Thirlwell sat on the ledge of the open window and looked out upon the river across the climbing town. Church spires, the steep roofs of old houses, and the flat tops of modern blocks, rose in the moonlight through a thin gray haze of smoke. Lower down, a track of glittering silver ran across to the shadowy Levis ridge, along the crest of which were scattered twinkling lights. Presently Allott, who was well preserved and rather fat, turned to Thirlwell. "I hope you won't be rash, Jim, and throw away the best chance you may ever get." "You mean Sir James's offer of the post with the big engineering firm?" "I mean that and other things," said Allott dryly. "Perhaps I have spoken plainly enough; you are not a fool!" "Thanks! I don't claim much wisdom and I am sometimes rash. But perhaps we had better stick to Sir James's offer. Why does he make it now, after standing off when I needed help some years since?" "We'll take the offer first," Allott agreed. "Sir James had not been knighted and pulled off the big business combine then. He hadn't as much influence, and perhaps wanted to see what you could do. I expect he was surprised when you got and kept the mining job in Canada. Anyhow, you're his namesake and nearest relative. My wife, you know, comes next." "He left my father alone in his trouble," said Thirlwell grimly. "I wonder why they gave him his title. There were things done when the combine was made the shareholders didn't know, besides injustices to the staffs. You see, I had friends —" "What has that to do with you? He offers you a good post, with a hint about favors to come." "The post is good," Thirlwell agreed, with a thoughtful look. "In a way, I'd have been glad to take it; but I can't very well." "Your engagement at the little wild-cat mine is an obstacle? After all, there are other engineers in Canada; I don't suppose your employers would suffer much inconvenience if you gave up the job." "There's a year yet to go, besides an understanding that I'd stay until we got down to the deep vein." "For very small pay? Much less than you're now offered, and with no prospects?" "My employers are straight people and pay me as much as they can afford. They treat me well, though they're a small firm and the mine is not prospering. In fact, I expect they'll have some trouble to hold out until we reach good ore." "The risk of their not holding out is rather a curious argument for your staying." Thirlwell was silent for a few moments, and his face was hard when he resumed: "I know something about the combine's methods—Masters, who's still with one of the companies Sir James bought up, writes to me. I suppose one mustn't be too fastidious, but there are things the man who takes the post I'm offered will be expected to do; things I haven't done yet and mean to leave alone. You have often to throw your scruples overboard when you pay big dividends." Allott chuckled. "The combine does not pay big dividends. It's a grievance of the shareholders'." "Oh, well; Sir James was knighted, and I hear about another director building a hospital. One doesn't get honors for nothing. They're expensive." "Jim," said Allott reproachfully, "you're talking like your father, and while airing one's views may be harmless, trying to live up to them doesn't always pay. Taking that line cost him much; I thought you wiser." Thirlwell colored. "My father was an honest man. If I can live as he did, I shall be satisfied." "Well, for some reason, Sir James is keen about bringing you back, and if you state the terms on which you'll come, I imagine he'll agree. This should make things easier, and I believe he'll be responsible if you pay your employers a fine to let you off." Thirlwell was silent and looked out of the window. The hum of traffic came up from the dark gaps between the buildings and he heard a locomotive bell and the clash of freight-cars by the wharf. Then the hoot of a deep whistle rang across the town, and red and white flashes pierced the darkness down the river. A big liner, signaling her tug, was coming up stream, and presently her long hull was marked by lights that rose in tiers above the water. He watched her as she swung in to the wharf with her load of cheering immigrants. It reminded him of his landing in Canada, and he looked back upon the disappointments and hardships he had borne in the country. He had soon found there was no easy road to wealth, and life had so far been an arduous struggle. He had known poverty, hunger, and stinging cold, and now his pay left little over when he had satisfied his frugal needs. All would be different if he went back to England, and he pondered over Allott's specious arguments. There was no reason he should not take the offered post if he could do so on his terms, and it was possible that his employers would release him. He was thirty years of age, had long practised self-denial, and would soon get old. Why should he not enjoy some prosperity before it was too late? Allott had said enough, but did not know this and had not finished yet. "There's another matter, Jim," he resumed. "You can't think about marrying while you stay in the bush." "I don't know