CHAPTER XXVIII
Doss Umpey’s Excuses

GOAT’S GULCH was a narrow valley, or deep slit in the hills, much higher up than Camp’s Gulch or the Settlement, and so inaccessible that Nell was continually wondering as she toiled up the rocky slopes, how the cart in which the boy and the two men made their home, had been brought to such a place.

Trees there were in plenty, some growing out from the crevices in big rock-boulders, others struggling for root-hold on jutting shelves, where the soil was thin and poor.

Of level ground there was absolutely none. It was all uphill, or it was down, or strewn with boulders so big that they looked like mountains in miniature.

Even the inexperienced eyes of Nell could see how rich in ores of iron and copper some of this rugged ground was, but she did not know that in places veins of silver ran in and out among the other ores.

It would have been a fearsome place to get lost in, for there was no road or trail of any kind, and one gloomy valley only led to another of the same description.

“Is it much farther?” asked Nell, who was so tired that she felt ready to drop, while the buzzing at her ear had recommenced in a most uncomfortable fashion, as it invariably did whenever she was overdone.

“Just round the corner of the next block,” said the boy, with a chuckle, as he pointed to a towering mass of rock as big as a Winnipeg sky-scraper, which had a ragged fringe of trees growing at the top and extending down one side.

Now at last a faint trail showed, which deepened into a well-worn path, when at last the corner was turned.

Then Nell saw, standing in a sunny angle of the rock, an old tilted cart, thatched over the top and down the most exposed side with rushes, and so she knew the end of the journey was reached at last.

“Go and see if he is awake; tell him some one has come to see him,” she said brusquely, as she sat down to wait on a log of wood which stood near the cooking place, while a queer feeling of faintness attacked her.

The boy nodded, then quickly disappeared into the cart, while Nell sat with her eyes shut, trying to master her uncomfortable sensations.

In a couple of minutes the boy emerged, calling out, “Come along, miss, he’s wide awake, and spoiling for a pie!” This last he said with a chuckle of mischief, because he believed that Nell had walked all the way from Camp’s Gulch just to see if the sick man were in a fit condition to eat pies.

She rose to her feet with an effort, and carrying the little basket of soup, eggs, and custard which she had brought with her, climbed up as the boy had done, and entered the cart.

Considering the small space at their disposal, the owners of that peculiar abode had done their very best with it. One side had two shelves or bunks, while on the other was a seat that served as sitting-room.

On the lower shelf lay a wasted figure wrapped in an old coat and a tattered red blanket. At the first sight of the bleached, yellow face Nell gave a start of dismay.

“Poor granfer, do you feel very bad?” she murmured, stooping forward so that her face could be plainly seen by the wasted figure on the shelf.

“Nell, is it you?” he asked, in feeble surprise, staring at her as if he could not believe the evidence of his sunken eyes.

“Yes, it is Nell,” she said, with a nervous laugh that ended in something like a sob.

Perhaps he was thinking of their last meeting and his fierce brutality, for the surprise still lingered on his face as he asked⁠—

“What made you come?”

“The boy⁠—⁠Joe, he said his name was⁠—⁠told me that their lodger was sick; he came to buy a pie, you know, and when he said the lodger’s name was Doss, I thought it must be you, only——” but she broke off abruptly.

“Only what?” he demanded suspiciously, for, judged from the standpoint of how he himself would have behaved under the circumstances, Nell’s coming was wholly inexplicable.

“Only I thought that you were dead, wiped out by the Skeena crowd, or the Tacla Indians,” she said, unconsciously quoting from Ike.

“You heard of that, did you? Well, I wished then, as I’ve wished a good many times since, that they had finished me off, for I should have been spared a good many hours of suffering; but I suppose it wasn’t to be,” he said, with a groan. Nell watched him with a great pity in her heart.

“I made you a small custard; can you eat a little?” she asked, coaxingly, producing a basin and a teaspoon from the basket, which had weighed so heavy during the long hot walk over the hills.

“Food sort of turns me sick,” he said, in feeble protest. But by gentle persuasion she induced him to swallow a few spoonfuls.

“Have you had a doctor?” she asked, with a quick thought to Dr. Russell.

“No; I guess all the doctors in the world could not put me on my feet again,” he answered, listlessly.

“But medicine might ease you a little,” she said, looking at the hard wooden shelf on which he was lying, and thinking how he must suffer from hardship and privation.

“It don’t matter so much now the weather is warm, and I sleep a good bit,” he replied, in a dull tone.

