CHAPTER XXI--JIMMY'S EMBARRASSMENT
Jimmy's courage had fallen very low, dragging with it the last remnantsof hope and ambition. Every loophole of escape from poverty seemedclosed against him. For days he had tramped the streets of Vancouver,making the rounds of the wharves and mills in search of work, and hadfound nothing. He loathed the dreary patrol of the wet streets; heabhorred his comfortless quarters in the third-rate hotel; and the curtrefusals that followed his application for a humble post were utterlydisheartening. Worse than all, he felt that he had drifted very far fromthe girl who was constantly in his thoughts. He had almost lost hope ofthe salvage scheme's succeeding, but he was pledged to his comrades, andthey meant to try again if they could finance another venture withJaques' assistance. They must pick up a living somehow, and, ifpossible, save a few dollars before the time to start arrived.
One gloomy afternoon Jimmy stood outside an employment bureau among agroup of shabbily dressed, dejected men, some of whom were of distinctlyunprepossessing appearance. One had roughly pushed him away from thewindow; but he did not rouse himself to resent it. He felt listless andlow-spirited, and to wait a little would pass the time. Besides, hethought he had read all the notices about men required which the agentdisplayed, and had offered himself for several of the posts withoutsuccess. He got his turn at the window at last, and left it moodily; butwhen he reached the edge of the sidewalk he stopped suddenly and theblood rushed to his face. Ruth Osborne was crossing the street towardhim.
Jimmy looked around desperately, but it was too late to escape; he couldonly hope that Miss Osborne would pass without recognizing him. He didnot want her to see him among the group of shabby loungers. His ownclothes were the worse for wear, and he knew that he had a broken-downappearance. The employment bureau's sign suggested what he was doingthere, and he would not have the girl know how low he had fallen. He hadturned his back toward her and pulled his shabby hat low down over hiseyes, when her voice reached him.
"Mr. Farquhar!"
Jimmy turned, thrilled but embarrassed, and Ruth smiled at him.
"I can't compliment you upon your memory," she said.
Jimmy saw that the other men were regarding them curiously. He was notsurprised, for Ruth had a well-bred air and her dress indicated wealthand refinement, while his appearance was greatly against him; but it wasinsufferable that those fellows should speculate about her, and he movedslowly forward.
"I think my memory's pretty good," he answered with a steady glance.
"That makes your behavior worse, because it looks as if you meant toavoid me."
"I'll confess that I did; but I'm not sure that you can blame me. Nodoubt you saw how I was employed?"
Ruth's eyes sparkled and there was more color than usual in her face.
"I do blame you; it's no excuse. Did you think I was mean enough to letthat prevent me from speaking to you?"
"Since you have asked the question, I can't imagine your being mean inany way at all," Jimmy answered boldly. "I'm afraid I was indulging infalse sentiment, but perhaps that wasn't unnatural. We all have ourweaknesses."
"That's true; mine's a quick temper, and you nearly made me angry. Ifeel slighted when people I know run away from me."
"One wouldn't imagine it often happens. Anyhow, I've pleaded guilty."
"Then, as a punishment, you must come with me to our hotel and tell usof your voyage to the North. My father will not be back until late, butI think you'll like my aunt."
Jimmy looked surprised.
"You knew I was in the North?"
"Yes," she answered, smiling. "Does that seem very strange? Perhaps youfind it easy to let a pleasant acquaintance drop."
"I found it very hard," Jimmy said with some warmth.
Then he pulled himself up, remembering that this was not the line heought to take. "After all," he added, "it doesn't follow that afriendship made on a voyage can be kept up ashore. A steamboat officer'sprivileges end when he reaches land."
"Where he seems to lose his confidence in himself. You're eitherunusually modest or unfairly bitter."
"It's not that. I hope I'm not a fool."
Ruth felt half impatient and half compassionate. She understood why hehad made no attempt to follow up their acquaintance; but she thought heinsisted too much upon the difference between their positions in thesocial scale.