that I want to marry. I couldn't support a wife." "Why not, if you chose a wife with money?" "Then she'd have to support me. Besides, I expect it would be hard to find a rich girl willing to marry a poor engineer." Allott made a sign of impatience. "Let's be frank! The matter's delicate, and perhaps requires a lighter touch than mine, but I understand that Helen has given you a hint." "She has," said Thirlwell, with some grimness. "I hoped you'd both let the thing go when she saw my attitude." "We'll let it go after the next few minutes, if you like, but there is something to be said. Evelyn is an attractive girl, and has some money; besides which, Sir James would approve her marrying you. He has hinted that he'll give you a chance of making your mark in England if he is satisfied. Evelyn's relations know this, and it was significant that they agreed when Helen invited her to join us. As the girl consented, I might perhaps go farther—" Thirlwell stopped him. "Why is Sir James anxious to help me?" "We can only guess. Perhaps he feels you have a claim and he has neglected you. Then he may think you will do him credit and realize the ambitions he's getting too old to carry out. He has noted that you have inherited your father's character, and I've heard him remark that while Tom Thirlwell had extravagant notions, he certainly had brains. However, we were talking about Evelyn." Thirlwell, exercising some self-control, lighted a cigarette and gave Allott a steady look. "Then we'll finish the talk. Evelyn is a charming girl; amiable, pretty, tranquil, but there's no ground for believing she has contemplated marrying me." "Suppose we admit that's possible?" said Allott, with a meaning smile. "I imagine, because I know you both, that if you were firm enough, you could, so to speak, carry her away. Since you own that she's charming, why don't you try?" "If you are curious, you can take it that Sir James's gratuitous approval is an obstacle. I shall not marry to please him or let him plan my career. I mean to stand on my own feet and not be ruled by a greedy old man's caprices. Now you understand this, we'll say no more about the thing." Allott shrugged. "Very well! I've done my best, and since you mean to take your own line, wish you success. Perhaps we had better go downstairs." Evelyn was talking to the young American when they crossed the big hall and she smiled as they passed, but an hour later Thirlwell saw her alone. She beckoned him carelessly and indicated a place near her in a corner seat. "So Allott has not persuaded you to come with us!" she remarked. "No," said Thirlwell. "Very sorry, but there are matters I can't neglect." "We shall miss you," she said, with a side glance. "I suppose you are not coming to England afterwards?" "I'm afraid not," Thirlwell answered. Then, to his surprise, she gave him a rather curious smile. "From the beginning I didn't think you would come." "Ah!" said Thirlwell. "Still I don't see why—" "That doesn't matter," she answered calmly. "After all, I dare say it's better in many ways that you should stay in Canada, and I wish you luck." She paused a moment and resumed: "I want you to feel that I do wish it. But Mrs. Allott is waiting for me. We shall, no doubt, see you before we start." She left him puzzled but relieved. Next morning he stood on the platform of the Grand Trunk station, and Evelyn, leaning on the rails of a vestibule, smiled and waved her hand as the train rolled away. Chapter II—Strange's Story After Allott's departure Thirlwell went to Montreal and spent two depressing days transacting some business for his employers. Quebec was quiet and picturesque, and a cool, refreshing breeze blew up the river from the Laurentian wilds, but Montreal, shut in by the wooded mountain, sweltered in humid heat. Then the streets were being torn up to lay electric mains, and sand and cement blew about from half-finished concrete buildings. Thirlwell did not like large cities, and after the silence of the bush, the bustle of the traffic jarred. He had, however, better grounds for feeling depressed. His employers trusted him, and actuated by loyalty as well as professional pride, he had resolved to make their rather daring venture a success. Now this looked difficult. Money was scarce, and he found credit strangely hard to get. The mining speculators he called upon received him coldly, and although he had a warmer welcome from the manufacturers of giant-powder and rock-boring machines, they demanded prompt payment for their goods. When Thirlwell stated that this was impossible they told him to come again. It was known that there was silver in the rocks that run back into the North-West Territories, but nobody had found ore that would pay for refining. The rich strike in Ontario had not been made yet, and the prospectors who pushed into the forests with drill and dynamite were regarded as rash enthusiasts. Bankers were cautious, and declined to accept rusty mining plant and a shaft in the wilderness as good security. On the evening before he left Montreal, Thirlwell sat in the hall of his hotel, listening to the clanging street-cars and the rattle