CHAPTER XIX
The Commissioner showed symp
toms of apoplexy. “You could be
ailed for holding back testimony."
' ‘ Martha Samp bristled.
“Sakes alive, could I? Because I
waited for M’s. Hale to tell herself,
she ’s been a loyal wife. She’s been
through hell without whimpering. I
knew when she got to thinking she’d
straighten things out. The world’s
j uS t bubblin’ with stories of man’s
loyalty to man, but there isn’t so
m uch said about woman’s loyalty to
woman, an’ letting het tell her own
s tory was my idea of loyalty to
her.”
“Suppose she hadn’t told?”
“She did, didn’t she? But I pro
vided against that. When I’ve read
about trials it’s seemed to me that
testimony re-hashed months after
the crime took place couldn’t be
very accurate. The morning after
the shootin’ I wrote down everything
I’d heard and seen. Sealed it. Took
it to the radio man. He stamped it
with place and date just as he does
letters that go out. Here it is.” She
handed the Commissioner an enve
lope. He turned it over in his hand.
Conferred with the deputy. Rose.
“My associate and I agree that
the late Joe Hale met his death by
accident. The inquest is closed.”
* ♦ *
All you little doughboys come and
get your chow!” The ringing call of
the bugle pierced Bruce Harcourt’s
absorption as he left the Samp cab
in. Would he find Janice at the of
fice, or would she have gone to
luncheon? She had slipped away di
rectly after the Commissioner had
pronounced a verdict of accidental
shooting. Paxton, immaculately at
tired, with deep lines of exhaustion
about his eyes and an apparent
stiffness in every joint, had come
in, had announced an afternoon de
parture. He had offered to take
anyone who wanted to go back to
the States. Millicent had been tear
fully eager to get away, Mallory
advised expert surgical treatment
lor Jimmy Chester.
Janice was hooding her typewrit
er as he entered the office. Her
cheek still bore faintly pink evi
dence of Blot’s mercurial tempera
ment, but her eyes and smile were
radiant.
“Now that the cyclone of excite
ment has passed over, I hope to
accomplish something.”
Harcourt picked up a letter from
his desk. “This is Alaska. You
mustn’t expect life here to be like
life in New York. It’s a different
story in this wilderness.”
“Paxton’s yacht goes out this aft
ernoon with Mrs. Hale, Chester and
the Commissioner aboard. I want
you to go with them.”
Amazed consternation wiped the
happy radiance from her face. “I!
On Ned Paxton’s boat! You advise
that?”
“Two days ago I would not have
permitted it, but he has proved him
self trustworthy. This letter is from
your brother Billy. I wrote him aft
er I disordered the identity of Jim
my Delevan. I’ve told you before
that I will not let you spend a win
ter here. As soon as I can get
leave I will join you and we’ll—well,
we will talk things over. I will ca
ble Billy to meet the yacht at Se
attle.”
"Just like that!” Her eyes were
brilliant with anger, he could see
her throat contract. “You needn’t
trouble to cable Billy. I’m not go
ing. Tubby Grant hired me to work
for the outfit. I shall keep my posi
tion here. You talk about my going
back as though it were as simple as
setting out for dinner and dance.
How am I to earn my living when
1 get to the States? It isn’t so easy
to pick up a job. Perhaps you think
I’ll live on my brother. Absolutely
not!”
Indignation swept him like a red
hot wave. “My wife does not need
a job. You’ll have half my salary,
more if you need it.”
“Your wife! I’m not your wife.
I’m merely a companion on trial.
Money doesn’t figure in that agree
ment. Do you think I would ac
cept it from you? You can’t give
me even understanding. When you
made good my silly lie to Ned Pax
ton, I saw myself as I was, always
at the mercy of my imagination. I
determined that I would do my ut
most to make you happy. I didn’t
know then that ‘if you’d only wait
ed’ you would have married Milli
cent Hale.”
“Jan!”
‘That whitens your face, doesn’t
it? You can have her now. Better
go along in the yacht yourself and
s tart annulment proceedings. Once
you told me that when you mushed
back behind the dog-team and saw
me H house through the falling
snow, it seemed like coming home,
although you knew that only a
hu sky and a house-boy waited for
you behind those lighted windows. I
had thought that next winter you
nj‘ght be glad to find me there too.
My mistake.”
The picture she conjured of her
°’-ely self waiting for him to come
* n through the snow-filled darkness
, Harcourt’s blood afire. With all
j. IS strength he resisted her charm.
Ur] Pt v °l ce under rigid con-
That means that you will go—
mis afternoon?”
er breath was a straggling sob.
L‘ e cau ght her lips between her
m From the threshold she de
fied him. “Iceberg! I’U go, but
only from the H house. Now that
the one person to be impressed by
convention is leaving—l will return
to Argus of the Hundred Eyes and
Miss Mary. They’ll be glad to have
me back with them.” Grant pushed
open the door. “Thank heaven,
you ve come, Tubby. You almost
03* Y° ur secretary. Your superior
officer was giving her notice. Don’t
ruffle up like a turkey-cock. She
wouldn’t accept it.” The door closed
behind her before Grant emerged
from a stupor of surprise.
“New orders for us came by plane
this morning. No bridge-building
this winter. Retrenchment all along
the line. We are to push the tracks
from here south while the weather
holds—the Crowned Heads are all
excited about pulp-wood possibili
ties—then keep the repair shops at
headquarters humming till spring.”
“Headquarters for us all. Janice
will be crazy about the winter here.
