CHAPTER X

  VERNON'S CURIOSITY

  Silky blue lines streaked the long undulations that ran back to thehorizon and the _Flaminian_ rolled with a measured swing. When her bowswent down the shining swell broke with a dull roar and rainbowsflickered in the spray about her forecastle; then, while the long deckgot level, one heard the beat of engines and the grinding of screws. Awake like an angry torrent foamed astern, and in the distance, where thedingy smoke-cloud melted, the crags of Labrador ran in faint, brokenline. Ahead an ice-floe glittered in the sun. The liner had left BelleIsle Strait and was steaming towards Greenland on the northern Atlanticcourse.

  Harry Vernon occupied a chair on the saloon-deck and read the _MontrealStar_ which had been sent on board at Rimouski. The light reflected bythe white boats and deck was strong; he was not much interested, and putdown the newspaper when Lister joined him. They had met on the journeyfrom Winnipeg to Montreal, and on boarding the _Flaminian_ Lister wasgiven the second berth in Vernon's room. Vernon liked Lister.

  "Take a smoke," he said, indicating a packet of cigarettes. "Nothingfresh in the newspapers. They've caught the fellow Porteous; he wastrying to steal across to Detroit."

  Lister sat down and lighted a cigarette. Porteous was a clerk who hadnot long since gone off with a large sum of his employer's money.

  "Canada is getting a popular hunting ground for smart crooks. It looksas if our business men were easily robbed."

  "There are two kinds of business men; one lot makes things, the otherbuys and sells. Some of the first are pretty good manufacturers, butstop at that. They concentrate on manufacturing and hire a specialist tolook after finance."

  "But if the specialist's a crook, can't you spot him when he gets towork?"

  "As a rule, the men who get stung know all about machines and materialbut nothing about book-keeping," Vernon replied. "A bright accountantcould rob one or two I've met when he was asleep. For example, there wasShillito. His employers were big and prosperous lumber people; clevermen at their job, but Shillito gambled with their money for some timebefore they got on his track. I expect you read about him in thenewspapers?"

  Lister smiled and, pushing back his cap, touched his forehead.

  "I know something about Shillito. That's his mark!"

  "Then you were the man he knocked out!" Vernon exclaimed. "But he hasn'tgot your money. Why did you help the police?"

  "It isn't very obvious. Somehow, I didn't like the fellow. Then, yousee, the girl--"

  "The girl? What had a girl to do with it?"

  Lister frowned. He had not meant to talk about the girl and was angrybecause he had done so, but did not see how he could withdraw hiscareless statement. Moreover Vernon looked interested, and it wasimportant that both were typical Canadians. The young Canadian is notsubtle; as a rule, his talk is direct, and at awkward moments he isgenerally marked by a frank gravity. Vernon was grave now and Listerthought he pondered. He had not known Vernon long, but he felt one couldtrust him.

  "I met a girl on board the train," he said. "She was keen about gettingaway from Shillito."

  "Why did she want to get away?"

  "I don't know. Looked as if she was afraid of him. When I first saw hershe was on the car platform and I reckoned she was bracing herself tojump off. Since we were running across a trestle, I pulled her from thesteps. That's how the thing began."

  "But it didn't stop just then?"

  "It stopped soon afterwards," Lister replied. "She wanted to get off andgo East; the train was bound West, but we were held up at a side-track,and I put her on board a gravel train locomotive."

  "Then she went East!" said Vernon thoughtfully, and studied the other.

  Lister sat with his head thrown back and the sun on his brown face. Hislook was calm and frank; his careless pose brought out the lines of histhin but muscular figure. Vernon felt he was honest; he knew Lister'stype.

  "She went off on board our construction locomotive," Lister replied.

  "But I don't see yet! Why did you meddle? Why did she give you herconfidence?"

  "She didn't give me her confidence," Lister said, and smiled. "Shewanted to get away and I helped. That's all. It's obvious I wasn't outfor a romantic adventure, because I put her off the train."

  Vernon nodded. Lister's argument was sound; besides, he did not looklike a philanderer.

  "Then you don't know who she is?"

  "I don't know. She didn't put me wise and my business was not to botherher."

  "What was she like? Did you guess her age? How was she dressed?"

  Lister lighted a fresh cigarette. Vernon's keenness rather puzzled him,but he thought he had told the fellow enough. In fact, he doubted if thegirl would approve his frankness. He was not going to state that he hadmet her at Montreal. Anyhow, not yet. If Vernon talked about the thingagain and gave proper grounds for his curiosity, he might perhapssatisfy him.

  "She was young," he answered vaguely. "Attractive, something of alooker, I think. I don't know much about women's clothes."

  "Oh, well!" said Vernon. "You helped her off and Shillito found this outand got after you?"

  "He got after me when he saw he was corraled," Lister replied, andnarrated his struggle on the platform. He was now willing to tell Vernonall he wanted to know, but saw the other's interest was not keen andthey presently began to talk about something else.

  "What are you going to do in the Old Country?" Vernon asked.

  "I have no plans. For a time, I guess I'll loaf and look about. Then Iwant to see my father's folks, whom I haven't met."

  "Your father was English?"

  "Why, yes," said Lister, smiling. "If you reckon up, you'll find a bigproportion of the staunchest Canadians' parents came from the OldCountry. In fact, I sometimes feel Canada belongs to us and the boys ofthe sourdough stock. Between us we have given the country its stamp andmade it a land for white men; but we'll soon be forced to make good ourclaim. If we're slack, we'll be snowed under by folks from EasternEurope whose rules and habits are not ours."