of the Grand Trunk trains. Poisoned flies dropped upon the tables and an electric fan made an unpleasant whirring as it churned the humid air. Had his mood been normal the heat and noise would not have disturbed Thirlwell, but now they jarred. His visit had been a failure, and his employers must develop the mine without the help of the latest machines. He doubted if they could finance the undertaking until they struck the vein. Then it looked as if he had been rash to reject Sir James's offer. He had thrown away a chance of winning prosperity and perhaps fame in England, for he knew he had some talent and he was ambitious. Instead he had chosen exhausting labor and stern self-denial in the wilds. The life had some compensations, but they were not very obvious then. It was, however, too late for regrets; he had chosen and must be content, and putting down the newspaper he was trying to read, he went to bed. Two days later he sat in the garden of a new summer hotel on the shore of Lake Huron. A pine forest rolled down to the water past the pretty wooden building, and the air in the shade was cool and sweet with resinous smells. The lake glittered, smooth as glass, in the hot sun, but here and there a wandering breeze traced a dark-blue line across the placid surface. Along the beach the shadows of the pines floated motionless. Thirlwell smoked and meditated on the errand that had brought him to the hotel. The clerk had told him that Miss Strange was on the beach, but he had not seen her yet and felt some curiosity about the girl whom he had arranged to meet. They had corresponded and he had brought a photograph he thought she would like to see, but on the whole he would sooner she had not asked for the interview. She might find it painful to hear the story he had to tell, and the thing would require some tact, more perhaps than he had. In the meantime he wondered what she was like. Her letters indicated a cultivated mind, and he knew she had a post at a Toronto school; but one could not expect much from the daughter of the broken-down prospector he had met in the North. Strange had worked spasmodically at the mine, where he was employed because labor was scarce. He was not a good workman, and when he had earned a small sum generally bought provisions and went off into the bush to re- locate a silver lode he claimed to have found when he was young. He came back ragged and disappointed, and when liquor could be got indulged freely before he resumed his work. Nobody believed his tale; Strange's lode was something of a joke. The miners called him a crank, and Thirlwell had doubted if he was quite sane, but he persisted in his search and sometimes Black Steve Driscoll went North with him. It was suspected that Driscoll made an unlawful profit by selling the Indians liquor, which perhaps accounted for his journeys with Strange. As they returned from the last expedition their canoe capsized in a rapid near the mining camp, and although Driscoll reached land exhausted, Strange's body was never found. Thirlwell knew his daughter's address, and sent her news of the accident, which led to an exchange of letters. Now he would shortly see her, give her the particulars she wanted, and then their acquaintance would end, although he liked the hotel and might stay for a few days' fishing. His pipe went out and he was half asleep when a girl crossed the lawn. She came nearer, as if to avoid the glistening showers the nickeled sprinklers threw upon the thirsty grass, and Thirlwell watched her drowsily, noting her light, well- balanced movements and the grace of her tall figure. She wore a big white hat and a thin summer dress that he thought was very artistically made. There was something aristocratic about her, and he imagined she belonged to a party that had landed from a fine steam yacht. Then he noted with some surprise that she was coming to him. She stopped and Thirlwell got up, imagining that she had made a mistake. Her face, like her figure, hinted at strength tempered by proud self-control. She had brown hair with a ruddy tint that caught the light, gray eyes that met his with a calm, inquiring glance, and firm red lips. Thirlwell was not a critic of female beauty, but he saw that she had dignity and charm. In the meantime, he wondered what she wanted. "Mr. Thirlwell, I suppose?" she said. He bowed and she resumed: "Then I must thank you for coming here to meet me. I am Agatha Strange." It cost Thirlwell an effort to hide his surprise; indeed, he wondered with some embarrassment whether he had succeeded, for this was not the kind of girl he had expected to meet. "It was not much out of my way, and I wanted to see the lake," he replied, as he brought a chair. She thanked him, and sitting down was silent for a few moments while she gazed across the lawn. Some of the guests were sitting in the shadow by the water's edge, their summer clothes making blotches of bright color among the gray rocks. Out on the lake, a young man knelt in the stern of a canoe, swinging a paddle that flashed in the sun, while a girl trailed her hand in the sparkling water. As the craft passed the landing she