CHAPTER XVIII
CONVERGING TRAILS
Beulah Harris raised her arms above her head and drank in the freshmountain air that flooded through the open window. A smoky red, withbrighter shafts of yellow behind, streamed up from the eastern skyand sent a glow of burnt-orange colour through her bedroom. The girlstretched her spread fingers to the limit of their reach, and withextended toes sought the iron bars at the foot of the bed, fillingher lungs with the fresh foothill ozone. Then she dropped her hands,palm upward, with the backs of her finger-tips resting on her eyes,and felt that it was good to be alive.
They had been great times--wonderful times--these weeks spent in thefreedom and harmony of the Arthurses' household. Mr. and Mrs.Arthurs--Uncle Fred and Aunt Lilian, as she now called them--hadopened their hearts and their home to Beulah from the first. Indeed,the girl was often conscious of their gaze upon her, and at times shewould look up quickly and surprise a strange, wistful look ofyearning in their eyes--a look that they tried very hard to hide fromher. They wanted to leave her free to live her own life--to shape hercareer, for a time at least, wholly in accordance with her impulses.
And such a life as she had lived! Arthurs had at once placed a horseat her disposal, and with a fierce delight at the leap she was takingthrough conventions she swung her right leg over the saddle and satto place like any man. Although born and raised on a farm, horsebackriding was to her something of a novelty, and the assumption of themasculine position was a positive epoch in her career. How the peopleof Plainville would have been scandalized if they could havewitnessed her shocking familiarity with a horse! She thought of anEnglish girl who had been cut by the good society of Plainvillebecause she dared to ride like a biped instead of a mermaid. And shelaughed in a wild exultant freedom, while the wind whipped her hairabout her shoulders, and she felt her mount firm beneath her as theycantered across the brown foothills.
Such hills they were! In her native plains they would have beenmountains of themselves, wonders of Nature to point out to strangersand to hold in a kind of awe across the country-side, but here theywere foothills, mere fragments dropped from the trowel of the Builderas He reared the majestic Rockies behind. And though she often in theearly morning, or at sunset, or when the moon was full and white,feasted her eyes and her soul on the cold splendour of the mightyrange, it was to the warm brown foothills, with their stubbling oflittle trees and their solemn warts of grey-green rock, that herheart turned with something of human affection. At first Uncle Fred,or Aunt Lilian, or, a little later, one of the two cowboys rode withher on her expeditions, but her prairie sense of direction quicklyadapted itself to her new surroundings, and she soon learned to keepa keen eye for the precipitous cut-banks that drop sheer from a levelplain and lie as unsuspected in the saffron sunlight as a coyoteamong the ripened willows. There were quicksands, too--spots wherethe water sprang from the hillside in a crystal stream and in a fewyards soaked into the kneady earth as in a sponge--but all theseplaces were fenced; even in Alberta, where cattle grow like rabbitson the range, the paving of sink-holes with beef steers is anexpensive expedient. So Beulah quickly got her foothill sense, and ina week was riding, care-free and exultant, across the ranges as herheart listed or her horse preferred.
One morning, just as the first grey of dawn mottled the darkness ofher chamber, Beulah heard her door open, and through the uncertainlight she discerned Arthurs gently entering with a rifle in his hand.She sat up, alert, but not afraid; the tingling health in her veinsleft no place for fear and suffered no foolishness on the part of hernervous system.
"What is it, Uncle Fred?" she whispered.
"H-s-h," he cautioned. "You know we have been losing calves with thetimber wolves? Well, there are two of the murderers just across fromthe corral. I thought you might want to see them."
In an instant her feet were on the floor, and, hand in hand, she andArthurs stole to the window. At first her eyes could distinguishnothing in the darkness, but by following Arthurs' index finger sheat last located two gaunt, shaggy creatures a little way up thehillside beyond the corral, and a couple of hundred yards from thehouse.
"However did you know they were there?" she whispered. "You must havecat's eyes. I could hardly see them when you pointed them out."
"Not cat's eyes, Beulah," he answered. "Just rancher's eyes. I heardthe horses snorting, and I fancied there were visitors. Now, will youtake first shot?"
"Oh, that would be a shame. They would get away, and besides, I mightkill a horse."
"Well, won't press it this time," said Arthurs, "because I have alittle personal score to settle with these fellows. I guess I haveabout five hundred dollars invested in each of them."