“If you have been ill long, how have you managed to live?” she asked, wondering if it were starvation which had helped to bring him to such a pass.

“It’s real curious, but it’s true, I’ve just been kept alive the last few months by a fluke, as you may say, a mistake that you made a goodish bit ago,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” she asked, in great surprise. She would have believed his mind to be wandering but for the sanity in his eyes.

“Do you remember sending a letter with thirty dollars and a picture in it to young Dick Brunsen, back in last summer?” he asked.

A hot colour surged over Nell’s face, and a dizzy sensation seized her, but gripping the hard wood of the seat until it hurt her hand, she kept herself steady enough to answer calmly⁠—

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, it’s that thirty dollars what kept me from starving, but there ain’t much of it left now,” he answered.

“But I don’t understand. You said I had made a mistake; what did you mean?” she demanded.

“You thought young Dick Brunsen was the man what I took to Button End that time when I didn’t come back?” he asked.

But she replied with another question, “Was he not?”

“Bless you, no; and the two were no more alike than chalk is like cheese. Young Dick was always seeing if he couldn’t do somebody out of something, and live by scheming instead of work. But the other one, the man that I took to Button End on Blossom, he was as straight-laced as a parson, and he read me a reg’lar moral lecture, all the way to Joe Lipton’s, on how I wasn’t treating you fair by keeping you on Blue Bird Ridge, with no advantages except fresh air. But he paid me well, so I ain’t going to complain about him, nor yet to say that I didn’t deserve the lecture,” Doss Umpey remarked, with another groan, as he gave himself a twist round on the wooden shelf, in the vain hope of finding a more comfortable spot for his aching bones.

“Did the other one, this man Dick Brunsen, I mean, give you the money that I sent to him?” asked Nell. And now there was such a flood of gladness in her heart, that her weariness was momentarily forgotten, and her eyes were shining like two stars.

The man whom she had succoured at the Lone House had been, according to Doss Umpey, straight-laced as a parson, and so her instincts had been right; she had felt that he was a good man as well as a kind one, and it had been absolute torture to her when circumstances seemed to point to his being a rogue.

“Dick wouldn’t have given away that money nor yet spent it to save himself from starvation, I believe,” said Doss Umpey, with a chuckle. “He was a desperately superstitious fellow, and he’d got an idea that money sent to him like that by a mistake would bring him luck, so he always used to carry the case with him in a belt round his waist. His father and I used to laugh at him about it, but it didn’t make no difference. They didn’t know who had sent the money; but I did directly, only I wasn’t going to let on to them that I knew anything about it. But I’d seen you on the depot at Bratley, that day when we went through to Roseneath, so it didn’t take long to figure things out that you had sent the money, because you’d somehow got mixed up into thinking that young Dick was the party that had to be taken in and done for.”

“So they never knew who sent it?” asked Nell, drawing a long breath of relief.

“Not they! But we was dreadful hard up after that business of trying to clear out the big shed at the depot, and we had to lie low too, for between the police and the Syndicate it was rather warm for us. Then old Brunsen won a lot of money at poker, and we cleared out while we’d got the chance. We meant to go to Klondike, but we hadn’t got enough money, and it was the wrong time of the year; so we pulled up at Skeena, and looked about to see how we could make things last out until the spring. Then one day, as luck would have it, young Dick was prospecting round a bit, and he came upon a poor fellow who was dying from some wounds he’d had from getting mixed up with Indians. This chap had some nuggets in his pocket what he’d picked up in the Babine country, and he asked Dick to send them to his sweetheart in Quebec.”

“Have a little more custard, then lie quiet awhile; so much talking cannot be good for you,” said Nell, anxiously, for the old man’s appearance rather frightened her.

“Oh, I’m glad to talk, if it’s only to myself; it sort of whiles away the time,” said the old man; but he consented to swallow the custard, which was so much better than anything he had tasted through the weary months of his sickness. Then he went on with his story as if eager to get it told, “The poor chap pegged out when he had finished telling Dick about the gold in the Babine country, and Dick he came back to us in high feather, saying that our fortunes were made at last. And so for a time it seemed as if they were going to be; but there’s mostly something awkward turns up just as you think you’ve got to plain sailing, and somehow the crowd we had got to help us got hold of the wrong end of the story of the man with the nuggets. Then came trouble, for they were as ugly a lot as I had ever had to do with. They set upon us like a pack of wolves, and we should have been wiped out in about five minutes if it hadn’t been for Dick. He fought like ten men, and we might have pulled through even then, only one coward of a fellow shot him from behind, and so he died.” The old man’s voice broke in an irrepressible sob; but Nell’s face was white and stern.

