Читать книгу The Secret of the Reef - Harold Bindloss - Страница 10

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A light wind faintly ruffled the landlocked water when the Cetacea crept up to her anchorage off a small lumber port on the eastern coast of Vancouver Island. A great boom of logs was moored near the wharf, and stacks of freshly cut lumber and ugly sawdust heaps rose along the beach. Behind these were tall iron chimney-stacks, clusters of wooden houses, and rows of fire-blackened stumps; then steep, pine-clad hillsides shut the hollow in. Though there were one or two steamers at anchor, and signs of activity in the streets, the place had a raw, unfinished look; but the Cetacea’s crew were glad to reach it. Cramped by their narrow quarters on board, it was a relief to roam at large; and the resinous smell that hung about the port was pleasant after the stinging saltness of the spray.

But they had come there on business, and Bethune presently stopped a man they met.

“Which is the best and biggest general store in the town?” he asked.

“Jefferson’s; three blocks farther on. He’s been here since the mills were started.”

“Is it necessary to go to the best store?” Jimmy inquired as they went on.

Bethune laughed.

“Oh, no! Now that we’ve found out which it is, we can try somewhere else. I’ve a suspicion that our business won’t have much attraction for a prosperous dealer who can choose his customers. It’s the struggling man who’s readiest to take a risk.”

“We’ll leave it to you,” Jimmy said confidently. Bethune had arranged their commercial transactions with tact and shrewdness, and they had discovered that it was far from easy to obtain supplies without paying cash for them.

After strolling through the town, they entered a small, wooden store, which had an inscription, “T. Jaques: Shipping Supplied,” and found its proprietor leaning idly on the counter. He was a young man with an alert manner, but, although he was smartly dressed, Bethune, studying him, imagined that he had not yet achieved prosperity. Indeed, he thought he saw signs of care in the man’s keen face.

Taking out his notebook, he enumerated the supplies they wanted, and examined samples. The provisions were good; the store was neatly kept and fairly well stocked; but Jimmy, leaning on the counter and looking about, thought the goods had been arranged with some skill to make the biggest show possible, which implied that the dealer had not much of a reserve. Then, while the man talked to Bethune, Jimmy noticed a woman approach the glass door at the back and stop a moment as if she were interested in the proceedings. All this suggested that his comrade had offered their custom at the right place. The provisions would not be a large item, but they needed ropes, chain, and marine supplies, which would cost a good deal more.

“I can send the small stores off whenever you want, but I can’t give you the other truck until the Vancouver boat comes in, and that won’t be for four days,” Jaques said. He looked rather eager as he added: “I guess you can wait?”

“Oh, yes. I expect it will be a week before we get off.”

“Then, I’ll wire the order. You’ll pay on delivery?”

“That,” answered Bethune, smiling, “is a point we must talk about. I think I could give you ten dollars down.”

The dealer’s face fell and he looked thoughtful.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I’d certainly like this order. What’s your proposition?”

“I don’t know that I have one ready. Perhaps I’d better tell you how we stand and leave you to suggest a way out of the difficulty.”

“Come into the back store and take a smoke,” invited Jaques; and they followed him into an apartment which seemed to serve as warehouse, general living room, and kitchen. A young woman was busy at the stove, and after looking up with a smile of welcome she went on with her cooking; but Jimmy felt that she had given him and his comrades a keen scrutiny.

Jaques brought them chairs and laid a few cigars on the table.

“Now,” he said to Bethune, “you can go ahead.”

“First of all, I want your promise to keep what I tell you to yourself.” Bethune glanced quietly toward the woman.

“You have it, and you can trust Mrs. Jaques. Susie does all her talking at home; and there’s a good deal of her own money in this store. That’s why I brought you in. I allow she’s sometimes a better judge than I am.”

Bethune bowed to Mrs. Jaques; and then, to Jimmy’s surprise, he began a frank account of their financial difficulties and their salvage plans. When it came to their doings at the wreck, he made a rather moving tale of it, and Mrs. Jaques listened with her eyes fixed on the speaker and a greasy fork poised in her hand. Jimmy wondered whether Bethune was acting quite judiciously in telling so much. The storekeeper leaned an elbow on the table, his brows knitted as if in thought; and Moran sat still with an expressionless brown face. Except for Bethune’s voice it was very quiet in the small, rudely furnished room, and Jimmy surmised that the projected deal was of some importance to its occupants. It was certainly of consequence to his own party, for they could not continue operations without supplies.