began to sing. No breath of wind ruffled the surface now, and the dark pine-sprays were still. A drowsy quietness brooded over the tranquil scene. "It is very beautiful," she said slowly. "Different, one imagines, from the rugged North!" "Very different," Thirlwell agreed, and took out a photograph. "You will see that by the picture I promised to bring." Agatha took the photograph. It showed a broad stretch of sullen water with a strip of forest on the other side. The pines were ragged and stunted and some leaned across each other, while the gloomy sky was smeared by the smoke of a forest-fire. In the foreground, angry waves broke in foaming turmoil among half-covered rocks. No soft beauty marked the river of the North, and the land it flowed through looked forbidding and desolate. "The Shadow River," said Thirlwell. "You can see the Grand Rapid. I have marked a cross where the canoe upset." Agatha said nothing for a few moments, and Thirlwell was relieved. He saw she felt keenly, but she was calm. In the meantime he waited; one learns to wait in the North. "Thank you; I would like to keep the picture," she said by and by, and gave him a level glance. "I suppose you knew my father well?" "I knew him in a way," Thirlwell answered cautiously, because he did not want to talk about Strange's habits. Perhaps the girl knew her father's weakness, and if not, it was better that she should think well of him. Yet Thirlwell imagined she understood something of his reserve. "Ah!" she said, "you knew him in the bush, but not when he lived at home with us. I should like to tell you his story." "Not if it is painful." "It is painful, but I would sooner you heard it," she replied. "For one thing, you have been kind—" She paused, and when she resumed there was a faint sparkle in her eyes. "I want you to understand my father. He was my hero." Thirlwell made a vague gesture. He had seen Strange, half drunk, reeling along the trail to the mine, but this did not lessen his sympathy for the girl. He hoped she had taken his sign to imply that he was willing to listen. "To begin with, do you believe in the silver lode?" she asked. "One disbelieves in nothing up yonder," Thirlwell tactfully replied. "It's a country of surprises; you don't know what you may find. Besides, there is some silver—I'm now sinking a shaft—" Agatha smiled and he saw she had the gift of humor. The smile softened her firm lips and lighted her eyes. "I imagine you are cautious. In fact, you are rather like the picture I made of you after reading your letters." Thirlwell felt embarrassed and said nothing, as was his prudent rule when his thoughts were not clear. "My father found the ore many years since, when he was employed by the Hudson's Bay Company," she resumed. "The factory was in the Territories, three or four hundred miles north of your mine, and the agent sent him out, with a dog-train and two Indians, to collect some furs. They had to make a long journey, and were coming back, short of food, when they camped one evening beside a frozen creek. The water had worn away the face of a small cliff, and the frost had recently split off a large slab. That left the strata cleanly exposed, and my father noticed that near the foot of the rock there was a different-colored band. They were making camp in the snow then, but he went back afterwards when the moon rose and the Indians were asleep, and broke off a number of bits. The stones were unusually heavy. Doesn't that mean something?" "Silver has a high specific gravity; so has lead. Sometimes one finds them combined." "I have a piece here," said Agatha, taking out a small packet. "My father gave it me when I was a child, and I brought it, thinking I might, perhaps, show it to you." Thirlwell, examining the specimen, missed something of her meaning, and did not see that her decision to show him the ore was a compliment. He looked honest, and strangers often trusted him. His friends had never known him abuse their confidence. "Yes," he said at length. "I think it's silver. Traces of lead, and perhaps copper, too; you seldom find silver pure. But won't you go on with the tale?" "The party's food was getting short. That meant they would starve if they did not reach the factory soon, and they set off again at dawn. There was no time to prospect and deep snow covered the ground, but my father made what he called a mental photograph of the spot. It was a little hollow among the rocks, with a willow grove by the creek, and in the middle there were two or three burned pines. If you drew a line through them it pointed nearly north, and where it touched the cliff you turned east about twenty yards." "Aren't you rash to tell me this?" Thirlwell asked. Agatha smiled. "On the whole, I think not; but nothing I could tell would be of much use to you. My father, although he had been there, could not find the spot again." She paused a moment and then went on: "When they reached the factory he showed the specimens to the agent, who said they were worthless and laughed at him. But it was perhaps significant that he was not sent that way again. One understands that the Hudson's Bay directors were