CHAPTER V
CORNERING THE BOBCAT
The next evening Harding was taking out a cigar in the vestibule when aman brushed past him wearing big mittens and a loose black cloak suchas old-fashioned French-Canadians sometimes use.
"Why, Blake!" he cried. "What have you got on? Have you beenserenading somebody?"
"I can't stop," Blake answered with a grin. "Open that door forme--quick!"
A porter held back the door, but as Blake slipped through, Hardingseized his cloak.
"Hold on! I want a talk with you!"
Blake made an effort to break loose, and as he did so a bobcat droppedfrom beneath his arm and fell, spitting and snarling, to the floor.Its fur was torn and matted, tufts were hanging loose, and the creaturehad a singularly disreputable and ferocious appearance. Blake made anattempt to recapture it, but, evading him easily, it ran along thefloor with a curious hopping gait and disappeared among the pillars.Then he turned to his friend with a rueful laugh.
"You see what you've done! It's gone into the rotunda, where everybodyis."
Harding looked at him critically.
"You seem sober. What ever possessed you to get yourself up like anItalian opera villain and go round the town with a wild beast underyour arm?"
"I'll tell you later," Blake laughed. "What we have to do now is tocatch the thing."
"It's time," drawled Harding. "The circus is beginning."
Men's laughter and women's shrieks rose from the rotunda. Somebodyshouted orders in French, there was a patter of running feet, and thena crash as of chairs being overturned. Blake sprang in, and Hardingfollowed, divided between amusement and impatience. They saw ananimated scene. Two porters were chasing the bobcat, which now andthen turned upon them savagely, while several waiters, keeping at ajudicious distance, tried to frighten it into a corner by flourishingtheir napkins. Women fled out of the creature's way, men hastily movedchairs and tables to give the pursuers room, and some of the moreenergetic joined in the chase. At one end of the room, Mrs. Keithstood angrily giving instructions which nobody attended to. Millicent,standing near her, looked hot and unhappy, but for all that her eyestwinkled when a waiter, colliding with a chair, went down with a crashand the bobcat sped away from him in a series of awkward jumps.
At last, Blake managed to seize it with his mittened hands. He rolledit in a cloth and gave it to a porter, and then advanced toward Mrs.Keith, his face red with exertion but contrite, and the cloak, whichhad come unhooked, hanging down from one shoulder. She glanced at himin a puzzled, half-disturbed manner when he stopped.
"As the cat belongs to me," she said imperiously, "and as I'm told youdropped it in the vestibule, I feel that I'm entitled to anexplanation. I gave the animal to my maid this morning, sending MissGraham to see it delivered to a veterinary surgeon, and it disappeared.May I ask how it came into your possession?"
"Through no fault of Miss Graham's, I assure you. I happened to noticeyour maid trying to carry an awkwardly shaped hamper, and Miss Grahamlooking for a cab. It struck me the thing was more of a man's errandand I undertook it."
"It's curious that you knew what the errand was, unless Miss Grahamtold you." Mrs. Keith looked sternly at Millicent, and the girlblushed. "I have been led to believe that you made her acquaintance,without my knowledge, on board the steamer by which we came up."
"That," said Blake respectfully, "is not quite correct. I was formallypresented to Miss Graham in England some time ago. However, as I saw acar coming along St. Catharine's while your maid was looking for ahack, and there was no time to explain, I scribbled a note on a bit ofa letter and gave it to a boy to deliver to Miss Graham, and then Itook the cat to a taxidermist."
"To a taxidermist! Why?"
"It struck me that he ought to know something about the matter.Anyway, he was the nearest approach to a vet that I could find."
Mrs. Keith looked at him thoughtfully.
"You seem to have a curious way of reasoning. What did the man say?"
"He promised to engage the services of a dog-fancier friend of his."
"You imagined that a dog-fancier would specialize in cats?"
Millicent's eyes twinkled, but Mrs. Keith's face was serious andBlake's perfectly grave.
"I don't know that I argued the matter out. To tell the truth, Iundertook the thing on impulse."
"So it seems. But you haven't told me what became of my hamper."
"The hamper was unfortunately smashed. I left it at a basket shop; andthat explains the cloak. My friend, the taxidermist, insisted onlending it and his winter gloves to me. One looks rather conspicuouswalking through the streets with a bobcat on one's arm."
Then, to Blake's astonishment, Mrs. Keith broke into a soft laugh.