  Vernon nodded. "It's a problem we have got to solve. But are you goingback to the railroad when you have looked about?"

  "I'm going back some time, but, now I have pulled out, I want to see allI can. I'd like to look at Europe, Egypt and India."

  "Wandering around costs something," Vernon remarked.

  "That is so. My wad's small, but if I've not had enough when it's usedup, I'll look for a job. If nothing else is doing, I'll go to sea."

  Vernon's smile was sympathetic and he looked ahead, over the dippingforecastle to the far horizon. The sea shone with reflected light and aniceberg glimmered against the blue. He felt the measured throb ofengines and the ship leap forward. Vernon was a young Canadian andsprang from pioneering stock. The vague distance called; he felt thelure of going somewhere.

  "If the thing was possible, I'd go with you," he said. "All the same,I'm tied to business and the old man can't pull his load alone. My job'sto stick to the traces and help him along. But do you know much aboutthe sea?"

  "I was engineer on board a Pacific coasting boat and a wheat barge onthe Lakes."

  "Well," said Vernon thoughtfully, "I know an English shipping boss whomight help you get a berth. I'd rather like you to meet him, but we'lltalk about this again. Now let's join those fellows at deck-quoits."

  Their friendship ripened, but it was not until the last day of thevoyage Vernon said something more about the English ship-owner._Flaminian_ was steaming across the Irish Sea, with the high blue hillsof Mourne astern and the Manx rocks ahead. Vernon lounged on thesaloon-deck and his face was thoughtful as he looked across the shiningwater.

  "We'll make Liverpool soon after dark, and if I can get the train Iwant, I'll pull out right then," he said. "You allowed you might try arun on board an English ship before you went back?"

  "It's possible," said Lister. "Depends on how my wad holds out and onsomebody's being willing to give me a post."

  Vernon nodded. "That's whe
re I'm leading." He stopped, and Listerwondered why he pondered. The thing did not seem worth the thought hiscompanion gave it.

  "I reckon you don't know Cartwright of the Independent Freighters, buthe could put you wise about getting a ship," Vernon resumed. "I'mstopping for a week or two at his country house. The freighters aresmall boats, but Cartwright's worth knowing; in fact, to know him issomething of an education. In the West we're pretty keen business men,and I've put across some smart deals at the Winnipeg Board of Trade, butI'll admit Cartwright would beat me every time. Where do you mean tolocate?"

  Lister said he was going to the neighborhood of a small country town inthe North of England, and was puzzled by Vernon's start.

  "That fixes it! The thing's strangely lucky. Cartwright's country houseis not far off. You had better come along by my train. Soon after Iarrive I'll get Mrs. Cartwright to ask you across."

  "I mustn't bother your friends," said Lister. "Besides, I really don'tknow if I want to go to sea."

  "All the same, you'll come over to Carrock. You ought to know Cartwrightand I reckon he'll like to know you. I have a notion you and he wouldmake a good team."

  Lister wondered whether Vernon had an object for urging him to meet hisfriend, but this looked ridiculous.

  "What's Cartwright like?" he asked carelessly.

  "My notion is, Cartwright's unique. You imagine he's something of ahighbrow Englishman, rather formal and polite, but he has an eye like afish-hawk's and his orders go. Hair and mustache white; you don't knowif his clothes are old or new, but you feel they're exactly what heought to wear. That's Cartwright, so to speak, on top; but when you meethim you want to remember you're not up against a Canadian. We're astraight type. When we're tough, we're very tough all the time; whenwe're cultivated, you can see the polish shine. In the Old Country it'sharder to fix where folks belong."

  "You imply that you have got to know Cartwright before you fix him?"

  Vernon laughed. "I haven't quite fixed him yet. At one time he's a sobergentleman of the stiff old school; at another he's as rough as theroughest hobo I've met in the West. I reckon he'd beat a business crookat the other's smartest trick, but if you're out for a straight deal,you'll find Cartwright straight."

  He went off to change some money and Lister went to his cabin and beganto pack his trunk. When he came up they had passed the Chicken Rock anda long bright beam touched the sea astern. In the East, water and skyfaded to dusky blue, but presently a faint light began to blink as if itbeckoned. The light got brighter and gradually drew abeam. The foamingwake glimmered lividly in the dark, the beat of screws seemed quicker,and Lister thought the ship was carried forward by a stream of tide.

  Other lights began to blink. They stole out of the dark, got bright, andvanished, and Lister, leaning on the rails, felt they called him on. Oneknew them by their colors and measured flashes. They were beacons,burning on a well-ordered plan to guide the navigator, but he did notknow the plan. In a sense, this was important, and he began to muse.

  Now he would soon reach the Old Country, he felt he had made a momentousplunge. Adventure called, he knew Canada and wanted something fresh, buthe wondered whether this was all. Perhaps the plunge had, so to speak,not been a thoughtless caprice. In a sense, things had led up to it andmade it logical. For example, it might not have been for nothing he metthe girl on the train and got hurt. His hurt had kept him at Winnipegand stopping there had roused his discontent. Then he had met Vernon,who wanted him to know the English ship-owner. It was possible thesethings were like the flashes that leaped out of the dark. He would knowwhere they pointed when the journey was over. Then Lister smiled andknocked out his pipe.

  When he went on deck again some time afterwards the ship was steeringfor a gap between two rows of twinkling lights. They ran on, closing oneach other, like electric lamps in a long street, and in front the skyshone with a dull red glow. It was the glimmer of a great port, theywere entering the Mersey, and he went off to get up his luggage.

  PART II--THE RECKONING