We’ll teach her to pilot, to handle
a dog-team.”
Harcourt crossed to his desk. “I
want her to go out on Paxton’s boat
with the others this afternoon.”
“Says you!” The words bubbled
with indignation. “Granted you’re
a wow of an engineer, as a married
man you’re a total loss. Isn’t he,
Miss Martha?” he demanded, as the
elder Miss Samp entered the office.
“Isn’t he what? I heard you shout
in’, Mr. Tubby, as I came from
M’s. Hale’s cabin—she’s pretty
near packed up—an’ dropped in to
see if you were tryin’ to talk with
Fairbanks without a wire.”
Grant’s grievance was too acute
to permit of appreciation of her hu
mor. “You’ll shout when you hear
that the chief wants Janice to join
the party on Paxton’s yacht.”
“Sakes alive, has the excitement
turned his brain?” Miss Samp
dropped into a chair. "Course 'tisn’t
any of my business any more than
’tis Mr. Tubby’s, but why are you
sending that child away, Mr.
Bruce?”
“You have been so kind to Janice
that it is your business, Miss Mar
tha. I don’t want her to experience
the hardships of a winter here. Re
member what this life did to Milli
cent Hale.”
Martha Samp’s gnarled fingers
stroked the glossy coat of the black
cat circling in her lap. She regard
ed Harcourt with shrewd eyes.
“Did to her! It made a woman of
her, didn’t it? Think back. She came
here just an ordinary, spoiled,
flighty young married girl. At first
she fretted. Then she kinder found
herself. Never complained. She de
veloped the heart, the endurance
of a noble woman.”
“And how did it end?”
“You mean about her kinder fly
in’ off the handle at the last? I’ve
got a pretty good idea of what
caused it. She got to leanin’ on
you, Mr. Bruce, you were all her
husband wasn’t. When Janice came
along, so pretty an’ gay an’ attrac
tive, she got to broodin’ on her
troubles an’ thinkin’ life played fa
vorites, an’ something snapped. She
hadn’t any notion of hurtin’ Joe.
Course she shouldn’t have threat
ened him, but who doesn’t do a
fool thing or two in the course of
a life? Doesn’t it restore your faith
in human nature to find an officer
of the law with the common sense to
recognize an accident when he sees
one, an’ not try to make a criminal
out of a female who hasn’t enough
sense to leave a revolver hangin’ in
its holster?”
Martha Samp’s argument seethed
like an undercurrent in Harcourt’s
mind during the afternoon as he
packed for Chester, sent messages,
helped the Commissioner with his
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, GEORGIA
reports. Not until she came to the
shore to embark in the launch
which was to take her to the yacht
did he speak to Millicent Hale. Her
hand clung to his, her violet eyes
were tear-filled.
“I wish I were the one to stay
with you, Bruce.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“You have forgotten the long, dark
winter. I’m willing to bet that with
the first sight of the lights of Van
couver, you’ll be thanking all the
gods that be that you’re back in
civilization.”
Side by side Harcourt and Grant
watched the launch as it shot like
a brown streak for the yacht. In
dians and Eskimos stood in groups
on the shingle behind them, sec
tion bosses and engineers, with un
consciously wistful faces, waited
for the Modern Mariner to hoist the
anchor.
Janice was leaning against the H
house, eyes on the pale blur which
was gliding into an opaline mist. Her
long lashes were wet, but she faced
him with gay bravado.
“Sorry not to have been moved
out before you came back, but Pas
ca was so busy helping the travelers
off that he had no time for me.”
He caught her by the shoulders.
“You’re not going back to the Samp
cabin. You will stay in my house.”
She defied him flippantly. “Big
Chief! Heap bossy! You tried to
push me out of headquarters, and
now you are dictating as to where
I shall live. I am working for Tub
by Grant, not for you.”
His hands tightened. “Jan, my
dear, don’t you know what it means
to love a person so much that you
would tear your heart out if you
thought it best for her?” He cleared
his voice of huskiness. “I know
that you are forcing yourself to stay,
triumphing over what you think is
a fear-complex, what I know to be
imagination. I know, also, that if
you stay here you are bound to be
miserably unhappy.”
Angry tears drenched the eyes
which made them think of bronze
pansies. “How do you know that
I would be unhappy? You and Tub
by and the Samp girls think Mrs.
Hale a marvel of sweetness and
light because she carried on. Why
shouldn’t she? It was her job. You
talk about love. A lot you know
about it. I can see you following a
person half across the world. Not a
chance!”
“Jan!” The incredulous whisper
brought her eyes to his. Even his
lips whitened. “Jan!” He caught
her up in his arms, kicked open the
door. His laugh was a caress. “This
time I’ll carry my bride across the
threshold as big, strong men do in
the movies and points south.” He
set her on her feet, gently raised
her chin till her head rested against
his shoulder, demanded softly:
“All right with you, Beautiful?”
Eyes valiant, lovely color tinting
her soft skin, she answered with an
unsteady attempt at raillery. “I
never did think much of that trial
companionship idea of yours. If you
care—”
“Care! If I care!” In a fury of
passion he kissed her eyes, the hol
low in her throat, her mouth. Kissed
her vehemently, thoroughly. Said
with a husky, reckless laugh:
“That’s how I care.”
Tubby Grant pushed open the
door. “First call for tea in the din
ing-car! You—” His voice dwindled
to a gurgle. He blinked something
suspiciously like tears from his wist
ful green eyes. With a softly
breathed, “Praise be to Allah!” he
gently closed the door from the ou*
side.
[THE END]
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