"I understand it all," she said. "It was a prank one would expect youto play. Though it's a very long time since I saw you, you haven'tchanged, Dick. Now take that ridiculous cloak off and come back andtalk to me."
When Blake returned, Millicent had gone, and Mrs. Keith noticed theglance he cast about the room.
"I sent Miss Graham away," she said. "You have been here some days.Why didn't you tell me who you were?"
"I wasn't sure you would be willing to acknowledge me," he answeredfrankly.
"Oh, I never quite agreed with the popular opinion about what you weresupposed to have done. It wasn't like you; there must have beensomething that did not come out."
"Thank you," Blake said quietly.
She gave him a searching glance.
"Can't you say something for yourself?" she urged.
"I think not. The least said, the soonest mended, you know."
"But for the sake of others."
"So far as I know, only one person was much troubled about my disgrace.I'm thankful my father died before it came."
"Your uncle felt it very keenly. He was furious when the first newsarrived, and refused to believe you were to blame. Then, when MajorAllardyce wrote, he scarcely spoke for the rest of the day, and it wasa long time before he recovered from the blow; I was staying atSandymere. He loved you, Dick, and I imagined he expected you to doeven better than his son."
Blake mused for a few moments, and Mrs. Keith could not read histhoughts.
"Bertram is a good fellow," he said. "Why should his people think lessof him because he likes to paint? But I've been sorry for the Colonel;more sorry than I've felt for myself."
There was a softness in his dark blue eyes that appealed to Mrs. Keith.She had been fond of Dick Blake in his younger days and firmly believedin him. Now she could not credit his being guilty of cowardice.
"Well," she said, "you have a long life before you, I trust; and thereare people who would be glad to see you reinstated."
He made a sign of grave dissent.
"That can't happen, in the way you mean. I closed the door of the oldlife against my return, with my own hands; and you don't gaindistinction, as the Challoners think of it, in business."
"What business have you gone into?"
Blake's eyes gleamed humorously.
"At present, I'm in the paint line."
"Paint!" Mrs. Keith exclaimed.
"Yes, but not common paint. We use the highest grade of lead and thepurest linseed oil. Varnish also of unapproachable quality, guaranteedto stand exposure to any climate. There's nothing to equal ourproducts in North America."
"Do you seriously mean that you are going about selling these things?"
"I'm trying to. I booked an order for two kegs yesterday, but it isn'tto be paid for until arrival, when I shall not be here. Can't I induceyou to give us a trial? Your house must need painting now and then,and we'll ship you the stuff to Liverpool in air-tight drums. Once youhave tried it you'll use nothing else."
Mrs. Keith laughed.
"Dick, you're a marvel! I'm glad adversity hasn't soured you; but youknow that you won't make enough to keep you in neckties at any businessyou take up. It's ludicrous to thi
nk of your running about with paintsamples!"
"You seem to doubt my ability," Blake said humorously. "Here comes myAmerican partner. He has been waiting for a word with me since thismorning."
"And you kept him waiting? That was a true Blake. But bring him here.I want to know your friend."
They spent a pleasant evening; and the next afternoon Blake and Hardingdrove up the mountain with Mrs. Keith and one or two others. The citywas unpleasantly hot and the breeze that swept its streets blew cloudsof sand and cement about, for Montreal is subject to fits of feverishconstructional activity and on every other block buildings were beingtorn down and replaced by larger ones of concrete and steel. Leavingits outskirts, the carriage climbed the road which winds in loopsthrough the shade of overhanging trees. Wide views of blue hills andshining river opened up through gaps in the foliage; the air lost itshumid warmth and grew fresh and invigorating.
Reaching the level summit, they found seats near the edge of a steep,wooded slope. The strip of tableland is not remarkably picturesque,but it is thickly covered with trees, and one can look out across avast stretch of country traversed by the great river.
When the party scattered, Mrs. Keith was left with Harding. They were,in many ways, strangely assorted companions--the elderly English ladyaccustomed to the smoother side of life, and the young American who hadstruggled hard from boyhood--but they were sensible of a mutual liking.Mrs. Keith had a trace of the grand manner, which had its effect onHarding; he showed a naive frankness which she found attractive.Besides, his talk and conduct were marked by a labored correctnesswhich amused and pleased her. She thought he had taken some trouble toacquire it.
"So you had to leave your wife at home," she said presently. "Wasn'tthat rather hard for both of you?"
