CHAPTER XXV--PAYING A DEBT
Aynsley, sitting near an open window in his office, laid down his penand looked out with a sense of satisfaction. A great raft of lumber wasready to start down the river, and men were scrambling about it loosingthe mooring-chains. The pond was full of logs lately run down on afreshet, and the green flood swirled noisily past them. Its colorindicated that the snow was melting fast on the lofty inland ranges, andsweet resinous scents rose from the stacks of cedar where the sunshinestruck hot upon them. A cloud of smoke streamed across the long shedsand streaked the pines behind the mill with a dingy smear; and thescream of saws and the crash of flung-out boards filled the clearing.All this suggested profitable activity; and Aynsley's satisfactiondeepened as he glanced at some letters which a clerk handed him. Theycontained orders, and he foresaw that he would soon have to increase thecapacity of the mill. He was thinking over a scheme for doing so whenhis father was shown in. Clay smiled at his surprise, and sat down inthe nearest chair, breathing heavily.
"Why don't you locate on the ground-floor instead of making people walkup those blamed awkward steps?" he asked.
"I can see better from here what's going on," Aynsley explained. "I findit saves me a little money now and then."
Clay beamed upon him.
"There was a time when I didn't expect to hear you talk like that.However, you have a pretty good mill-boss and secretary, haven't you? Doyou think you could leave them to look after matters for a littlewhile?"
"I suppose I could," Aynsley answered dubiously. "They know more aboutthe business than I do; but, for all that, I'd rather be on the spot.Things seem to go wrong unless you look closely after them."
"They do; you're learning fast, my son. It looks as if the mill isgetting hold of you."
Aynsley took a plan of some buildings from a drawer.
"What do you think of this?" he asked. "We could keep the new saws busy,but the job would cost about twenty thousand dollars. Could you let mehave the money, or shall I go to the bank?"
Clay inspected the plan carefully.
"It's a good scheme," he declared. "If trade keeps steady, you'll soonget the cost back. I could lend you the money easily but perhaps you'dbetter try the bank. You've got to stand by yourself sooner or later;and it seems to me that you're getting pretty steady on your feet. Guessyou're not sorry now I made you work?"
Aynsley pondered the question. In some respects the business was not tohis taste, but in spite of this it was rapidly engrossing his attention.There was a fascination in directing, planning for the future, andbringing about results.
"No," he said. "In fact, I'm getting a good deal more satisfaction outof it than I expected."
"That should help you in another matter. You won't take your not gettingOsborne's girl quite so hard."
For a few moments Aynsley sat still with knitted brows. It was his habitto be honest with himself, and he saw that to some extent his father wasright. He thought of Ruth with deep tenderness and regret, and hebelieved that he would always do so, but the poignant sense of losswhich he had at first experienced had gone. He did not think that he wasfickle or disloyal to her, but his new interests had somehow dulled thekeenness of his pain.
"I suppose that's true," he answered quietly.
"Your real trouble will begin when you see her getting fond of anotherman. What are you going to do about it then?"
Aynsley winced.
"It's rather hard to speak about, but, if the fellow's fit for her, I'lltry to bear it and wish them well."
"You'll make good," Clay commented with dry approval. "But I've beengetting off the track. You have been sticking to your work prettyclosely, and, as things are going, you can leave it without much risk. Iwant you to take me North for a few weeks in the yacht. The doctorrecommends the trip."
It struck Aynsley that his father was not looking well. He had lost hishigh color, his face had grown pouchy under the eyes, and he had astrained, nervous look. Aynsley had some business on hand which demandedhis personal attention, but he recognized his duty to his father. Then,the North had its fascination, and the thought of another grapple withgray seas, smothering fog, and biting gales appealed to him.
"Very well," he said. "When do you want to go?"
"As soon as we can get away. Next week, if possible. You had better tellthe captain to get his crew and coal on board."
Aynsley called his secretary, and when Clay left he had arranged to meethim at Victoria in a fortnight.
