Partners of the Out-Trail. Harold Bindloss
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packer laughed. "That's a sure thing! We reckoned we were fixed well and had better stop with a boss we knew. Besides, now we've a dame for commissary, the hash is pretty good."
Jake went back to the hotel, disturbed about Probyn, but satisfied with his men. The two who had gone were strangers, but two of the rest had been with him in the North and the others had worked upon the telegraph line. One could trust them. For all that, he was quiet when they set off on the muddy trail that plunged into the bush. A cold wind blew the rain in their faces, the horses stumbled in the holes, and the wet men grumbled as they plodded through the mud. They knew the wilderness and felt themselves a small company for the work they must do. Moreover, Jake imagined they might have to meet the antagonism of rich and unscrupulous rivals.
"You don't say much," he remarked to Jim.
"One doesn't say much the morning one pulls out to start a big job. Anyhow, I'll own it's not my habit. For one thing, I know what we're up against," Jim replied. Then he saw Jake's twinkle, and smiled. "My notion is you have been quieter than me."
"Oh, well," said Jake, "you're not always very bright, but this trip's a picnic after some we've made. If we go broke, we can come down again; the last time we took the North trail we had to make good or freeze."
"You hadn't your sister with you then."
"That's so," Jake agreed. "I reckon it makes some difference. Perhaps you had better go ahead and talk to her. Carrie's rather fed up, but she mayn't be as frank to you."
Jim urged the pack-horse he was leading and came up with Carrie, who was a short distance in front. He wondered what he had better talk about, but found it easier to amuse her than he had thought. Carrie did not look tired now; she had a touch of color and her eyes were bright. She laughed at his remarks, although he admitted that his humor was clumsy, and did not seem to mind when the horse splashed her with mud. Carrie had pluck, but he imagined her cheerfulness was forced. By and by a knot on the pack-rope slipped and some tools and cooking pans fell with a clash. When Jim began to pick them up Carrie stopped a yard or two in front.
"You needn't hurry; I'll go on," she said. "It's cleaner away from the horses, and one can look for the dry spots."
Jim gave her a quick glance. Although she smiled, her voice had a note of strain. It had not been easy for her to pretend and he had forced her to the effort.
"I'm sometimes dull, but I mean well," he said apologetically.
"Of course, you meant well. Jake sent you, didn't he? He knows something about my moods."
Jim colored and, seeing his embarrassment, she laughed.
"You don't deserve that; I get mad now and then. The thing's my fault, any way. I started well, but hadn't grit enough to keep it up. However, hadn't you better pick those pans out of the mud?"
Jim replaced the articles and when he had refastened the load waited for Jake.
"It looks as if Carrie had turned you down," the latter remarked.
"I'm not surprised," Jim rejoined. "I've been talking like a drummer when she wanted to be alone."
"Oh, well," said Jake, "you haven't a very light touch, but I expect she saw your intention was good."
"She did not; she saw you had sent me. Your sister is cleverer than you think."
Jake grinned and pulled his horse round a hole. "They're all cleverer than we think. Sometimes it's an advantage and sometimes a drawback. Anyhow, I guess I won't meddle again. Carrie will make good if we leave her alone——"
He turned, for the horse behind them pushed forward and bit the animal he led.
"Watch out!" he shouted. "Drive your beast on!"
Jim did so and then stopped a few yards off, while the animals plunged round each other and a man behind ran up. Jake, sticking to the bridle, was dragged about; his horse's load struck against a tree and a flour-bag burst. While he tried to stop the white stream running from the hole, the other horse seized his arm and shook him savagely. Its driver joined in the struggle with a thick branch, and the men and animals floundered about the trail while the flour ran into the mud.
"Let up with the club!" Jake shouted. "The dried apples have gone now. You have hit the bag."
"Hold your beast, then," gasped the other. "This trouble's not going to stop until mine gets in front."
Jake with an effort pulled the kicking animal between two trees and there was quietness when the other passed. It looked round for a moment, and then plodded forward steadily while the desiccated apples ran down on the trail.
"Now we'll stop and fix those bags," Jake remarked. "Why in thunder did you let the brute go, Bill?"
"He was mushing along good and quiet and I wanted to light my pipe. Reckon he forgot he wasn't in his place."
Then they heard a laugh and saw Carrie close by. Jake was covered with mud and flour, and his hat, which had been trampled on, hung over his hot face.
"You look the worse for wear," she said.
"I guess I feel like that," Jake replied, indicating his torn overalls. "Putting some of the damage right will be a job for you, but my hat's past your help. You wouldn't think it cost three dollars, not long since!"
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