"It was hard enough," he replied with feeling. "What made it worse wasthat I hadn't much money to leave with her; but I had to go. The manwho will take no chances has to stay at the bottom."
"Then, if it's not an impertinence, your means are small?"
"Your interest is a compliment. We had two hundred dollars when wewere married. You wouldn't consider that much to begin on?"
"No. Still, of course, it depends upon what one expects. After all, Ithink my poorest friends have been happiest."
"We had only one trouble--making the money go round," Harding told herwith grave confidence. "It was worst in the hot weather, when otherpeople could move out of town, and it hurt me to see Marianna lookingwhite and tired. I used to wish I could send her to one of the farmsup in the hills--though I guess she wouldn't have gone without me.She's brave, and when my chance came she saw that I must take it. Shesent me off with smiles; but I knew what they cost."
"Courage to face a hard task is a great gift. So you consider thistrip to the Northwest your opportunity? You must expect to sell a gooddeal of paint."
Harding looked up with a sudden twinkle.
"I'll admit to you, ma'am, that I expect to sell very little. Thecompany will pay my commission on any orders I get at the settlements,but this is my venture, not theirs. I'm going up into the wilds tolook for a valuable raw material."
"Ah!" said Mrs. Keith. "I suspected something like this. It'sdifficult to imagine Dick Blake's going into anything so sober andmatter-of-fact as the paint business. Have you known him long?"
"I met him a year ago, and we spent two or three weeks together."
"But was that long enough to learn much about him? Do you know hishistory?"
Harding gave her a direct glance.
"Do you?"
"Yes," she said; "and I gather that he has taken you into hisconfidence."
"Now you set me free to talk. When I asked him to be my partner, hetold me why he had left the army. That was the square thing, and itmade me keen on getting him."
"Then you were not deterred by what you learned?"
"Not at all. I knew it was impossible that Blake should have done whathe was charged with."
"I agree with you; but, then, I know him better than you do. What madeyou jump to the conclusion?"
"You shall judge whether I hadn't good reason. I was in one of ourlake ports, collecting accounts, and Blake had come with me. It waslate at night when I saw my last customer at his hotel, and I had avalise half-full of silver currency and bills. Going back along thewaterfront where the second-rate saloons are, I thought that somebodywas following me. The lights didn't run far along the street, I hadn'tseen a patrol, and as I was passing a dark block a man jumped out. Igot a blow on the shoulder that made me sore for a week, but the fellowhad missed my head with the sandbag, and I slipped behind a telegraphpost before he could strike again. Still, things looked ugly. The manwho'd been following came into sight, and I was between the two. ThenBlake ran up the street--and I was mighty glad to see him. He had twomen to tackle, and one had a sandbag, while I guess the other had apistol."
"But you were there. That made it equal."
"Oh, no; I'd been nearly knocked out with the sandbag and could hardlykeep my feet. Besides, I had my employers' money in the valise, and itwas my business to take care of it."
Mrs. Keith made a sign of agreement.
"I beg your pardon. You were right."
"Blake got after the first thief like a panther. He was so quick Ididn't quite see what happened, but the man reeled half-way across thestreet before he fell, and when his partner saw Blake coming for him heran. Then, when the trouble was over, a policeman came along, and heand Blake helped me back to my hotel. Knowing I had the money, he'dgot uneasy when I was late." Harding paused and looked meaningly athis companion. "Later I was asked to believe that the man who went forthose two toughs with no weapon but his fists ran away under fire. Thething didn't seem plausible."
"And so you trust Blake, in spite of his story?"
"The Northwest is a hard country in winter and I may find myself in atight place before I've finished my search," Harding answered withgrave quietness. "But if that happens, I'll have a partner I can trustmy life to. What's more, Mrs. Harding feels I'm safe with him."
Mrs. Keith was moved; his respect for his wife's judgment and his faithin his comrade appealed to her.
"Tell me something about your journey," she said.
While they talked, Millicent and Blake sat in the sunshine on the slopeof the hill. Beneath them a wide landscape stretched away toward theOttawa valley, the road to the lonely North, and the girl felt alonging to see the trackless wilds. The distance drew her.
"Your way lies up yonder," she said. "I suppose you are thinking aboutit. Are you looking forward to the trip?"
"Not so much as Harding is," Blake replied. "He's a bit of anenthusiast; and I've been in the country before. It's a singularlyrough one, and I anticipate our meeting with more hardships than money."