The time was, however, extended; for on getting the yacht ready for seasome repairs to rigging and engines were found needful, and these tooklonger than the skipper expected. At last Clay received word that theywould be finished in a few days, and he paid a visit to Osborne.Reaching the house in the evening, he sat talking with his host in thelibrary after dinner. A shaded lamp stood on a table laid out with wineand cigars, but this was the only light and beyond its circle ofillumination the large room was shadowy. The floor was of polished wood,but a fine rug stretched from near the table to the door, where heavyportieres hung. The men spoke in quiet, confidential voices as theysmoked.
"The Farquhar gang have separated, and I've lost track of them, but ifthey can scrape up three or four hundred dollars between them I'll besurprised," Clay said. "They're going to have some trouble in fittingout their boat; and she's a very small thing, anyway. Though the delayhas worried me, we should get up there long before they do, and we onlyneed a few days of fine weather to finish the job."
"There's some risk in your taking the diver and Aynsley," Osbornecautioned. "You may have some difficulty in keeping both in the dark."
"It oughtn't to be hard. I take the owner's berth with the smallsitting-room attached, and everything we bring up will go straight inthere--and I'll keep the key. The diver's business ends when he puts thestuff on deck, and after it's stowed nobody will touch it but myself."
"Aynsley may want to see it, and ask questions."
"Then he won't be gratified. I have him pretty well drilled, and heknows when to stop. Besides, I'll find him useful. When anything needstalking over, I'll have him to consult with instead of a paid man. Theskipper's more of a sailing-master. Aynsley takes command."
"Still, you can't keep everything from him," Osborne persisted. "Itseems to me there are too many people who must, to some extent, be takeninto your confidence. That's where Farquhar has the advantage. He hasonly two partners, whom he can rely upon."
"Shucks! You get to imagining trouble! Some of the gold is there allright, and, if it's needful, I can make a show with that. For all that,I'd like a companion who knew as much as I did, and I feel a bit sorebecause I have to go without. It's your place to see me through, butyou've got so blamed fastidious lately."
"I'm not going," Osborne answered softly, for Clay had raised his voice."I've had enough to do with the wreck."
Clay indicated the handsome room and its rich fittings with a wave ofhis hand.
"You have had your share of the plunder, and you hadn't a shack to callyour own when I first got hold of you. Now, when I'm up against anawkward job, you go back on me. However, if I wanted you--"
He broke off, looking up sharply as a draught of colder air entered theroom; and Osborne, turning with a start, saw Ruth standing on the rug.Her face was in shadow, for she was outside the direct illumination ofthe shaded lamp, but so far as he could discern, her attitude was easyand natural.
"Walter has just come back with the car and brought this telegram," shesaid. "I thought it might be important."
Osborne was partly reassured by her voice. She spoke in her normal tone,but he wished he could see her better.
"Thank you," he said, opening the envelope. "We'll have finished ourtalk before very long."
Ruth went out in silence, and Clay looked hard at Osborne.
"Could she have heard?"
"I don't think so. I hope not."
"I'd soon have found out if it had been a man," Clay said grimly."Anyhow, all she cou
ld have picked up wouldn't give her much of a clew."
He was wrong. Ruth's suspicions had already been aroused, and now Clayhad justified them out of his own mouth. She knew that he was goingnorth where Jimmy, who had spoken of some plan for improving hisfortune, had been engaged at the wreck. Clay had mentioned a share ofthe plunder, so something was far from straight. Worse still, he seemedto have been urging her father to go with him.
It had cost her an effort to maintain her composure when she gave himthe telegram, and her face was pale when she went downstairs and sat ina corner of the empty hall. Ruth had had a shock. Until lately she hadgiven her indulgent father her wholehearted affection and respect. Hislife had long been hard, but she believed he had at last achievedsuccess by courage and integrity. Then she began to distrust hisassociation with Clay, and by degrees perplexing doubts had grown up.She was imaginative, and when she began to form a theory, odd facts thathad accidentally come to her knowledge had fitted in. Vessels, she knew,were sometimes lost by their owners' consent and frauds perpetrated onthe underwriters. It was horrible to think that, but what Clay had saidindicated something of the kind.