She was thinking to herself that the way of transgressors is hard, for if Dick Brunsen had only told the truth about how he had come to know of the find of gold in the Babine country, his life need not have been forfeit, and so her pity for him dwindled and died, there seemed no limit to his meanness, so really he deserved the fate which had come to him.

“How did you escape?” she asked.

“The crowd made tracks in no time at all, when they saw that Dick was dead, for no one could say how near the mounted police might be, and law is law in Canada, I can tell you. Old Brunsen had got hurt in the head, sort of knocked silly, so he was no good. We couldn’t take the body back to the town, for we were three days out, and the crowd had made off with all the horses and mules that we had had loaded with provisions, tents, and diggers’ outfits. So, while old Brunsen lay on the ground moaning, I dug a grave for poor Dick; only, before I dragged him into it, I took off his belt with the thirty dollars in it that you sent, and I’ve had to make it last ever since, for I’ve sort of been too sick to earn anything.”

“What became of old Brunsen?” Nell asked.

“He was sort of struck silly, I think, with that blow on the head, for he didn’t come to his senses, and next morning, when I woke, meaning to start back for the town, he was missing. I spent all that day and part of the next looking for him, and at last I came on his trail, only to find that he must have pitched over a bluff in the dark, for he was lying stone dead at the bottom with a broken neck. I buried him where I found him, just as I had buried Dick, then I sat down and felt pretty sick.”

“Poor granfer!” exclaimed Nell, and then she stroked his withered face with gentle fingers, trying to forget all his unkindness and brutality, remembering only that he was poor, sick, and aged, an object of compassion to anyone whose heart held a spark of tenderness. Then, after a little pause, she asked, “What did you do after that?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I must have got to Port Simpson somehow, for I seem to remember having been there, and I know I got to Vancouver City by boat, for I was dreadful sick and ill. But it seems as if there have been holes knocked in my memory in places; I can remember parts, but not the whole. It was at New Westminster that I fell in with Fred Higgins and the boy Joe, and I’ve lived along with them ever since. I lent him some money when he was hard up, and he’s been sort of kind to me ever since,” Doss Umpey said feebly. Then he dropped to sleep without any warning, and Nell sat silently watching him, noting the grey shadow which had gathered in the hollows of his eyes, and wondering how best she could bring help and comfort to soothe his dying hours.

He awoke as suddenly as he had gone to sleep, seeming so bright and alert from the brief rest, that Nell began to think she must be mistaken, and that he could not be so low down as she had imagined.

“Had a nap, have I? It’s real curious how I go to sleep all of a sudden; but it’s comforting too, and passes the time wonderful.”

“Granfer, do you think you could be moved? I’ve got a house now, at least, I live with the Lorimers, and we could nurse you until you are better,” said Nell, seeing that to care for the sick man was her duty, and deciding that the plan of having summer boarders must be held over, at least, for a time.

“No; I don’t want to be moved. I’m as comfortable here as I should be anywhere, and I don’t want no bother,” he said weakly.

“But it is such a long way for me to come every day, and if I had you at home I could look after you so much better,” she said coaxingly.

“I should only die on the way. I know what that road is, and the shaking is more than I could stand. Besides, I don’t want the police coming poking round, asking questions by the dozen, and they’d be sure to do that, if I came down to the Settlement.”

“I don’t live at the Settlement, but at the depot,” said Nell, quickly.

“It’s all the same, and I ain’t coming down there not to please nobody,” he said, setting his weak jaw into obstinate lines.

“Granfer, what sort of hold was it that Mr. Brunsen had over you, that you didn’t come back to the Lone House that time, but left me to get on as best I could with that horrid Mrs. Gunnage?” asked Nell.

The old man winced visibly, stirring uneasily on his hard shelf.

“That’s an old story now, and too long for the telling, seeing that I’m tired,” he answered.

But Nell meant to know if possible. “Was it anything about that old business between you and Logan and Mr. Brunsen?” she asked.

He gave a little start of surprise, and wriggled again.

“How did you know about that?” he demanded.

“Some one told me, and then I found a letter in your pocket from Mr. Brunsen, ordering you to pay him some money or he would expose you,” she said, not choosing to tell him that she had found some of Brunsen’s writing in her mother’s box also.

Doss Umpey wriggled, and his voice took on a protesting whine.