jealous of their game preserves." "Furs paid better than silver," Thirlwell agreed. "They didn't want miners with dynamite and noisy machines to invade the solitudes and frighten the wild animals away." "My father, going south on a holiday, met my mother and gave up his post when they were married. She had a little money, enough to open a small store, and for her sake he started business in a new wooden town. He did not like the towns, and I know when I got older that he often longed for the wild North, but although the place grew and the business prospered, he could not spare the time and money to look for the lode. He wanted to give my brother a good education and start him well, and after a time I was sent to a university." "That explains something," Thirlwell remarked, and then pulling himself up, added: "If you take proper appliances, a prospecting expedition costs much. But did your father often talk about the lode?" "No; not unless it was to me." "But why did he tell you and not your brother?" "George was very practical; I was romantic and my father something of a dreamer. We lived happily at home, but I felt that he needed sympathy that he did not get. I think now my mother knew he longed for the North, and was afraid the longing might grow too strong and draw him back. When he did speak of the silver she smiled. I suppose when you have known the wilderness its charm is strong?" She stopped and her face was gravely thoughtful as she looked across the shining water towards the faint blur of a pine forest on a distant point, and Thirlwell felt as if they had been suddenly united by a bond of understanding. "Yes," he said. "It's a stern country and one has much to bear; but it calls. One fears the hardships, cold, and danger— but one goes." Agatha looked up quietly, but he noted the gleam in her eyes. "You know! Well, you can imagine what it cost my father to resist the call, but he did resist for many years. He loved my mother, but I think he hated the growing town; then there was the dream of riches that might be his. He was not greedy, and my brother did not need money. George had a talent for business and his employers soon promoted him; but I was fond of science, and it was my father's ambition that I should make independent researches and not be forced to work for pay." She hesitated, and then went on: "Perhaps I am boring you, but I wanted you to understand what his duty must have cost. You see, you only knew him in the bush, and after he went back I noted a difference in his letters. They were sometimes strange; he seemed to be hiding things. I think he felt the disappointment keenly and lost heart." Thirlwell saw she suspected something, and replied: "Disappointment is often numbing; but your father never lost his faith in the lode." "Nor have I lost mine," said Agatha. "But we will not talk about that yet. He brought us up and started us well; then my mother died, and nobody had any further claim on him. His duty was done, and though he was getting old, he went back to the North. Well, I have told you part of his story, and you know the rest." "It is a moving tale," said Thirlwell, with quiet sympathy. He thought she felt it was necessary to defend her father, and she had done so. Indeed, he admitted that one must respect the man who had, with uncomplaining patience, for years carried on his disliked task for his wife and children's sake. Longing for the woods and the silent trail, Strange must have found it irksome to count dollar bills and weigh groceries in the store; but he had done his duty, and borne hardship and failure when at last freedom came. Still the girl must not know what he had become. Agatha asked him a number of questions and then got up. "Thank you," she said. "I will take the photograph and would like you to keep the specimen of ore." "I will keep it; but I wonder why you wish to give it me?" She smiled. "I believe in the lode and would like you to believe in it, too. You are a mining engineer and can find out if there is much silver in the stone." Then she crossed the lawn to the hotel veranda and left Thirlwell thoughtful. Chapter III—Agatha Makes A Promise Next morning Thirlwell wrote to his employers, stating that he meant to take another week's holiday, and smiled as he reflected that the letter would arrive too late for them to refuse. The hotel was comfortable, he had met one or two interesting people, and was told the fishing was good; besides, he thought he would not be badly needed at the mine just then. For all that, he was not quite persuaded that these were sufficient reasons for neglecting his work, and when he went through the hall with the letter in his hand he put it into his pocket instead of the box. He would think over the matter again before the mail went out. Then as he crossed the veranda Agatha came up from the beach and gave him a smile. "You are out early," Thirlwell remarked. "I like the morning freshness and have been on the lake." "It looks as if you had hurt yourself," said Thirlwell, noting a small wet handkerchief twisted round her hand. Agatha laughed. "Not seriously; I blistered my fingers trying to paddle. I