"Which doesn't seem to daunt you."
"No; not to a great extent. Hardship is not a novelty to me, and Idon't think I'm avaricious. The fact is, I'm a good deal better atspending than gathering."
"It's undoubtedly easier," the girl laughed. "But, while I like Mr.Harding, I shouldn't consider him a type of the romantic adventurer."
"You're right in one sense and wrong in another. Harding's out formoney, and I believe he'll get it if it's to be had. He'll avoidadventures so far as he can, but if there's trouble to be faced, itwon't stop him. Then, he has left a safe employment, broken up hishome, and set off on this long journey, for the sake of a woman who istrying to hold out on a very few dollars in a couple of poor roomsuntil his return. He's taking risks which, I believe may be serious,in order that she may have a brighter and fuller life. Is there noromance in that?"
What Blake said about his comrade's devotion to his wife appealed tothe girl, and she mused for a moment or two. She liked Blake and heimproved upon acquaintance. He had a whimsical humor and a dash ofreckless gallantry. He was supposed to be in disgrace, but she hadcause to know that he was compassionate and chivalrous.
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"You haven't been with us long," she said, "but we shall be duller whenyou have gone."
"That's nice to hear; but it's with mixed feelings that one leavesfriends behind. I've lost some good ones."
"I can imagine your making others easily; but haven't you retained oneor two? I think, for instance, you could count on Mrs. Keith."
"Ah! I owe a good deal to her. A little charity, such as she shows,goes a very long way."
Millicent did not answer, and he watched her as she sat looking outinto the distance with grave brown eyes. Her face was gentle; hethought there was pity for him in it, and he felt strongly drawn toher; but he remembered that he was a man with a tainted name and musttravel a lonely road.
Some of the others joined them, and soon afterward they walked down thewinding road to the city. There Harding found some letters he had beenwaiting for, and there was now nothing to keep them in Montreal.
Mrs. Keith was gracious to Blake when he went to say good-by the nextmorning, but he felt a strong sense of disappointment at finding heralone. He looked around for Millicent, and then, as he was going out,he met her in the hall. She wore her hat, and the flush of color inher face indicated that she had been walking fast.
"I'm glad I didn't miss you," she said. "You are going now, by theVancouver express?"
"Yes," answered Blake, stopping beside a pillar; "and I was feelingrather gloomy until I saw you. Harding's at the station, and it'sdepressing to set off on a long journey feeling that nobody minds yourgoing."
"Mrs. Keith will mind," smiled Millicent. "I'm sure you have her goodwishes."
Blake looked at her keenly.
"I want yours."
"You have them," she said softly. "I haven't forgotten what happenedone evening in London. I wish you a safe journey and every possiblesuccess!"
"Thank you! It will be something to remember that you have wished mewell."
As his eyes rested upon her he forgot that he was a marked man. Shelooked very fresh and desirable; there was a hint of regret and pity inher face and a trace of shyness in her manner.
"I suppose I can't ask you to think of me now and then; it would be toomuch," he said, a little bitterly. "But I want you to know that thesefew days of your friendship have meant a great deal to me. I wish"--hehesitated a moment--"that I might have something of yours--some littlememento--to take with me on my trip."
Millicent took a tiny bunch of flowers from the lace at the neck of herwhite dress, and handed them to him with a smile.
"Will these do? They won't last very long."
"They will last a long time, well taken care of. When I come back, Iwill show them to you."
"But I shall be in England then."
"England is not very far off; and I'm a wanderer, you know."
"Well," she said with faint confusion, "unless you hurry you will missyour train. Good-by, and good fortune!"
He took the hand she gave him and held it a moment.
"If your last wish is ever realized, I shall come to thank you, even inEngland."
He turned and went out with hurried steps, wondering what had led himto break through the reserve he had prudently determined to maintain.What he had said might mean nothing, but it might mean much. He hadseen Millicent Graham for a few minutes in her father's house, andafterward met her every day during the week spent in Montreal; but,brief as their friendship had been, he had yielded to her charm. Hadhe been free to seek her love, he would eagerly have done so; but hewas not free. He was an outcast, engaged in a desperate attempt torepair his fortune. Miss Graham knew this. Perhaps she had taken hisremarks as a piece of sentimental gallantry; but something in hermanner suggested a doubt. Anyway, he had promised to show her theflowers again some day, and he carefully placed them in his pocketbook.