“The fact is, Brunsen thought I knew where Logan’s hoard was, but I didn’t, though I guessed it should be on Blue Bird Ridge somewhere, because his old mother lived there so long. I used to pay Brunsen money to keep quiet, because he’d got black-and-white evidence against me over a bit of business what happened a good few years before you were born. I’d got no money to pay, and I was obliged to raise a few dollars on the bits of things in your mother’s box. After that I couldn’t pay interest on the mortgage Joe Gunnage held on the Lone House, so he foreclosed, and I went to Brunsen to explain matters a bit, only to find that he’d just been made a fraudulent bankrupt, and had got to clear in a hurry. So we went together.”

“Leaving me to manage as best I could,” said Nell, bitterly.

“Well, you did a sight better for yourself than I could have done for you, so there’s no need to cast that up at me,” he said, with another wriggle. “I promised to send you some money if I had any to send, or if I knew where you were. But luck has been against me all the time. Think of the years I lived at the Lone House, a pokin’ and pryin’ round to find the things Logan had most likely buried there, yet never came across anything. But directly Joe Gunnage gets there, and begins to dig for a root-cellar, he turns up a whole lot of things, and instead of keeping quiet about them, he must needs go flying with the whole story to the police, stirring up no end of mud. I’ve had to keep pretty quiet ever since, I can tell you, though there wasn’t a shred of evidence against me, and I was as innercent as a babe about them things, for if I had known where they were I should have dug them up and sold them a long time ago.”

Nell shivered, and, leaning closer, said gently, “Don’t talk like that, granfer. You are old and feeble now, and perhaps there is not much more life left for you.”

“A good thing too,” he burst in. “I’ve had about enough of it, one way and another, and I’m that tired, it is as much as I can do to lie here without lifting a finger.”

“Poor granfer!” she murmured, and a mist of tears came into her eyes as she realized how little she could do for him.

“Can you give me a little money, Nell?” he asked presently, with the whine coming into his voice again.

She shook her head. “I will see that you don’t want for food, and I’ll send a doctor to you; but I haven’t much money to spare, granfer.”

“Well, you’ll come again and see me, won’t you? Real interesting it has been, having you drop in for a chat to-day. Fred said he’d send Joe down to a food-shop as there was at Camp’s Gulch, just to get me a bit of something tasty, but I hadn’t no idea as you were there still, and would come to see me.”

“I must go now. I’ve been here such a long while, and I have got to walk back, but I will come again to-morrow or the day after, if I can,” she said, wondering how she would manage to find her way home unaided.

“I gave you good advice, Nell, when I told you to get over the border,” he said, with a feeble laugh, when she bade him good-bye. “I’ve always tried to do my duty by you, and I should have sent you some money if I hadn’t wanted it myself.”

CHAPTER XXIX
The Arrival

NELL’S departure had been so hasty that there had been no time for explanations before she left. She had merely told Gertrude that she was going to Goat’s Gulch to see a sick man, and that Mrs. Peters would come and stay at the house while afternoon school was on.

But Gertrude knew of some of the sad passages of Nell’s past, and guessed that this hurried excursion might be accounted for in that way, so she concerned herself only in seeing what she could do to ease the domestic burdens before school commenced.

Leaving Flossie and the boys to get the dinner cleared away, she betook herself to the room Nell had been cleaning, and, setting herself to work, got it arranged in good order, the bed made up with fresh, sweet linen, clean curtains at the window, and everything in the nicest fashion, before she left for school.

Mrs. Peters came along just as she was putting the finishing touches to the few ornaments the room contained.

The station-master’s wife had a baby in her arms, and two more trotting by her side, but she looked happy and comfortable, so plainly she was not to be pitied, despite her family cares.

“Miss Hamblyn wanted me to catch hold whilst she was away and you were in school, so I just brought the children and came over,” announced Mrs. Peters, remembering with gratitude the many occasions on which Nell had come into her house and “caught hold” for her in times of domestic tribulation.

“It is very good of you to come,” said Gertrude, thankfully. “Ours is such an awkward house to shut up; some one would be sure to want something, and Flossie is too young to leave.”

“Poor little girl! yes, I should think she is. But what is there to do?” asked Mrs. Peters, looking round with an air of tremendous energy, as if she were simply yearning for work.

“Nothing, except to keep the kitchen fire going, and to see that the soup does not boil over. I have got the finishing touches put to Miss Alfreton’s room, though I don’t suppose she will be here for a few days yet, even if she decides to come at all. Nell cleaned the room early this morning, so I had only the nice part to do.”