“There’s a bond on your boat already,” Jaques objected, when Bethune paused.

“For about half her value. We could demand a public sale if she were seized, and the balance would clear your debt.”

“It’s hard to get full price for a vessel that’s too small for a regular trade. You allowed you bought her cheap?”

“We did,” Bethune carelessly answered. “Still, one has to take a risk.”

They were interrupted by a knocking, and Jaques went into the store and did not return for some minutes.

“Nolan, the river-jack,” he explained, as he came in. “Wanted gum-boots, and I thought I’d better let him have them; though he hasn’t paid for the last pair yet.”

“That,” Bethune smiled, “bears out my argument.”

Jaques looked at his wife, and she made a sign of assent, as if she understood him.

“Supper’s nearly ready, and you had better stay,” he said. “It’s plain fare, but you won’t find better biscuits and waffles than Susie’s in the province. Besides, it will give us time to think the thing over.”

They were glad to accept the invitation, and no more was said about business while they enjoyed the well cooked and daintily served meal. Jimmy was conscious of a growing admiration for his neat-handed hostess, with her bright, intelligent face, and her pretty but simple dress, and he tried to second Bethune in his amusing chatter. Jaques did not say much, but he looked pleased. As for Moran, he steadily worked his way through the good things set before him. His one remark was: “If we strike grub like this, ma’am, we’ll want to stop right in your town.”

“Then my husband will lose his order,” Mrs. Jaques replied, and though she laughed, Jimmy thought her answer had some significance.

When she cleared the table Jaques lighted a cigar and smiled rather grimly when Jimmy inquired if trade was good.

“Well,” he said, “it might be better—that’s one reason why I’d like to make a deal with you. There’s less money in keeping store than you might suppose. I’ve been two years in this town, and my customers are mostly of the kind the beginner gets—those who can’t pay up in time, and those who don’t mean to pay at all. The ones worth having go to the other man.”

“Where were you before?” Jimmy asked.

“In Toronto. But the wages I was making in a department store were not enough to marry on. With a few dollars Susie had left her and with what I’d saved we thought we might make a start; but there’s not much room for the small man now in the eastern cities, and we came out West. It’s a pull all along; but we’d make some progress if the blame bush settlers would pay their bills.”

Jimmy felt sympathetic. The man did not look as if he found the struggle easy.

“Have you got your business fixed?” Mrs. Jaques asked, coming in from an adjoining room.

“Not yet,” Bethune answered. “I’ve a suspicion that your husband was waiting for you; and I couldn’t object, because I ventured to believe you would say a word in our favor.”

Mrs. Jaques studied him keenly. He was a handsome man, with graceful manners, and she thought him honest; and it was difficult to associate duplicity with Jimmy’s open face.

“Well,” she promised, “I’ll go as far as I can.”

“Then we’ll get down to business.” Jaques turned to his guests. “You feel pretty sure you’ll find the gold when you get back?”

“No,” said Jimmy frankly. “We hope so; but we can’t even be sure we’ll find the wreck. The gale may have broken her up and buried her in the sand.”

“Then, if your plan falls through, I won’t get paid.”

“That’s taking too much for granted. There’ll be something left over if we have to sell the boat, and we’re able to earn more than our keep on the wharf or in the mills. Your debt would have the first claim on us.”

“It would take you a long time to wipe it off on what you’d save out of two dollars a day.”

“Very true,” Bethune admitted. “To clear the ground, I suppose you believe we’d try?”

“We’ll take it that you mean to deal straight with me. Anyway, you believe you have a pretty good chance of getting at the gold?”

“I think it’s a fair business risk. In proof of this, we’re going back to do our best if you will give us the supplies we want. We wouldn’t be willing to incur the liability unless we had some hope of success.”

“Very well; you don’t suggest my letting you have the truck and taking a partner’s share on the strength of it?”

“No,” Bethune answered decidedly; “not unless you press the point.”

Mrs. Jaques nodded as if she had approved of the question and found the answer reassuring. It implied that the adventurers thought the scheme good enough to keep to themselves.

“I’d rather my husband stuck to his regular line,” she said.

“Then,” said Bethune, “this is my proposition: Give us the goods, and charge us ten per cent. interest until they’re paid for. You’ll get it as well as the principal, sooner or later.”

Jaques looked at his wife; and she made a sign of assent.

“Well, it’s a deal!”

A half-hour later, when they rose to go, Jimmy turned to his hostess.