have been practising since I came, but it is difficult to keep the canoe straight when you are alone." "That's so," Thirlwell agreed. "The back-feathering stroke is hard to learn." "For all that, I mean to learn it before I go." "Perhaps I could teach it you. How long have you got?" "A fortnight," she said, moving on, and when she left him Thirlwell went to the mail-box and dropped in his letter. Afterwards he felt annoyed that he had done so, and wondered whether he had weakly given way to a romantic impulse, but next morning he went down to the beach and found the girl launching a canoe. Making her sit near the middle, he knelt in the stern and drove the canoe across the shining water with vigorous strokes. Agatha wore a white jersey and had left her hat, and he noted the color the cool wind brought to her face and how the light sparkled on her hair. By and by they skirted a rocky island where resinous smells drifted across the water and the reflections of tall pines wavered round the canoe, until he ran the craft on a shingle point and they changed places. Agatha took the single- bladed paddle and although her hands were sore made some progress while he instructed her. After a time she stopped and let the canoe drift in the hot sunshine. "I think you'd soon make a good voyageur," Thirlwell remarked. "For one thing, you're determined; I saw you wince once or twice and imagine the paddle-haft hurt." "I must learn to use the pole yet, and mean to try it in the river by and by. You must pole, I think, when you go up a fast stream?" "That is so, when you can't use the tracking line. But I don't see why you are anxious to learn." "I have an object," Agatha answered with a smile. "Then why don't you practise canoeing at Toronto?" "The trouble is that I haven't time. You see, I teach all day." "But you have holidays and the evenings." "My evenings are occupied by study." "I don't know if it's wise to over-work yourself for the advantage of your pupils," Thirlwell remarked. "At one time, I was very keen about my profession, but soon found it a mistake to tire my brain for my employer's benefit. But what do you study?" "Science; chemistry and geology, but not in order to teach the girls." "Well, I suppose knowledge is worth getting for its own sake. Anyhow, I thought so, but you learn when you undertake rude mining that the main thing is to be able to make a practical use of what you know. In fact, that's often better than knowing much." "Perhaps so," Agatha agreed. "Some day I hope to make a good use of what I have learned." "About canoeing, or geology?" "About both," said Agatha. "Now, however, I think we'll make for the landing. Breakfast will be ready soon." Thirlwell saw no more of her during the day, but she came down to the beach in the evening and he gave her another lesson. As they paddled home he thought she looked tired, and asked: "Where have you been since morning?" Agatha indicated a ridge of high ground with a few pines on its summit that rose indistinctly at some distance across the shadowy forest. "I took my lunch with me and went up there." "But it must be a two or three hours' walk. Is there a trail?" "A loggers' trail. It's partly grown up and broke off altogether when I got near the rocks. After that I had a rough scramble, but I like the woods and try to walk as much as possible in my holidays." "Well, no doubt, walking is good for one. But don't the girls in Toronto prefer the street cars?" "I don't go long walks for health's sake," Agatha answered with a smile. "But I think some people I know are waiting. Can you paddle faster?" The canoe's bows lifted out of a wisp of foam as Thirlwell swung the paddle, and in a few minutes he helped the girl to land. After this, their acquaintance ripened fast and Agatha went fishing with him on the lake and, by disused logging trails, long distances into the shadowy bush. Thirlwell imagined she knew this excited some remark, but he saw there was an imperious vein in the girl, who did what she thought fit, without heeding conventions. Besides, no touch of sentiment marked their friendship; she accepted him as a comrade who could teach her something about lake and forest, and he was satisfied with this. Yet he was puzzled. It was strange that an attractive girl should wish to learn something of the bush-man's skill, but she obviously meant to do so. Although it often cost her an effort to follow him, she would not let him turn back when they came to an angry rapid or a belt of tangled woods. She certainly had charm besides having pluck, because when she did not go fishing young women as well as young men gathered round her on the shady lawn. It was hard to imagine why a girl like this should practise walking long distances and combine the study of canoeing with geology. The fortnight slipped by and on the last evening Thirlwell took Agatha out upon the lake. They were later than usual and as they stole across the glassy water the pines on a western headland cut black and sharp against an orange glow. To the east a faint track of silver ran back into the blue distance under the moon. It was very quiet except for the