The Blue Goose

by Frank Lewis Nason

  CHAPTER XII

  _Figs and Thistles_

  Though Zephyr had not explained his plan of operations in detail,Firmstone found no difficulty in comprehending it. It was of primeimportance to have the river watched by an absolutely trustworthy man,and Firmstone was in no danger of having an embarrassing number fromwhom to choose. A day or two of cold, cloudy weather was liable to occurat any time, and this, checking the melting of the snow, would lower theriver to a point where it would be possible to search for, and torecover the safe.

  It was with a feeling of relief that he tacitly confided the guarding ofthe river to Zephyr. While he offered no opposition to Zephyr's carryingout his scheme of having his mysterious disappearance reported, he wasfully satisfied that it would not deceive Pierre for an instant.Firmstone, however, was deceived in another way. It was a case ofharmless self-deception, the factors of which were wholly beyond hiscontrol. His reason assured him unmistakably that Hartwell would startat once for Colorado on learning of the loss of the bullion, and thatthe manager would be a hindrance in working out his plans, if indeed hedid not upset them entirely.

  Firmstone's confidence in his ability to emerge finally triumphant fromhis troubles came gradually to strengthen his hope into the belief thathe would be let alone. A telegram could have reached him within a weekafter he had reported the loss, but none came. He was now awaiting aletter.

  The bridge had been repaired, and travel resumed. A meagre account ofthe accident had been noted in the Denver, as well as in the localpapers, but no hint was given that it was considered otherwise than asan event incidental to mountain travel. The miraculous escape of thedriver was the sole item of interest. These facts gratified Firmstoneexceedingly. Pierre was evidently satisfied that the cards were in hisown hands to play when and as he would. He was apparently well contentto sit in the game with Firmstone as his sole opponent. Firmstone wasequally well content, if only----

  There came the sharp click of the office gate. Inside the railing stooda slender man of medium height, slightly stooped forward. On his leftarm hung a light overcoat. From a smooth face, with a mouth whose thinlips oscillated between assumed determination and cynical half-smiles, apair of grey eyes twinkled with a humorously tolerant endurance of thefrailties of his fellow-men.

  "Well, how are you?" The gloved right hand shot out an accompaniment tohis words.

  Firmstone took the proffered hand.

  "Nothing to complain of. This is something of a surprise." This was truein regard to one mental attitude, but not of another. Firmstone voicedhis hopes, not his judgment.

  "It shouldn't be." The eyes lost their twinkle as the mouth straightenedto a line. "I'm afraid you hardly appreciate the gravity of thesituation. The loss of $50,000 is serious, but it's no killing matter toa company with our resources. It's the conditions which make such lossespossible."

  "Yes." Firmstone spoke slowly. The twinkle was in his eyes now. "As Iunderstand it, this is the first time conditions have made such a losspossible."

  The significance of the words was lost on Hartwell. The possibility of aview-point other than his own never occurred to him.

  "We will not discuss the matter now. I shall be here until I havestraightened things out. I have brought my sister with me. Her physicianordered a change of air. Beatrice, allow me to introduce mysuperintendent, Mr. Firmstone."

  A pink and white face, with a pair of frank, blue eyes, looked out fromabove a grey travelling suit, and acknowledged the curt introduction.

  "I am very happy to meet you." Firmstone took the proffered hand in hisown.

  Miss Hartwell smiled. "Don't make any rash assertions. I am going to behere a long time. Where are you going, Arthur?" She turned to herbrother, who, after fidgeting around, walked briskly across the room.

  "I'll be back directly. I want to look after your room. Make yourselfcomfortable for a few minutes." Then addressing Firmstone, "I suppose ourquarters upstairs are in order?"

  "I think so. Here are the keys. Or will you allow me?"

  "No, thanks. I'll attend to it." Hartwell took the keys and left theroom.

  Firmstone turned to Miss Hartwell.

  "What kind of a trip did you have out?"

  "Delightful! It was hot and dusty across the plains, but then I didn'tmind. It was all so new and strange. I really had no conception of thesize of our country before."

  "And here, even, you are only a little more than half way across."

  "I know, but it doesn't mean much to me."

  "Does the altitude trouble you?"

  "You mean Marshall Pass?"

  "Yes. In part, but you know Denver is over five thousand feet. Somepeople find it very trying at first."

  "Perhaps I might have found it so if I had stopped to think. But I hadsomething else to think of. You know I had a ridiculous sensation, justas if I were going to fall off the world. Now you speak of it, I reallythink I did gasp occasionally." She looked up smilingly at Firmstone. "Isuppose you are so accustomed to such sights that my enthusiasm seems abore."

  "Do you feel like gasping here?"

  "No; why do you ask?"

  "Because you are a thousand feet higher than at Marshall Pass, and herewe are three thousand feet below the mine. You would not only have thefear of falling off from the world up there, but the danger of it aswell."

  Miss Hartwell looked from the office window to the great cliff that rosehigh above its steep, sloped talus.

  "I told Arthur that I was going to see everything and climb everythingout here, but I will think about it first."