"I suppose your father learned where I had gone?"
"No; it was Aynsley Clay who told me. My father certainly asked one ofthe _Empress_ mates what had become of you, but learned only that youhad left the ship. You must remember Aynsley, the yachtsman you met onthe island."
"Yes," said Jimmy incautiously. "My partners and I worked in his milluntil a week or two ago. Then we were turned out."
"Turned out? Why? I can't imagine Aynsley's being a hard master."
"He isn't. We got on very well. I don't believe we owe our dismissal tohim."
Ruth started. She was keen-witted and quick to jump to conclusions.Jimmy's statement bore out certain troublesome suspicions, and sheremembered that she had forced Aynsley to speak about him in Clay'spresence. Perhaps she was responsible for his misfortunes; she feltguilty.
"Then whatever you were doing in the North was not a success?" shesuggested.
"It was not," Jimmy answered with some grimness.
Ruth studied him with unobtrusive interest. It was obvious that he wasnot prospering, and he looked worn. This roused her compassion, thoughshe realized that there was nothing that she could do. The man's pridestood between them.
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "You may be more fortunate another time. Isuppose you have some plans for the future?"
She seemed to invite his confidence, and he saw that her interest wassincere. It was unthinkable that she should have any knowledge of theconspiracy between her father and Clay, but he could not speak to heropenly. Loyalty to his friends prevented his taking such a course,because she might inadvertently mention what she had heard, and it wasimpossible to ask her to keep it secret from her relatives.
"They're indefinite," he answered. "I expect we'll find something thatwill suit us by and by."
She saw that he was on his guard, and felt hurt by his reserve,particularly as she had made several advances which he would not meet.Then, glancing down a street that led to the wharf, she saw, toweringabove the sheds, a steamer's tunnel and a mast from which a white andred flag fluttered.
"That's your old boat; she came in this morning," she said. "I wonderwhether we might go on board? After the pleasant trip we had in her, Ifeel that I'd like to see the ship again."
"As you wish," said Jimmy, with obvious hesitation.
Ruth regretted the mistake that she had made, because she thought sheunderstood his reluctance. He looked as if he had come down in theworld, and would no doubt find it painful to re-visit the boat on boardof which he had been an officer.
"Perhaps there isn't time, after all," she said. "I told my aunt when Iwould be back at the hotel, and we are almost there. She will be glad totalk with you."
Jimmy glanced at the building and stopped. Several luxuriously appointedautomobiles were waiting in front of it, and a group of well-dressedpeople stood on the steps. He felt that he would be out of place there.
"I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse my not coming in," he said.
"But why? Have you anything of importance to do just now?"
"No," said Jimmy with a smile; "unfortunately I can't give that as areason. I wish I could."
"You're not very flattering, certainly."
"I'm sorry. What I meant was that I'd kept you rather long already, andof course one can't intrude."
She looked at him steadily, offering him no help in his embarrassment.
"You're very kind," he said with determined firmness. "But I don'tintend to take advantage of that by coming in."
"Very well," she acquiesced; and, giving him her hand, she let him go.
The calmness with which she had dismissed him puzzled J
immy as he wentaway. He wondered whether he had offended her. He had, no doubt, behavedin an unmannerly way, but there was no other course open. Indeed, it wasfortunate that he had kept his head, and she might come to see that itwas consideration for her that had influenced him. Then he reflectedbitterly that she might not trouble herself any further about the matterand that it would be more useful if he resumed his search for somethingto do.
But Ruth did trouble herself. That evening she and her father weresitting in the rotunda of the big hotel with Aynsley and Clay. Thespacious hall was lavishly decorated and groups of well-dressed men andwomen moved up and down between the columns and sat chatting on thelounges. Some were passengers from the _Empress_ and some leadinginhabitants of the town who, as is not uncommon in the West, dined atthe hotel. Outside there was obviously a fall of sleet, for the men whocame in stamped their feet in the vestibule and shook wet flakes fromthe fur-coats they handed to a porter.