Gertrude’s manner was a trifle apologetic, for it seemed to her that Nell was always doing the hard things and leaving the easy ones for her.

“Well, there’s no denying that you both work hard, and it is just wonderful how the children get on at school. Sam says he hadn’t no idea that our young ones were so clever. It’s just a treat to see how Ned and Sophy can write and cipher,” Mrs. Peters answered, as she subsided into a rocking-chair, with an air of restful ease, which showed that the next two hours were going to be pure holiday for her.

The afternoon cars reached the depot about half an hour before school was out. To-day there was quite a crowd of vehicles, and of people also. Four wagons, two carts, and three men on horseback came down from the Settlement to meet the train, while a little throng of people came streaming off the cars when they drew in and stopped.

Among these was a lady, past middle life, with a beautiful face and masses of fluffy grey hair. She was well but quietly dressed, carrying herself with a dignified air. Her large trunk and a small travelling-bag were good though unostentatious, like the rest of her belongings; and Sam Peters touched his cap to her in his very best manner, realizing that she was what he called “very first class.”

“Can you tell me where Miss Hamblyn lives?” asked the lady, in a cultured, pleasant voice, which matched her appearance perfectly.

“The first house as you take the Settlement road, ma’am. My wife is over there keeping house this afternoon, while Miss Hamblyn is out. Will you leave your bag with the trunk? It will be quite safe, and I will bring the lot over presently,” said Sam, politely, telling himself privately that this must be Miss Alfreton, who had come before she was expected. At the same time, however, he wondered why she had “M. B.” in big letters on her trunk.

“Thank you; yes, I will leave them,” she answered, with a nod and a smile. She then went onward at a leisurely walk through the pleasant July sunshine, taking keen note of her surroundings, and pausing more than once to admire the view.

Presently she stopped by the first house, and, after a moment’s hesitation, entered by the door at the side into the kitchen, which was also shop.

Hardly had she crossed the threshold when Mrs. Peters appeared from the inner room, supposing that an early customer had arrived.

But the first glance at the lady standing just inside the door assured her that this was no prospective speculator in soups, pies, or family cakes; and so she waited for the unknown to state her business.

“Your husband told me that you were keeping house for Miss Hamblyn; will it be long before she is back, do you expect?” the lady asked, her gentle, refined tones falling pleasantly on the ear.

“I don’t know about Miss Hamblyn, for she has gone to Goat’s Gulch, which is a goodish step from here. But Miss Lorimer will be in from school in about twenty minutes. Will you please to walk in and sit down; the other room is cooler than this one,” said Mrs. Peters, flinging the door wide open, and ushering the visitor in with an impressive air.

“What is this; a kitchen or a shop?” asked the lady, with an interested look around, as she passed through into the sitting-room.

“Both, ma’am; you see, being a cook-shop, there’s a lot of baking and boiling to be done somewhere, and as room is limited, it is better to do it on the spot,” said Mrs. Peters, with a brisk air.

“Decidedly. And how nice it smells! But what a lot of cakes and pies; who is going to eat them all?”

And the stranger paused before the big table, whereon were placed the results of the morning’s baking.

“The customers, to be sure, ma’am. There isn’t much doing until the evening when the miners leave work, but business is brisk then, and no mistake. I hope Miss Hamblyn will be back by that time, or poor Miss Lorimer will be nearly run off her feet.”

“I can help her; that is if she will let me,” said the lady, smiling again. Then she went down on her knees to make overtures to the fat Peters baby, who was crawling round the floor, and making occasional efforts to pull himself up by the chairs.

Mrs. Peters stared at the stranger in amazement. Her first thought had been that this must be Miss Alfreton, who had arrived sooner than was expected; but there was a wedding-ring on the lady’s white hands, for she had pulled off her gloves while playing with the baby.

Then curiosity got the better of the station-master’s wife, and she asked outright for the information she desired.

“Would you mind telling me, ma’am, who you are? Miss Hamblyn was expecting a Miss Alfreton in a few days, but you are not——” Here Mrs. Peters came to a full stop in some confusion, not knowing quite how to express herself.

“I am not Miss Alfreton, but her sister,” explained the lady, with a smile. “Miss Alfreton has gone east in a great hurry to meet some friends she has not seen for years, so I came instead. My son is taking holiday in the neighbourhood, and I thought it would be pleasant to be near him. Ah, is this Miss Lorimer?” she asked, under her breath, as Gertrude came in at the gate, followed by Flossie and the two small boys.