  "I would suggest your seeing about it first. Perhaps that will beenough."

  Hartwell bustled into the room with a preoccupied air. "Sorry to havekept you waiting so long."

  Miss Hartwell followed her brother from the room and up the stairs.

  "Make yourself as comfortable as you can, Beatrice. I gave you fullwarning as to what you might expect out here. You will have to look outfor yourself now. I shall be very busy; I can see that with half aneye."

  "I think if Mr. Firmstone is one half as efficient as he is agreeableyou are borrowing trouble on a very small margin." Miss Hartwell spokewith decided emphasis.

  "Smooth speech and agreeable manners go farther with women than they doin business," Hartwell snapped out.

  "I hope you have a good business equipment to console yourself with."

  Hartwell made no reply to his sister, but busied himself unstrapping hertrunk.

  "Dress for supper as soon as you can. You have an hour," he added,looking at his watch.

  Hartwell did not find Firmstone on re-entering the office. He seatedhimself at the desk and began looking over files of reports of mine andmill. Their order and completeness should have pleased him, but, fromthe frown on his face, they evidently did not.

  Firmstone, meanwhile, had gone to the cook-house to warn Bennie of hiscoming guests, and to advise the garnishing of the table with thewhitest linen and the choicest viands which his stores could afford.

  "What sort of a crowd are they?" Bennie inquired.

  "You'll be able to answer your own question in a little while. That willsave you the trouble of changing your mind."

  "'Tis no trouble at all, sir! It's a damned poor lobster that doesn'tknow what to do when his shell pinches!"

  Firmstone, laughing, went to the mill for a tour of inspection beforethe supper hour. Entering the office a little later, he found Hartwellat his desk.

  "Well," he asked, "how do you find things?"

  Hartwell's eyes were intrenched in a series of absorbed wrinkles thatthrew out supporting works across a puckered forehead.

  "It's too soon to speak in detail. I propose to inform myself generallybefore doing that."

  "That's an excellent plan."

  Hartwell looked up sharply. Firmstone's eyes seemed to neutralise theemphasis of his words.

  "Supper is ready when you are. Will Miss Hartwell be down soon?"

  Miss Hartwell rustled into the room,
and her brother led the way to thecook-house.

  Bennie had heeded Firmstone's words. Perhaps there was a lack ofdelicate taste in the assortment of colours, but scarlet-pinks, deep redprimroses, azure columbines, and bright yellow mountain sunflowersglared at each other, each striving to outreach its fellow above amatted bed of mossy phlox. Hartwell prided himself, among other things,on a correct eye.

  "There's a colour scheme for you, Beatrice; you can think of it in yournext study."

  Bennie was standing by in much the same attitude as a suspiciousbumble-bee.

  "Mention your opinion in your prayers, Mr. Hartwell, not to me. They'reas God grew them. I took them in with one sweep of my fist."

  Miss Hartwell's eyes danced from Firmstone to Bennie.

  "Your cook has got me this time, Firmstone." Hartwell grinned hisappreciation of Bennie's retort.

  They seated themselves, and Bennie began serving the soup. Hartwell wasthe last. Bennie handed his plate across the table. They were a littlecramped for room, and Bennie was saving steps.

  "It's a pity you don't have a little more room here, Bennie, so youcould shine as a waiter."

  "Good grub takes the shortest cut to a hungry man with no remarks onstyle. There's only one trail when they meet."

  Hartwell's manner showed a slight resentment that he was trying toconceal. "This soup is excellent. It's rather highly seasoned"--helooked slyly at Bennie--"but then there's no rose without its thorns."

  "True for you. But there's a hell of a lot of thorns with the roses, Itake note. Beg pardon, Miss!"

  Miss Hartwell laughed. "You have had excellent success in growing themtogether, Bennie."

  "Thank you, Miss!" Bennie was flushed with pleasure. "I've heard tellthat there were roses without thorns, but you're the first of the kindI've seen."

  Bennie had ideas of duty, even to undeserving objects. Consequently,Hartwell's needs were as carefully attended to as his sister's orFirmstone's, but in spite of all duty there is a graciousness of mannerthat is only to be had by a payment in kind. Bennie paraded his duty asostentatiously as his pleasure, and with the same lack of words.Hartwell noted, and kept silence.

  Hartwell looked across to the table which Bennie was preparing for themill crew.

  "Do you supply the men as liberally as you do your own table,Firmstone?"

  "Just the same."

  "Don't think I want to restrict you, Firmstone. I want you to have thebest you can get, but it strikes me as a little extravagant for themen."

  Bennie considered himself invaded.

  "The men pay for their extravagance, sir."

  "A dollar a day only, with no risks," Hartwell tendered, rather stiffly.

  "I'll trade my wages for your profits," retorted Bennie, "and give you acommission, and I'll bind myself to feed them no more hash than I donow!"

  The company rose from the table. For the benefit of Miss Hartwell andFirmstone, Bennie moved across the room with the dignity of adrum-major, and, opening the door, bowed his guests from his presence.