Harold Bindloss - The Mistress of Bonaventure

It was still snowing, and the drifts were deep, but I managed to plunge my feet into the hollows left by somebody who had preceded me, and there was a bottle of brandy in my pocket. I returned, floundering as heavily as possible along my outward tracks – for one learns a good deal when trailing wandering steers or stalking antelope – and met Cotton, who now carried his carbine. It was evident that he was bent on discharging his duty thoroughly, for when I announced that no horses were missing, he answered shortly: "Thanks; but I'm going myself to see. Mackay and Mr. Haldane are waiting for you."

I smiled to myself. Trooper Cotton had acquired small proficiency in the art of tracking, and I knew that my footprints would not only deceive him, but that, following them, he would obliterate evidence that might have been conclusive to the sergeant's practiced eyes. All the male inmates of Bonaventure had gathered, half-dressed, in the hall, and Sergeant Mackay, who was asking questions, turned to me. "Ye were here when he came in, Rancher Ormesby?"

"I was," I answered. "I didn't hear him until he was in the room; but he seemed starving, and presumably ran the risk in the hope of obtaining food."

"Why did ye not seize him or raise the alarm?" asked the sergeant; and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I was wholly unarmed, and he is a desperate man with a pistol. You may remember mentioning that his capture was not my business."

"I mind that I have seen ye take as heavy risks when, for a five-dollar wager, ye drove a loaded sledge over the rotten ice," said the sergeant, with a searching glance at me. "While ye did nothing Trooper Cotton came in to help ye?"

"Just so! He had no weapon either, but appeared quite willing to face the outlaw's pistol, when the candle went out, and the man must have slipped out by the second door in the dark. I made for the stables at once, but all the horses were safe. My own, I discovered earlier, had come back by itself."

"Ye showed little sense," said Mackay; while Haldane glanced curiously at me. "What would he do with a horse in two foot of snow? There are points I'm no' clear about; but there'll be time for questions later. Ah! Found ye anything, Trooper Cotton?"

"No," said the lad. "Nothing but the footprints made by Ormesby; and I can only presume that, there being no lee on that side, the wind would fill the horse-thief's track with snow. He would never risk trying the outbuildings when he knew that we were here."

"No," was the sergeant's answer. "He'll be for the ravine. We'll take our leave, Mr. Haldane, with thanks for your hospitality, leaving the horses in the meantime. It is a regret to me we have brought this disturbance upon ye."

Two minutes later the police had vanished into the snow, and in another ten Bonaventure was almost silent again. I went back to my couch and slept soundly, being too wearied to wonder whether I had done well or ill. Next morning Haldane called me into a room of his own.

"My daughter has told me what took place last night, and while, in one sense, I'm indebted to you, Ormesby, I really can't decide whether you showed a lamentable lack of judgment in abetting her," he said. "She is a brave little soul, but does not always spare time to think. Frankly, I wish this thing had not come about as it did."

He spoke seriously, but there was a kindliness in his eyes, and it was easy to see that Carson Haldane's younger daughter was his idol, which slightly puzzled me. There were those who heaped abuse upon his head, and it is possible his financial operations did not benefit everybody, for when men grow rich by speculation somebody must lose. There are, however, many sides to every nature, and I always found him an upright, kindly gentleman, while only those who knew him best could guess that he was faithful to a memory, and that the gracious influence of one he had lost still swayed him.

"I am sorry if I acted indiscreetly, sir; but I could think of no other course at the time," I said. "Do you know where the man is now?"

"It is sometimes unwise to ask questions, and I have not inquired too closely," and Haldane laid his hand on my shoulder. "It must be our secret, Ormesby, and I should prefer that Miss Haldane did not share it; this – I suppose one must call it an escapade – might trouble her. I presume you could rely on that lad's discretion. He was evidently not brought up for a police trooper."

"I think you could depend on him, sir; and, as you know, a good many others in this country follow vocations they were never intended for."

"Well, we will say no more on that subject," he answered. "The doctors tell me I have been working under too great a strain, and as they recommend quiet and relaxation, I decided to try six months' practical ranching. My partner will no doubt arrange that other folks pay the bill; but this is hardly a peaceful beginning."

Haldane laughed before he added, significantly: "In one respect I'm duly grateful, Ormesby, and – in confidence – here is a proof of it. You are staking high on the future of this region. Well, the railroad will be built, which will naturally make a great difference in the value of adjacent land. You will, however, remember that, in accordance with medical advice, I am now ranching for my health."

I remembered it was said that Carson Haldane could anticipate long before anybody else what the powers at Ottawa would sanction or veto, and that a hint from him was valuable. "It is good news, and I presume that Bonaventure will have extended its boundaries by the time you recover, sir," I said.

That evening Sergeant Mackay returned to requisition provisions, and departed again. He was alone, and very much disgusted, having no news of the fugitive. He did not revisit Bonaventure during the next day I remained there, and presumably the man he sought slipped away when the coast was clear. Perhaps the fact that the whirling drifts would obliterate his tracks had deceived the sergeant, and we supposed the contrabandists who dealt in prohibited liquor had smuggled him across the American frontier. The night before I took my leave Beatrice Haldane looked across at her sister, who sat sewing near the stove, and then at me.

"Since you recovered your horse I am not altogether sorry the hunted man got away," she said. "There are, however, two things about the affair which puzzle me – how the candlestick my sister carried when she made the rounds reached the table in the hall where it is never left; and why I should find the candle it contained under the sideboard in the room the intruder entered! Can you suggest any solution, Mr. Ormesby?"

I felt uncomfortable, knowing that Beatrice Haldane was not only clever herself, but the daughter of a very shrewd man, while her eyes were fixed steadily on me. Lucille's head bent lower over her sewing, and, though I would have given much to answer frankly, I felt that she trusted me. So I said, as indifferently as I could: "There might be several, and the correct one very simple. Somebody must have knocked the candlestick over in his hurry and forgotten about it. Have you been studying detective literature latterly?"

Beatrice Haldane said nothing further; but I realized that I had incurred her displeasure, and was not greatly comforted by the grateful glance her sister flashed at me.

It was a hot morning of early summer when I rode up the low rise to my house at Gaspard's Trail. A few willows straggled behind one side of it, but otherwise it rose unsheltered from the wind-swept plain, which, after a transitory flush of greenness, had grown dusty white again. I had been in the saddle since sunrise, when the dewy freshness had infused cheerfulness and vigor into my blood, but now it was with a feeling of dejection I reined in my horse and sat still, looking about me.