Alton of Somasco. Harold Bindloss
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between them had grown stronger. Her father's appeared a trifle less refined in its chiselling than it had been, and there was a look which did not please her in his eyes. It suggested cupidity and cunning in place of intellectuality.
"Well," said Hallam, "you'll call on me at Vancouver anyway, and it's possible we may be some use to each other."
The hint of a confidence or understanding between them which the man's tone conveyed irritated the girl, but she saw that her father did not resent it. "Yes," he said. "If I think I can benefit by your co-operation in any way I will not fail to let you know."
Hallam went in, and Deringham leaned upon the verandah balustrade smoking tranquilly while the shadows that left the rolling mist behind crept higher and higher up the climbing pines until at last they touched and smeared into dimness the ethereal snow. Then the girl rose with a shiver and turned towards her father as Horton lighted the big lantern at the door. Deringham's face was, she fancied, a trifle haggard.
"I wonder why you have borne with that man so long," she said.
Deringham smiled a little. "There are many kinds of men, and presumably all of them are useful in their place," said he.
CHAPTER V
THE HEIR OF CARNABY
The sun was dipping towards the black ridge of firs on the shoulder of a hill when Deringham and his daughter rode down the winding trail into the Somasco valley. The girl gazed about her with eager curiosity, but the man who rode in silence apparently saw nothing, and it was only when his horse stumbled into a rut that he glanced round for a moment abstractedly. Deringham had much to occupy his mind just then, for while it was generally understood that he had made the journey at a physician's recommendation, he had reasons for choosing British Columbia to recuperate in.
He still retained control of the finances of Carnaby with the concurrence of the trustees, who were country gentlemen of no business capacity, and as it suited the family lawyer to remain on good terms with him nothing more than a very perfunctory account of his stewardship had been demanded. The late owner of Carnaby had been a man of simple tastes and unbending pride, who had a faint contempt for his kinsman, and refrained from inquiries respecting finances while there was no stoppage of supplies. There were one or two men who suspected that Deringham had profited by his relative's supineness, but it was only a vague surmise, and they did not know that the legacy bequeathed him had little more than an apparent value. Deringham had been unfortunate in his latest ventures, and could foresee considerable difficulty in extricating himself from a distinctly unpleasant position if the new heir decided to take immediate possession of his property. The latter had, however, shown no great desire to do so, and Deringham had accepted a commission from the trustees to ascertain his intentions.
A company of which he was one of the promoters had also invested somewhat unhappily in Western mines, and Deringham, who purposed to see what could be done with the depreciated securities, intended that the expenses of his sojourn in the mountain province should be borne by the shareholders. He had acquired considerable facility in the art of managing them, but the owner of Carnaby was an unknown quantity and Deringham was anxious.
Presently his daughter reined in her pony. "Stop a moment, father.
That must be the ranch," she said.
The man drew bridle, and for a moment forgot his perplexities as he gazed at the scene before him. Far down in the valley lay a still blue lake with a great white peak shining ethereally at its northern end. Dark pines rolled about it, growing smaller and smaller up the hillside until they dwindled with spires clean cut against the azure into a gossamer filigree. Between them and the water stupendous forest shrouded all the valley, save where an oblong of pale verdure ran back from the fringe of boulders and was traversed by the frothing streak of a river whose roar came up hoarsely across the pines in long pulsations.
That was all Deringham saw at first sight, but he realized that it was very beautiful, and then commenced to note details with observant eyes. There was a sawmill beside the river, for he could faintly hear a strident scream and see the blue smoke drifting in gauzy wisps across the hill. The square log-house which stood some little distance from the lake looked well built and substantial, and the road that wound through the green oblong had been skilfully laid with rounded strips sawn off the great fir-trunks. Sleek cattle stood apparently ready for dispatch in a corral, the yellowing oats beyond them were railed off by a six-foot fence, and behind the rows of sawn-off stumps which ringed about the clearing great trunks and branches lay piled in the confusion of the slashing. Deringham was not a farmer, but he was a man of affairs, and all he saw spoke to him of prosperity that sprang from strenuous energy and administrative ability.
"You are very silent," said his daughter. "What are you thinking?"
Deringham laughed a little, somewhat mirthlessly. "It occurs to me that whatever our unknown relative may be he is a good rancher, if this is his handiwork," he said. "Well, we shall see him very shortly."
The girl's fingers tightened a little on the switch she held. "We know what we shall find," she said with a gesture of cold disdain. "It would be so much easier if he had only been an educated Englishman!"
"Still," said Deringham dryly, "since we are ousted from Carnaby I do not see that it makes any great difference."
Miss Deringham's eyes sparkled, and a spot of colour tinged her cheeks.
Her mother had been one of the Altons who had long been proud of
Carnaby, and the instincts of the landholding race were strong within
her.
"No?" she said, with a little scornful inflection. "And you could look on while a cattle-driving boor made himself a laughing-stock at Carnaby?"
Deringham smiled again. "I am," he said, "inclined to feel sorry for the Canadian, but you will at least be civil to him."
Miss Deringham made a little gesture of impatience. "You do not suppose I should be openly resentful?" she said.
Her father still appeared ironically amused. "I do not know that it would be necessary, but I fancy the Canadian will have cause to regret he is an Alton," he said. "No doubt it would be some solace to you to make him realize his offences, but I scarcely think it would be advisable."
Then they rode down into the valley, through oatfields, and between the tall fir-stumps that rose amidst the fern, under the boughs of an orchard, and up to the square log-house. Nobody came out to receive them, or answered their call, and Deringham, dismounting, helped his daughter down, and tethering the horses passed through the verandah into the house. The long table in the big log-walled room they entered was littered with unwashed plates. Torn over-alls and old knee-boots lay amidst the axes and big saws in one corner, the dust was heavy everywhere, and rifles and salmon-spears hung upon the walls. There was no sign of taste or comfort. Everything suggested grim utility, and the house was very still. The girl, who was tired, sat down with a little gesture of dismay.
"This is worse and worse," she said.
Deringham, who was fond of his daughter, laid a hand upon her shoulder reassuringly. "You can go on to Vancouver when you wish," said he. "Sit still and rest, while I see if there is anybody about."
He strolled round the homestead, and noticed that log barns and stables were all well built, while presently he found a man plucking fowls in a galvanized shed. There was a row of them before him, all without heads, while an ensanguined axe close by indicated the fashion of their execution. He glanced at Deringham a moment, and then fell to work again.
"Oh, yes, this is Somasco, and the finest ranch this side of the Fraser," he said. "Can you see Mr. Alton? Well, I figure he's busy, and you had better wait a little. Get hold of this. It's your supper."
Deringham recoiled a pace when a somewhat gory fowl struck him on the knee,