Footsteps sounded on the bare boards of the sidewalk and I turned to find Peter Trevedian coming toward us. “Where’s Bladen gone,” he asked Jean.
“I don’t know,” she said.
Trevedian grunted and turned to me. “He came to see you late last night. Did he say why he was leaving?”
“He probably regarded that as his own business.”
Trevedian looked at me hard for a moment. Then he grunted and turned on his heel and went into the hotel.
“He’s worried,” Jean said. Her hand touched my arm. “Be careful. You don’t look as though you could go many rounds with him.”
I was gazing after Trevedian. “Maybe not,” I said. “But I’d like to. It was his brother who took that report up to my grandfather. And he sent him.”
“I know,” she said. “Boy told me about the reception committee that greeted you when you got back to the hotel last night. That was Peter’s work too. Be careful,” she repeated. “Stay in Come Lucky, will you, till Boy gets back?”
I took her advice for the next two days and saw quite a lot of her. Meantime, Creasy and his construction gang broke through the fall where the avalanche had carried the old road away, and the talk after the evening meal was all of opening up the camp at the head of the creek and getting the hoist working.
On Saturday Mac handed me a telegram.
CONVINCED FIGURES NOT MINE. SEND WINNICK THOSE FROM KINGDOM SOONEST POSSIBLE. ROGER FERGUS DIED TWO DAYS AGO. LEAVING FOR PEACE RIVER. SIGNED, BLADEN.
I thanked him and went up to my room. So Roger Fergus was dead and that was that. I was back where I’d started, and the Kingdom was as far away as ever.
Creasy was late that day and when he came in we had almost finished tea. “Well, we’re through to the camp,” he said as he lowered himself into his chair. “We should reach the hoist by midday tomorrow.”
“Does Peter know this?” James McClennan asked him.
“Yes. I told him. He wants you to go down and have a word with him this evening. I think he’s pretty anxious to see that hoist working.”
“He doesn’t have to worry about the hoist,” McClennan answered, “It’ll work all right; I built it to last.”
I got to my feet and returned to my room. Ever since the night I had told them I wasn’t selling the Kingdom my presence had produced a strained atmosphere. It made me very dependent upon Jean for company and upon the hospitality of the two Miss Garrets.
When I went down there that evening it was raining hard and blowing half a gale from the west. Miss Sarah Garret opened the door to me.
“Come in, Mr. Wetheral; come in.” She shut the door. “My sister and I were so sorry to hear about the death of Roger Fergus.”
I stared at her. “How did you know he was dead?”
“But you received a telegram from Boy today saying so.”
I wondered whether Trevedian, too, knew the contents of that wire yet, and if so, what he was going to do about it. I wished now I had told Bladen to write.
She smiled at me and her eyes twinkled. “So sensible of you to get Boy to do the organizing side of your venture.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Why?” She tapped me with her fingers. “Go on with you. Think I don’t know why? I was young once, you know, and I understand only too well how lonely it can be for a girl up here in Come Lucky.”
She gave a little tinkling laugh and then turned quickly at the sound of footsteps. “Ah, here she is,” she said as Jean entered the room.
“I gather you know about the wire I got from Boy,” I said.
She nodded, “Miss McClellan was here two hours ago with the details of it. The news will be all over Come Lucky by now.” She took me through into her own room. “You look tired,” she said as she poured me a drink.
“I feel it,” I answered. “It seems so hopeless. Henry Fergus now owns the mineral rights of the Kingdom.”
“It’ll work out,” she said quietly. “You see. You’ve got a good partner in Boy. Once he gets hold of an idea, he doesn’t easily let go. He’ll find somebody to back you.”
She had spoken with a warmth that was unusual in her. “Are you in love with him?” I asked.
She stared at me in sudden shocked surprise and then turned away. “We’ll talk about the Kingdom, not me, if you don’t mind,” she said, in a voice that trembled slightly.
“Why has Boy gone to Peace River, do you know?” I asked her.
She started slightly. “Has he? I didn’t know.” Her voice was fiat. She turned and looked at me. “He was working there during the winter.”
For some reason she had withdrawn into herself. I left shortly after that and returned to the hotel. As I was starting upstairs Pauline came out of the kitchen. “Jimmy is going up to the dam tomorrow.”
“When?”
“They leave tomorrow after breakfast; he is going with Ben.”
“Tell him I’d like to come with him, provided he’ll take me to the top if the hoist is working.”
“Yes, I will tell him that.” She flashed me a smile. “Good night, Bruce.”
“Good night, Pauline.”
I went up to my room, suddenly too excited to think of reading. At last I was going to get a glimpse of the Kingdom.
I was called at seven. By the time I got down, the men were already having breakfast. Pauline brought me mine.
“So you’re going up to have a look at the dam. Mr. Wetheral?” old Mac said.
“I gather your son’s willing to take me up,” I said.
He nodded and belched at the same time. “Jamie will take ye up.” He turned to his son. “Take him up the hoist, Jamie; and let him see the place for himself.”
McClellan nodded. He finished his coffee at a gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and got to his feet. “Okay, Ben?” Creasy nodded and pushed back his chair. McClellan turned to me. “You ready, Wetheral?”
I went up to get my boots and a raincoat. A truck was waiting for us down by the bunkhouse — the same one that had brought me to Come Lucky. Max Trevedian was loading drums of Diesel fuel into the back. Peter Trevedian came slithering down through the mud toward us.
“All set?” he asked.
“Just about,” McClellan said.
“Well, what do you want here, Wetheral?” I turned to find Peter Trevedian coming toward me.
“McClellan offered to take me up to have a look at the dam,” I said.
“He did, did he?” He called to McClellan and took him to one side.
“It can’t do any harm,” I heard McClellan say.
Finally Trevedian said, in a voice that was loud enough for me to hear, “Well, he’s not coming up in one of my trucks. If he wants to go up there, he can find his own way up.”
McClellan said something, but Trevedian turned with a shrug and climbed into the cab of the truck.
McClellan hesitated, glancing at me. Then he came over. “I’m sorry, Wetheral,” he said. “Trevedian says there isn’t room for all of us. I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you behind.”
“And you take your orders from him?”
He glanced at me quickly, a hard, angry look in his eyes. Then he turned away, and he and Creasy climbed into the cab. The engine roared and I stood there watching the truck as it slithered through the mud. The Kingdom seemed as far away us ever.
I went slowly back to the hotel. Mac was in the bar when I entered. “Are ye not going up to the hoist wi’ Jamie?”
“Trevedian refused to take me,” I said.
He growled something under his breath. “Well, I’ve a message for you. Two friends of yours are down at Hundred-and-Fifty-Mile House. Phoned up to find out whether you were still here.”
“Two friends?” I stared at him. “Who were they?”
“Johnny Carstairs and a fellow called Jeff Hart. Said they’d be up here this afternoon to see you if the road wasn’t washed out.”