splash of the paddle and ripple at the bows, but somewhere in the shadows a loon was calling. By and by the lights of the hotel faded and they were alone in the dusk. Thirlwell put down the paddle and lighted a cigarette. He had drawn nearer the girl in the last week; a curious feeling of confidence and liking united them, but he was not her lover and knew that if he drifted into philandering she would be repelled. Perhaps this was unusual, but she was different from other girls. Thirlwell could not tell how she differed, but he was satisfied that she did and let the matter go. "You start for the mine to-morrow, don't you?" she asked presently. "Yes," he said; "it's my last evening on the lake. There's something melancholy about the end of a holiday, but I don't think I have felt it as much before." Agatha gave him a calm glance and saw he had not meant her to read a sentimental meaning in his admission. It was unconscious flattery and she was pleased. "I can understand. One values the days of liberty when they are gone! But do you feel daunted by the thought of the work and hardship that waits you in the North?" "Not in a way. Now and then you shrink from the arctic winter, but in summer, in spite of the mosquitoes, the bush gets hold of you. Sometimes you hate the solitude; but when you leave it you long to return." "Ah," said Agatha, "I have not seen the wilderness, but next summer I hope to make an exploring trip." "But where?" "To the Shadow River and on into the Territories," she answered quietly. Thirlwell looked hard at her, and she smiled. "Yes; if things go well with me, I mean to look for the silver ore." "Now I begin to understand! This is why you wanted to learn to manage a canoe and train yourself to walking through the bush. But it's a ridiculous undertaking. Your father, who found it, could not locate the ore again." "I may be luckier. Luck counts for something when you go prospecting, doesn't it?" "Success in prospecting is often due to luck," Thirlwell admitted. "But it's a very rough country where no food can be got. You will need canoes, tools, and tents, and two or three good packers to carry the outfit across the divides. This would be expensive. Then I doubt if you are strong enough to bear the strain; I imagine very few women could do so without breaking down." "You have seen how I have tried to harden myself, but I have made other preparations. It's some time since I resolved to go, and every month I put by a little money. By next summer I ought to have enough." "I wonder whether you found it easy to save." "I did not," said Agatha, smiling. "Sometimes it was very hard; I should not have taken this holiday only that I wanted to get used to the lakes and woods. I am grateful for all you have taught me." A thought that pleased him took shape in Thirlwell's brain, but he used some restraint. He must not encourage the girl in what he imagined was folly. "The chance of your finding the vein is very small, and there's another thing. You have told me your father's story, and I have met men like him in the woods, who had wasted their money and lost their health following an illusion. The lode, so to speak, haunted him and made him restless when he might have been content at home, and then drove him into the wilds when he was old. It's dangerous to give oneself up to a fixed idea, and you mustn't let the infatuation get hold of you. It will bring you disappointment and trouble." "The warning's too late," said Agatha in a curious quiet voice. "The infatuation has got hold of me, but one must follow one's bent, and life is tame if one does nothing that is not prudent and safe. Besides, romantic dreams sometimes come true." "Not often," said Thirlwell dryly. "But why do you really want to go?" "The silver is mine; my father gave it me. It looked as if my brother would prosper without his help, and I think he loved me best. Perhaps this was because I believed in the vein." Thirlwell shook his head. "I cannot think you greedy." "Then," said Agatha with a flush of color, "if you must have the truth, I feel I must finish my father's work. His son and his best friends thought him the victim of his imagination and the lode a joke; but if I succeed, his dreams will be justified." Thirlwell said nothing for a minute or two; he saw that she was resolute and was moved by her staunch loyalty. After all, Strange's story was not uncommon; Thirlwell had known men leave work and home to follow an elusive clue to mineral treasure in the barren solitudes. Some had come back broken in fortune and courage, and some had not come back at all. Then while he mused the harsh cry of the loon rang through the dark. It fired his blood, and unconsciously he fixed his eyes on the North, for in summer the birds of the lakes and rivers push on towards the Pole. He had done his duty and tried to persuade the girl, but after all she was stronger and finer than Strange. It was possible that she might succeed, and he could help. "When you go I hope you will let me come," he said. "We have the tools and outfit one needs for prospecting at the mine, and I could get the packers and canoes." "But you