The wolves were moving leisurely about on the hillside, showing nodisposition to run away, but apparently afraid to approach closer tothe ranch buildings. Arthurs leaned his rifle across the window silland took steady aim, while the girl held her breath with excitement.Then there was a quick flash, that shut the scene momentarily fromtheir eyes; the next moment they saw one of the wolves leap into theair and fall, a sprawling mass, upon the ground, while the otherdarted with the speed of a greyhound toward the neighbouring bushes.Arthurs followed him with a bullet, but even so fine a marksman couldhave found him only by chance in that uncertain light.
"Well, I guess there's a widow in Wolfville this morning," saidArthurs, as he leisurely threw the discharged cartridge from thebarrel. "My apologies, Miss Beulah, for this somewhat unconventionalcall and the interruption of your beauty sleep."
But Beulah was standing, wrapped in admiration. "Oh, Uncle Fred," sheexclaimed. "You're just wonderful. If I could only shoot like that!"
"It's all a matter of training," he told her. "Of course, you musthave good eyes and steady nerves, but you have those already. Therifle is yours whenever you want it, and all the ammunition you cancarry. There's just one stipulation--for the first week shoot only atfoothills, and, remember, aim low."
So Beulah became a rifle enthusiast, and it astonished her howrapidly she improved in marksmanship. With a little instruction fromArthurs and the cowboys in the matter of sighting and holding herweapon, she developed quickly from a stage of dangerous uncertaintyin her gunnery to one of almost expert accuracy. Then she made of therifle a companion on her horseback excursions, to the destruction ofgophers, rabbits, and even a badger and a coyote. It was a brave daywhen she rode into the corral with a coyote strung across her saddle.
The river near by teemed with trout, and the girl soon caught thefascination of the angler. Mrs. Arthurs had a pair of high rubberboots, which she used when she herself went whipping the blue water,and, anchored in these as far out as she dared go into thegravel-bottomed stream, the girl laced the cold current back andforth. And the wild exultation of her first bite! The fish darted upand down stream, pulling out line faster than she could reel it in,and Beulah, in her excitement, waded deeper into the stream as shefollowed the quivering line. But mountain streams are treacherous;one step too far plunged her into twenty feet of water, and the nextmoment she was spinning round and round in the current. She hadlearned to swim a few strokes in the creek on her father's farm, andher meagre skill now stood her in good stead, for she was able tokeep afloat until the current threw her against a gravel bar thatjutted into the river. She dragged herself ashore, very wet, and of asudden, very frightened, and sat down on the warm stones. It was herethat she recorded another resolution; she would learn to swim--not afeeble stroke or two, but to be master of this river which had sonearly mastered her. "I will do it," she said. "I will swim it acrossand back, if it takes till December, and--bur-r-r-rh--it's coldenough now." Then it occurred to her that there was no better time tostart than the present. She looked out a place where the current wasnot too strong, and where there were no treacherous rock-splits inthe bottom, spread her wet clothing to dry in the sun, and for anhour fought the cold current at its own game.
It is not recorded how it came about, but Arthurs passed the wordamong t
he ranch hands that a certain stretch of river bank was sacredfrom all intrusion.
But it was in the life of the home, even more than in the joyousfreedom of the out-of-doors, that Beulah found her great delight. TheArthurs, she knew, were wealthy--many times richer than her father,who passed as a wealthy man among the farmers of Plainville. But withthe Arthurs wealth was merely an incident--a pleasant but by no meansessential by-product of their lives. They lived simply, but well;they worked honestly, but did not slave; and in all their living andworking they shed a kindliness and courtesy that communicated itselfto all with whom they came in contact. The cowboys, Beulah soondiscovered, were as unlike the cowboys of fiction and of herimagination as a Manitoba steer is unlike his Alberta brother; theydid not carry revolvers, nor swagger in high boots, nor rip the airwith their profanity; and their table manners reminded her of Georgeand Harry Grant, and the Grants were outstanding examples of rightliving in the Plainville district. And Mrs. Arthurs, gentle and kindin all her doings, and yet firm and strong and calm, she was--such awoman, Beulah told herself, as her own mother might have been, hadher soul not been crushed under a load of unceasing labour. But, mostof all, it was to Fred Arthurs that the heart of the young girlturned. Whether he sat over his desk at his letters, or dispensedhospitality at his table (for all who passed up or down the valley,as a matter of course, stopped for a meal at the Arthurses), orcantered across the foothills, or shouted behind his lagging herds(such shouting as it was, fit to split the canyons!}, or played ballwith the boys in the evening, or discussed theology with thetravelling missionary, or philosophy with his book-worm neighbourfrom across the river, or read poetry with his wife on the Sundayafternoons, or sang with his great voice in the mellow, yelloweventide, or--most of all--when he looked at Beulah with his fineeyes, and she caught the mirrored reflection of the hunger in hissoul, she felt that here was a man who had lived his life to theuttermost and would go on living it through all eternity. She onlyhalf guessed what his thoughts toward her were--she did not know thatFred and Lilian Arthurs had at last agreed that they could do betterthan leave their wealth to charity, and that a new will was soon tobe drawn--but to her he seemed pure gold, and a gentleman to his lastgesture. And she vowed one night that if ever she met a single manlike Fred Arthurs she would marry him although all the canons andconventions of Christendom stood between them.