“While your husband has treated us fairly,” he said, “we have to thank you, and that makes it a point of honor to show you were not mistaken.”

He noticed now that there were wrinkles which suggested anxious thought already forming about her eyes, and that her hands were work-hardened; but she smiled at him.

“One learns in keeping store that a customer’s character is quite as important as his bank account.”

“That’s the nicest thing I’ve had said about me since I came to British Columbia!” Bethune declared gaily.

Mrs. Jaques smiled.

“If you find the evenings dull before you sail, come in and talk to us,” she said.

When they went outside, Bethune made a confession.

“I felt strongly tempted to take our custom somewhere else. They’re nice people, and it looks as if they found it hard enough to get along.”

“Whatever happens, they must be paid,” Jimmy declared.

“Yes,” agreed Moran, who seldom expressed his opinion except on nautical matters; “that’s a sure thing!”

“How would it do to ask them to a picnic on one of the islands?” Bethune suggested. “It would be an afternoon’s outing, and it’s generally smooth water here. I shouldn’t imagine Mrs. Jaques gets many holidays.”

The others thought it a good idea; and when the sloop was refitted and ready for sea, Bethune put his suggestion into practice. His guests were pleased to come, and with a moderate breeze rippling the blue water, they ran up the straits in brilliant sunshine. Jimmy laid a cushion for Mrs. Jaques near the wheel, and her rather pale face lighted up when he asked if she would steer. He saw that she knew how by the way she held the spokes.

“This is delightful!” she exclaimed, as they sped on swiftly. “I used to go sailing now and then at Toronto, but all the time we have lived here I’ve never been on the water.”

She glanced in a half-wistful manner at the sparkling sea. A gentle surf made a snowy fringe along the shingle beach, and beyond that dark pinewoods rolled back among the rocks toward blue, distant peaks. Overhead, the tall, white topsail swayed with a measured swing across the cloudless sky. Silky threads of ripples streamed back from the bows, and along the Cetacea’s side there was a drowsy gurgle and lapping of water.

“You’re to be envied when you sail away,” Mrs. Jaques said, with something that was almost a sigh. “Still, it isn’t all sunshine and smooth water in the North.”

“By no means,” Jimmy assured her. “I can think of a number of occasions when I’d gladly have exchanged the sloop for your back room, or, for that matter, for a yard or two of dry ground.”

“One can imagine it,” she laughed. “Well, you have to face the gale and fog, while we try not to be beaten by Jefferson and to meet our bills. I don’t know which is the harder.”

Jimmy felt compassionate. She was young, but she had a careworn look, and he surmised that she found life difficult in the primitive wooden town. It seemed to be all work and anxious planning with her; there was something pathetic in the keen pleasure she took in her rare holiday.

Late in the afternoon they dropped anchor in a rock-walled cove with a beach of white shingle on which sparkling wavelets broke. Dark firs climbed the rugged heights above, and their scent drifted off across the clear, green water. Bethune, who had been busy cooking, brought up an unusually elaborate meal and laid it out on the cabin top with the best glass and crockery he had been able to borrow. His expression, however, was anxious as he served the first course to his guests.

“I’ve done my best. I used to think I wasn’t a bad cook; but after the supper Mrs. Jaques gave us, I’m much less confident,” he said. “It’s easier to get proud of yourself when you have nothing to compare your work with, and your critics are indulgent. Jimmy’s been very forbearing; and it’s my opinion that Moran would eat anything that’s fit for human food.”

“I’ve had to,” Moran retorted. “Anyway, I’ve seen you set up worse hash than this.”

There were no complaints, and the appetite every one showed was flattering. They jested and talked with great good humor; until at last Moran indicated the lengthening shadow of the mast which had moved across the deck.

“It’s mighty curious, but we’ve been an hour over supper, and there’s something left. Guess I never spent more’n about ten minutes at my grub before.”

Bethune took a bottle from a pail of ice in a locker and filled the borrowed glasses.

“To our happy next meeting!” he proposed. “Our guests, who have made the trip possible, will not be forgotten while we are away.”

The glasses were drained and filled again, and Mrs. Jaques turned to her hosts with a cordial smile.

“May you win the success you deserve!” she responded; and a few minutes afterward Bethune, beckoning Moran, went forward to raise the anchor.

The light was fading when they hove the Cetacea to near the wharf and a boat came off. With many good wishes Jaques and his wife went ashore, and the sloop stood away for the lonely North.