Perhaps it was the air of luxury, the company of prosperous people, andthe glitter of the place, that made Ruth think of Jimmy walking the wetstreets. The contrast between his lot and the comfort she enjoyed wasmarked, and she felt disturbed and pitiful. This, however, could notbenefit Jimmy; and, although he had rather pointedly avoided any attemptto presume upon their friendship or to enlist her sympathy, she longedto offer him some practical help. She must try to find out somethingabout his affairs, using subtlety where needed; while generally frank,she was not repelled by the idea of intriguing, so long as her objectwas good. It was obvious that in Clay she had a clever man to contendagainst; but this rather added to the fascination of the thing, and shehad some confidence in her own ability.
"I met Jimmy Farquhar this afternoon," she said abruptly, speaking toher father.
"The _Empress's_ mate? What is he doing in Vancouver, and why didn't youask him in?"
"He wouldn't come. I gathered that he'd been having rather a hard timelately."
The remark she had made at a venture had not been wasted. Her father'seasy manner was not assumed; it was natural, and convinced her that hewas not connected with Jimmy's misfortunes. This was a relief, but shehad learned something else, for, watching Clay closely, she had seen himfrown. The change in his expression was slight, but she had expected himto exercise self-control and she saw that he was displeased at themention of Farquhar. This implied that he had a good reason for keepinghis dealings with Jimmy in the dark.
"Then I must try to overcome his objections if I run across him," saidOsborne. "I liked the man."
"The C.P.R. pick their officers carefully," Clay remarked with acareless smile at Ruth. "Still, the fellow didn't show much taste whenhe refused your invitation."
"I really didn't feel flattered," Ruth said lightly, wondering whetherhe had imagined that he might learn something from an unguarded reply.
"I guess he's not worth thinking much about. You wouldn't have had toask me twice when I was a young man, but it's my opinion that thepresent generation have no blood in them."
"I believe that's an old idea," Ruth laughed. "Your father may havethought the same of you."
Clay was quick to seize the opportunity for changing the subject.
"You're not right there," he chuckled. "My folks were the props of asmall, back-East meeting house, and did their best to pound the wildnessout of me. It wasn't their fault they didn't succeed, but I'd inheritedthe stubbornness of the old Puritan strain, and the more they tried topull me up the hotter pace I made. That's why I've given Aynsley hishead, and he trots along at a steady clip without trying to bolt."
Ruth paid little attention to what he was saying. She was puzzling aboutClay's connection with Jimmy's affairs, searching for some reason forClay's evident attitude. She was not sorry when he and Osborne rose andturned toward the smoking-room, for she wanted to question Aynsley.
"Why did you turn Jimmy Farquhar out of your mill?" she asked as soon asthey were alone.
Aynsley was taken by surprise.
"As a matter of fact, I didn't turn him out."
"Then did he and his friends go of their own accord?"
"No," said Aynsley with some awkwardness; "I can't say that they did."
"Then somebody must have dismissed them. Who was it?"
He could not evade the direct question, for he had none of his father'ssubtlety, but he felt a jealous pang. Ruth would not have insisted on ananswer unless she had an interest in one of the men. Farquhar was agood-looking fellow with taking manners; but Aynsley erred in imaginingthat she was concerned only about Jimmy. The girl saw that there wasmore in the matter and she was feeling for a clue.
"The old man came along when I was away and cut down the yard gang," heexplained. "He's smart at handling men economically, and thought I waspaying too much in wages."
"But why did he pick out those three? Didn't they work well?"
Aynsley felt confused; but he would not seek refuge in deceit.
"So far as I could see, they were pretty smart; but I'm not so good ajudge. Anyway, he didn't explain."
"Then you asked him about it?"
"Yes," Aynsley answered lamely. "Still, I couldn't go too far. I didn'twant him to think I resented his interfering. After all, he bought methe mill."
Ruth saw that he suspected Clay's motive. So did she, but she did notthink he could tell her anything more, and, to his relief, she changedthe subject.