And then, quite unexpected, it came upon her, and thrilled her framefrom toe to temple. Jim Travers! It had been in the background of hermind for months, the centre of the subconscious processes whichculminated in this revelation. Yes, Fred Arthurs at twenty-five musthave been such a man as Jim Travers. Jim Travers at fifty would besuch a man as Fred Arthurs. She was absolutely sure of it. Jim wasliving his own life, seeking out that which was worth while, cullingthe incidental from the essential, just as Fred Arthurs must havedone. She remembered with sudden joy how Jim had held a littlekindness to her of greater moment than the impatient engine in theplough-field; the scores of little labours he had undertaken, not asa sacrifice, but as a privilege--as his contribution to humanhappiness. She would marry Jim Travers. The strange part of it washer sudden certainty that she should marry him. She found herselfenveloped in a flame of possession, a feeling that he was hers--hersnow, this minute, and hers for ever. Beulah was a fatalist, althoughshe had never analyzed her own beliefs enough to know it, but sheknew that Destiny had linked her life with his and that Destiny wouldnot be balked. Her mind had been feeling its way, through thedarkness of months, to this sudden ecstasy, but now that she hadreached it she felt that it could never, never fail her. Her sense ofpossession, of mergement, was complete; she felt that already theirsouls had mingled irrevocably and indistinguishably.
The arrival of her mother at the Arthurses' ranch had brought freshjoy to Beulah's life. She saw the colour coming back to the old face,the frame straightening up a little, the light rekindling in the eye,the spring returning to the instep. She had not thought that hermother, after twenty-five years of unprotesting submission, had stillthe nerve to place a limit on that submission, and the discovery hadsurprised and delighted her. True, Mary Harris let it be known thatshe was only on a visit, and in due course would return to her home;but Beulah knew the die had been cast, and things could never againbe quite as they were. And Beulah told her secret, and her motherjust kissed her and let a tear or two fall in her hair.
So this morning, as the girl stretched her young limbs, rounding withlife and energy, and the burnt-orange glow of sunrise suffused theroom and lit the pink tissues of her slender fingers, she rested inthe deep peace which, ever since her revelation, had enveloped herabout. For a minute she let her mind dwell on the picture she carriedin her brain, until the association became too keen and threatened tooverwhelm her from very tenderness; then she sprang from her bed,and, flipping the window-blind to the top, drank in the beauty of thevalley through the open window. Her bedroom had windows both to theeast and the west; and it was her custom to awaken early and feast onthe glory as it surged up the valley, and then, turning, watch thelong waves of light sink slowly down the white mountains. And thismorning, when she thought the first beams must be gilding the highestpeaks, she turned to the westward window and saw the light playingunder a Chinook arch across a segment of sky so soft and near shecould almost feel it with extended fingers. And then a sound caughther ear, and up the trail she saw two men on horseback, a mountedpoliceman and another, and behind them other men driving in a buggy.
By intuition Beulah knew that a mishap had occurred. The Arthurses'ranch was the first abode of real civilization on the way out fromthe mountains, and it was nothing unusual for a lumberman with achopped foot, or a prospector caught in sliding rock, or ariver-driver crushed between logs, or a hunter the victim of his ownmarksmanship, to come limping or riding down the trail to this havenof first aid. Quickly she drew on her simple clothing and hurrieddownstairs, but Arthurs was already at the door. The little partycame into the yard, and the policeman rode up to the door. The otherhorseman sat with his back to the house; his hands were chainedtogether in front of him.
"Good-morning, Sergeant Grey," said Arthurs. "You're early out."
The sergeant saluted. The salutation was intended for Arthurs, but atthe moment the policeman's eye fell on Beulah, and even thediscipline of the Force could not prevent a momentary turning of thehead.
"I've a badly hurt man here," he said, "a man who will need yourhospitality and care for some days. There was a shooting up thevalley last night. His father is here, too, unhurt physically, but onthe verge of collapse, if I am not mistaken."
"We will bring both of them in at once," said Arthurs. "Beulah, willyou call Lilian, and your mother, too? They may be needed. But who isthe third?" he continued, turning to Grey.
"A prisoner. It seems the older man overpowered him. Now let us getthis poor fellow in."