Then, as she recovered from the shock, she felt pitiful, and tried tomake excuses for her father. He must have been hard pressed when heyielded to temptation, and his partner had, no doubt, placed it in hisway. She was filled with a desire to protect him. He must be saved fromthe evil influence that had led him into wrong. She remembered that Clayhad declared he owed her a debt of gratitude. She would remind him ofit. He must release her father from whatever hold he had on him; she hada curious confidence that he would do so if she begged it.
She waited, nerving herself for the effort, until he came downstairs andthen she beckoned him into the empty drawing-room.
"I suppose my father's busy?"
"Yes; he has a letter to write."
Clay leaned carelessly on a chair-back, watching her as she stoodquietly confronting him. The intentness of her expression and herstillness were significant. She suspected something, and he was sorryfor her; if he could remove her suspicions, he would do so.
"Then he won't be down for some minutes," she said. "I have something tosay--you have been trying to make him go North with you?"
"No; not exactly. I'm not sure I could make him; he's pretty determined.Don't you want him to go?"
"No!" she cried. "You mustn't take him! And in future you must leave himalone. I can't let you force him to do things he hates!"
Clay smiled at her vehemence.
"It looks as if you suspected me of leading him astray. Now, in a sense,that's hardly fair to either of us. Don't you think your father has awill of his own?"
"I know you have some power over him, and I beg you not to use it."
Clay pulled out a chair.
"I think you had better sit down while we talk this thing over. To beginwith, your father and I are old friends; we have faced hard timestogether and shared very rough luck. It seems to me that gives us someclaim on each other."
"That is not what I mean," Ruth said firmly.
Clay was determined to spare her as far as he could.
"Then, if you suspect some other influence, I'd better warn you thatyou're too young and inexperienced to form a reliable opinion. You hearsomething that startles you, and, without understanding it, you make ablind guess. Take it from me that your father is known as one of thestraightest business men in this State." He paused and laughed. "Infact, he's getting too particular for me. I'm 'most afraid I'll have todrop him."
"That is what I want you to do; I mean as a business partner."
"Then you wouldn't quite bar me out as a private acquaintance?"
"No," Ruth answered slowly. "Somehow, I feel that you might prove a goodfriend."
"Thanks. Now I want you to listen. I'm not going to defend my commercialcharacter. I've taken up a good many risky deals and put them through,fighting the men who meant to down me as best I could; but all mybusiness hasn't been a raid on somebody else's property. In fact, youcan't play the bold pirate too often. Very well; now and then, when Iwas doing an innocent trade, I wanted a respectable associate as a kindof guarantee, and asked your father to stand in. He's known as astraight man, and my having him helped to disarm suspicion; I'll admitthat I found him useful in that respect. I hope I've said enough tosatisfy you?"
Though his manner was humorous, Ruth felt somewhat comforted. Hisexplanation sounded plausible, and she was glad to make the most of it;but it did not banish all her doubts.
"I don't want him to have anything to do with your northern trip," shepersisted.
"Why?"
Ruth hesitated, and Clay felt moved to sympathy. There was distress andperplexity in her face, but what touched him most was something in hermanner that suggested confidence in his ability to help her.
"I'm afraid; I feel that no good can come of it," she said with anappealing look. "You mustn't let him have any part in it."
"Very well." Clay leaned forward, speaking in an earnest tone. "Set yourmind at rest. You have my word that your father shall have no share inwhat I hope to do at the wreck. What's more, he doesn't know all myplans about her. There's nothing in them that can injure him; on thecontrary, if I can carry them out, it will be to his benefit, in a waythat he doesn't expect and that you could find no fault with."
Ruth felt that he was speaking the truth; giving her a pledge of greaterimportance than she could gage. His manner had impressed her, and shewas conscious of keen relief.
"Thank you," she said, getting up. "You must forgive my frankness--itseemed needful."
"It's a compliment, because it shows that, after all, you have somefaith in me." He added, with a smile, "You won't regret it."
Ruth left him with a lighter heart. She did not know whether she hadbeen too hard on Clay or not, but she felt that she could trust him.
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