don't believe I shall find the lode. Why do you want to come?" "I know the bush," Thirlwell answered with a smile. "So far I've been prudent and stuck to my job, but I've felt the pull of the lone trail like other men. In fact, I'd rather like to do something rash, for a change." "Have you never done anything rash?" "Only once, I think. It needed all my pluck; but the curious thing is that it's now turning out better than I hoped." Agatha pondered and then looked up. "It would be an advantage to have somebody I could trust to look after the packers and canoes; but the journey must be made at my cost. I couldn't let another undertake my duty." "Then I may come? It's a promise?" "Yes," said Agatha quietly; "when I am ready I will let you know. Now, however, we must get back to the hotel." Thirlwell dipped the paddle, the canoe lurched, and her bow rose at his next vigorous stroke. The ripples she threw off widened into a fan-shaped wake that trailed away and was lost in a glitter of moonlight. The black pines on the point rose higher, resinous smells came out of the dark, and presently a row of lights twinkled ahead. Thirlwell ran the canoe alongside the landing and when they reached the veranda Agatha gave him her hand. "You start early, I think," she said. "I have much to thank you for and am glad we have met." He let her go and afterwards leaned against the rails. She had made him a promise and when they next met it would be beside a river of the North. But this was twelve months ahead; he felt it was a long time to wait. Chapter IV—Strange's Partner The day's work was over and Thirlwell and his employer sat, smoking and talking, in their shack at the Clermont mine. Scott was young and had once been fastidious, but, like Thirlwell, he wore work-stained overalls. For a time when they first came up, both had clung to a few of the refinements of civilization, but their grasp on these had slackened, and now they frankly admitted that it was too much of an effort to change their clothes when they were tired. The shack was built of pine logs, notched where they crossed at the corners, and the seams were caulked with clay and moss. A big stove, now empty, stood at one end, its pipe running obliquely across the room before it pierced the iron roof, so as to radiate as much heat as possible. Plans, drawing instruments, and some books on mining, occupied a shelf on the wall; guns, fishing rods, and surveying tools a corner, and a plain, uncovered table the middle of the room. Besides this, there were two or three cheap folding chairs. The door and window were open, although the mosquitoes were numerous, and the roar of the Shadow River and a smell of wood smoke came in. When he looked out, Thirlwell could see the ragged tops of the stunted pines cut against a pale-green glow. By and by Scott knocked out his pipe and stretched his legs. There was another partner, but he only visited the mine at intervals and had left it while Thirlwell was away. "Brinsmead has gone to Nevada and probably won't come back," Scott remarked. "He has a plausible manner, but seems to have done no better in New York than you did in Montreal; it looks as if machinery agents are very shy about giving credit to the owners of half-developed mines. Anyhow, when he heard of a field for his talents in a Western town he didn't hesitate. Now he tells me that he finds the prospect of earning some money instead of spending it a refreshing change." "It's lucky he didn't take his capital out of the Clermont," Thirlwell replied. Scott laughed. "He couldn't take it out. Nobody would buy his share, and my fortune's represented by a shaft in danger of flooding and some cheap and antiquated boring plant. In fact, if we don't strike pay-dirt soon, the Clermont will go broke, and I imagine that's why Brinsmead skipped. After floating one or two small mines successfully, he has some reputation to lose, while I'm, of course, not an engineer or a business man." He paused and looked hard at Thirlwell. "I'd like you to stay and see me through, but wouldn't blame you if you quit." "My reputation is not worth much and can be risked. Besides, I imagine we'll get down to the deep vein before the funds run out." "I hope so! You're not a quitter, and we'll hold on while we can, but I think we'll talk about something else. Well, I've examined the specimen of ore you brought back. It looks like high-grade stuff and certainly carries enough metal to pay for smelting." "What do you think about Strange's tale?" Scott knitted his brows. "I did think the man a drunken crank and the lode an illusion that had grown on him by degrees until he really believed in the ore. When you get the tanking habit such things happen. One specimen certainly doesn't prove very much; but since Strange gave it to his daughter a long time before we knew him, I'm willing to revise my judgment." "Miss Strange is persuaded that he did find the lode. She tells me he led a very industrious and sober life at home." "It's rather curious you met the girl," Scott observed. "I don't think so. When we found her address among the truck Strange had left with the foreman, it...