"Thank you, but Stannard's my banker," he replied. "All the same, in the morning I'll write to my trustees."
"Oh, well," said Deering. "If you want the money, I'm your man. But let's get a drink."
VIII
JIMMY GETS TO WORK
On the evening Jimmy returned from Vancouver he went to the dining-room as soon as the bell rang and waited by Stannard's table. The table occupied a corner by a window, and commanded the room and a noble view of rocks and distant snow. Other guests had wanted the corner, but Stannard had got it for his party. Although he was not rich, Stannard's habit was to get things like that.
The room was spacious and paneled with cedar and maple. Slender wooden pillars supported the decorated beams, the tables were furnished with good china and nickel. The windows were open and the keen smell of the pines floated in.
After a few moments Jimmy heard Deering's laugh and Stannard's party crossed the floor. Frank Dillon talked to Laura, whom Jimmy had not seen since he returned; Frank was rather a handsome, athletic young fellow. Laura wore a fashionable black dinner dress and her skin, by contrast, was very white. Her movements were languidly graceful, and Jimmy got a sense of high cultivation. He was young and to know he belonged to Laura's party flattered him. Yet he was half embarrassed, because he waited for other guests and did not know if Laura would like his friends. When she gave Jimmy her hand Stannard indicated two extra chairs.
"Hallo!" he said. "I must see the head waiter. This table's ours."
"Two friends of mine are coming," Jimmy replied and turned to Laura apologetically. "Perhaps I ought to have told you, but I wrote to Jardine from Vancouver and when I returned and got his letter you were not about."
"Was it not Miss Jardine you helped when her horse ran away?"
"I doubt if I did help much, but after the horse knocked me down I went to the homestead and Jardine was kind. Now I want to talk to him; he's a good rancher."
"Then, ranching really interests you?"
"Jimmy has bought a ranch and I'm going to stay with him," said Deering with a noisy laugh. "Perhaps to hunt and live the simple life will help me keep down my weight."
Laura gave Jimmy a keen glance and he thought she frowned. "You a rancher? It's ridiculous! But Deering likes to joke."
"It is not at all a joke," Deering rejoined. "Jimmy has bought a ranch, and Stannard and I disputed who should lend him the money. As a rule, one's friends don't dispute about that sort of privilege; but one trusts Jimmy. Perhaps his trusting you accounts for it."
"I suppose Miss Jardine comes with her father?" Laura remarked.
Jimmy agreed and looked at Stannard, who had picked up the bill of fare.
"We must wait for your friends," he said carelessly, but Jimmy thought him annoyed.
Then Jimmy turned and saw Margaret and Jardine. The rancher's clothes were obviously bought at a small settlement store, but his figure was good and his glance was keen and cool; somehow Jimmy imagined him ironically amused. Margaret's blue dress was not fashionable, but she carried herself like an Indian and was marked by something of the Indian's calm. In the sunset, her hair was red, her eyes were blue, and her skin was brown. When Jimmy advanced to meet her she gave him a frank smile. He presented her to Laura and noted Dillon's admiring glance.
Stannard called a waiter and when dinner was served began to talk. Laura supported him, but Jimmy rather thought her support too obvious. This was strange, because Laura was clever and knew where to stop. Now it looked as if she did not. The Jardines were his friends, but nothing indicated that for them to dine at a fashionable hotel was embarrassing. He imagined Margaret studied Laura, and sometimes Laura's glance rested on the other for a moment and was gone. When Deering had satisfied his appetite, however, he firmly took the lead and Jimmy let him do so. Sometimes Deering's humor was rude, but it was kind.
When they went to the terrace others joined them and soon a party surrounded Stannard's table. After a time the people moved their chairs about and Jimmy saw Jardine was with Deering and Dillon had joined Margaret. He fancied Laura had remarked this, but she lighted a cigarette and gave him a friendly smile.
"Your friends don't want you just now. When you started for Vancouver, I think you ought to have told me about your ranching experiment."
"I didn't know," said Jimmy in an apologetic voice. "I saw a map in a land-agent's window and something called. I hesitated for a few minutes and then went in."
"Then, you didn't go to Vancouver in order to buy a ranch?"
"Not at all – " said Jimmy and stopped, because he did not want to state why he did go. "Of course, it looks like a rash plunge," he resumed. "Still I doubt if it really is rash and I imagined you would approve."
Laura smiled. "I don't know much about ranching."
"Not long ago you declared I ought to have an occupation."
"Then, you felt you must get to work because I thought you ought?" said Laura and gave Jimmy a gentle glance.
Jimmy's heart beat, but he knitted his brows. He was sincere and Laura was not altogether accountable for his resolve.
"Well," he said in a thoughtful voice, "I was getting slack and loafing along the easy way, until you pulled me up. I owe you much for that. You forced me to ponder and I began to see loafing was dangerous. One must have an object and I looked about – "
He stopped, with some embarrassment, and Laura saw he was moved. Jimmy did owe her something, for she had meddled at a moment when he was vaguely dissatisfied and looking for a lead. At the beginning, she was not selfish; she wanted him to stop and ponder, but he had started off again and was not going where she wanted him to go.
"You imply you have found an object?" she remarked. "After all, one's object ought to be worth while, and to chop trees on a ranch will not carry you far. Perhaps your proper occupation is at the cotton mill."
"I think not; anyhow, not yet. Until I'm twenty-five, Dick Leyland has control. Dick is a good mill manager, but his school is the old school. He holds down our work-people and they grumble; the machinery's crowded and some is not safe; the operatives have not the space and light that makes work easier. Then the office is dark and cold. One can't persuade Dick that harshness and parsimony no longer pay. Well, when I go back I must have power to put things straight. The house is famous, my father built its fortune, and after all I'm its head."
Laura mused. She was poor, and hating poverty, had begun to weigh Jimmy's advantages. To marry the head of the famous house was a sound ambition, and she thought if she used her charm, Jimmy would marry her. He was young and in some respects argued like a boy; Laura was young, but she argued like a calculating woman. Yet she hesitated.
"But you have some power," she said and smiled. "Besides, you're obstinate."
"It's possible. All the same, I haven't tried my power and don't trust myself. Dick and I would jar, and when I couldn't move him I expect I'd get savage and turn down the job. When I have done some useful work, for example, cleared a ranch, got confidence and know my strength, I'll go back and try to take my proper part."
"Does one get the qualities you feel you want at a bush ranch?"
"Jardine has got a number. At Kelshope all is properly planned and stubbornly carried out. His labor's rewarded, and the important thing is, he is satisfied. I'm not, and I admit I haven't much ground to be satisfied."
"Oh, well," said Laura. "In a few days we start on our excursion to Puget Sound. I think you agreed to join us."
Jimmy knitted his brows. He wanted to join the party, but saw some obstacles.
"We talked about it. If I agreed, of course, I'll go."
"Because you agreed?"
"Not altogether. I'd like to go."
"Then