The policeman beckoned and Harris drove the buggy up to the door.Arthurs glanced at him with a casual "Good-morning," but the nextinstant his eyes were riveted on the visitor. "John Harris!" heexclaimed, taking a great stride forward and extending his strongarm. "Man, John, I'm glad to see you, but not in these troubles."
Harris took his hand in a silent clasp, and there was a warmth in itthat set his heart beating as it had not for years. "It's hard,Fred," he managed to say in a dry voice, "but it's good to have youby."
Arthurs bent over Allan, who was half sitting, half lying, in thebuggy. His face was sapped and grey in the growing light. Tenderlythe three men lifted him out. "Take him straight upstairs," saidArthurs. "It will save moving him again." Both spare-rooms in thehouse were occupied, but Arthurs led the way into Beulah's, and theylaid the wounded boy on the white bed.
Arthurs heard Beulah in the hall. "Take off his clothes, Grey," hesaid, and turned to the doorway. "Where's your mother, Beulah?" heasked in a low voice, closing the bedroom door behind him.
"Dressing." The girl looked in his face, and drew back with a littlecry. "What's the matter,
Uncle Fred? What's wrong?"
"A friend of mine has been hurt, and an old friend of your mother's.She must not see him just now. You will arrange that?"
"Yes. But I must see him--I must help."
Beulah hurried to the room where her mother was rapidly dressing, "Aman has been hurt, mother," she said, with suppressed excitement. "Weneed hot water. Will you start a fire in the range?"
Mary Harris mistook Beulah's emotion for natural sympathy over asuffering creature, and hurried to the kitchen. Mrs. Arthurs waswhispering with her husband in the hall, but a moment later joinedMary at the range.
Then Beulah entered the room. The policeman was speaking to Arthurs."I must go into town now with my prisoner," he was saying. "I willsend out a doctor at once, and in the meantime I know you will doeverything possible."
Beulah turned her eyes to the bed. A man was lying there, and an oldman was sitting beside it. At the second glance she recognized him,but in an instant she had herself under control. She walked with asteady step to the bed and looked for a full minute in her brother'sface. Then she looked at her father.
"What have you done to him?" she said.
He threw out his hand feebly. "You do well to ask me that," he said."I take all the blame." He raised his face slowly until his eyes methers. They were not the eyes she had known. They were the eyes of aman who had been crushed, who had been powdered between the wheels ofFate. The old masterful quality, the old indomitable will thatstirred her anger and admiration were gone, and in their place werecoals of sorrow and ashes of defeat. For a moment she held back;then, with arms outstretched, she fell upon her father's breast.
And then he felt his strength return. He drew her to him as all thatremained in the world; crushed her to him; then, very gently,released her a little...He found his fingers threading her fine hair,as they had loved to do when she was a little child.
She sank to her knees beside him, and at last she looked up in hisface. "Forgive me, my father," she whispered.
He kissed her forehead and struggled with his voice. "We all makemistakes, Beulah," he said. "I have made mine this twenty-five years,and there--there is the price!"
His words turned Beulah's thought to Allan, and the necessity foraction brought her to her feet. "We must save him," she cried. "Wemust, and we will! Is the policeman gone? We must have the bestdoctors from Calgary." Looking about she found that Grey and Arthurshad left the room. They had slipped out to leave father and childalone with their emotion, but she found them at the front of thehouse.
She seized the policeman by the arm. "You must get us a doctor--thebest doctor in the country," she pled. "We will spare nothing--"
"My guest, Miss Harris, Sergeant Grey," said Arthurs, and thepoliceman deftly converted her grasp into a handshake.
"Mr. Arthurs has told me the injured man is your brother. He shallwant for nothing. And the sooner I go the sooner you will have help."
"Your prisoner seems docile enough," Arthurs remarked, as thepoliceman swung on to his horse.
"Rather a puzzler," said Grey. "Doesn't look the part, but was caughtin the act, or next thing to it, and his revolver was found lying onthe spot where the young man was shot. By the way, I had almostforgotten. One of the robbers was shot and killed. I had to leave hisbody, but I wish you would send a man up to stay about the placeuntil I can get a coroner out here."
"Robbers, did you say?" demanded Beulah. "Then it was for robbery?"
"Yes, Miss Harris. It seems your father had a large sum of money onhim. We have found no trace of it yet, but it is not likely that morethan two were implicated, and as one was shot on the spot this othermust know where the money is. We will bring it out of him in duetime."
So saying he rode down to the gate, thanked the cowboy who had beenkeeping an eye on the prisoner, and the two started off at a smarttrot down the trail.