Geraldine recoiled. She thought that he meant to seize her; he was
capable of it. Indeed, he moved a pace or two, but this gave her an
opportunity for reaching the door. There she turned and saw that he
was watching her with a curious grim smile.
"The subject is closed," she said. "You have behaved hatefully!"
Escaping into the hall, she sought her room and shut herself in. She
felt humiliated, and, although there had once or twice been something
ludicrous in the situation, the man's overbearing boldness had
strongly impressed her. She was afraid of him; he would not readily be
beaten.
Mappin left the house without speaking to Frobisher and returned to
the Landing. The next day he sent for the packer who was to lead the
party taking up Andrew's supplies. The fellow was some time in coming
and Mappin waited for him in a threatening mood. Geraldine's blush had
filled him with jealous hatred. Allinson was a dangerous rival. Let
him beware!
"You know the Whitefish Creek," he said to the man he had summoned.
"What lies between the forks?"
"A piece of high and very rough country; muskegs full of little pines
mussed up with blown trees in the hollows."
"Well," said Mappin, "you'll cache the supplies for Allinson where
I've put the cross on this map. Think you've got it right?"
"Yes," answered the packer. "It must be near the tall butte, a piece
up the creek. That's a pretty good mark."
"Then there's the other lot of supplies. You can see the place for
them on the height of land, south of the Whitefish."
The man glanced at the map and nodded.
"We'll dump those first. Everything's ready. We'll pull out as soon as
I can get the boys together."
He left the room and Mappin lighted a cigar. He felt somewhat nervous,
as if he had undergone a strain.
"If Allinson gets through, I'll allow he's the better man," he mused.
CHAPTER XV
THE SILVER LODE
A half-breed stood on the river bank beside his dog-team while Andrew
handed Carnally the packs from the sled. It was late in the afternoon,
the valley was swept by driving snow, and the men's hands were so
numbed that they found it difficult to strap on their heavy loads. The
ice was several feet in thickness on the deeper pools, but the stream
ran strong along the opposite shore, and its frozen surface was rough,
and broken in places by pools of inky water.
"It would save some trouble if we made our caches among these
boulders," Graham suggested.
"That's so," agreed Carnally. "Still I guess it would be safer on the
other side, where we'll strike it sooner coming back. It's wise to
take no chances in this country."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account