Little Abe was not nearly school age yet; but as he always wanted to go where Teddy went, Gertrude used to take him across to the school-house, where he was in no one’s way, and always seemed to enjoy himself.

“Yes, it is Miss Lorimer,” said Mrs. Peters, feeling that she had somehow bungled the matter of introduction, because she had been unable to make the ceremony more complete owing to her ignorance of the lady’s name.

Gertrude flushed a little at the sight of a stranger, and a nervous look came into her eyes as she remembered that Nell was not at home to help her in entertaining the unexpected visitor.

The lady moved towards her with an easy grace, holding out a friendly hand.

“I must apologize for taking you by storm in this fashion. My sister, Miss Alfreton, had a letter from Miss Hamblyn saying that you had room for a boarder; but my sister was obliged to change her plans quite suddenly, so I have come instead, and my name is Bronson⁠—⁠Mrs. Bronson.”

“We are very pleased to have you; and I hope you will be quite comfortable with us, although we live very simply, and are quite primitive people,” Gertrude said, regaining her courage all at once, because of the friendliness of the lady’s manner.

“Then I can stay? That is a great comfort!” exclaimed Mrs. Bronson, with an air of relief. Then she promptly turned her attention to Flossie and the other children, and made friends in such a charming fashion that they were speedily won from their shyness.

“Perhaps you would like a meal of some kind at once?” suggested Gertrude, in rather anxious query, and wondering what Mrs. Bronson would think of them and their way of living, for she was plainly used to moving in good society.

“No, thank you, I don’t want anything until it is time for you all to have your supper, or whatever you call your evening meal. If I get too desperately hungry before that time comes, I will go into the kitchen and sample the good things there, for it is evident I have come to a land of plenty,” Mrs. Bronson said gaily.

“There is no lack of food, certainly; only I fear that to you our mode of life will seem rather rough. But if Miss Hamblyn is back soon, it won’t be so bad, as she will attend to the customers, and I can look after the children. Shall I show you your room? it is quite ready,” Gertrude said rather anxiously, for Mrs. Peters and the babies had disappeared, and there were a number of things requiring her attention.

“No, Flossie will do that, and then if she has any duties, I will help her to do them, or if it is play, I can help at that too.”

“It isn’t play,” said the child, with a shy smile; “I get tea ready, when I come from school, then I clear it away, and wash up. Sometimes I help Nell in the kitchen, when there are a lot of customers, because Patsey has to chop wood, and do that sort of thing.”

“Ah, everyone works here, I can see, so it will not do for me to be idle. What a nice bedroom, and how exquisitely clean; why, it will be really a treat to sleep here!” exclaimed Mrs. Bronson, with an air of keen appreciation.

“Nell cleaned it all out this morning, very early, and Gertrude put it straight at dinner-time,” said Flossie, who was watching the new inmate with grave admiration in her eyes.

“Gertrude is Miss Lorimer, and your sister, I suppose?” said Mrs. Bronson. “Then who is Nell⁠—⁠Miss Hamblyn?”

“Yes, only she is our sister too, because she has adopted us,” said Flossie.

“What do you mean?” asked Mrs. Bronson, in astonishment.

Flossie plunged into a more or less incoherent version of all that Nell had done for them, when they were left orphans, but had to stop abruptly in the middle, partly from want of breath, and partly because it was time for her to get tea ready; and to-night, Gertrude would need as much help as she could give her.

Mrs. Bronson put the cups and plates on the table, cut bread and butter for the children, and proved so helpful generally, that Flossie was charmed.

Nell had not returned when tea-time came, and before the meal was over, the first batch of customers came pouring into the kitchen, so Gertrude, with a hurried apology, had to go to them. To her great surprise, Mrs. Bronson came too.

“Oh yes, please, I am going to help if I may. Is there an apron to spare? Thanks.” Swathing herself in a big white linen apron of Nell’s, Mrs. Bronson stood by the cooking-stove for nearly two hours, serving out pints of soup, basins of beans, and big sections of a popular dish which was known as toad-in-the-hole.

There was an unusual rush of customers that evening, and Gertrude would have had a very hard time of it, but for Mrs. Bronson’s help. Patsey put his head in at the kitchen door once to see if his sister had need of him, but seeing Mrs. Bronson busy at the stove, he departed in a great hurry, being a shy boy and not used to the society of strange ladies.

Gertrude was growing secretly anxious about Nell: but it was of no use to send Patsey to meet her, for she did not know in which direction Nell had gone.

The crowd of customers thinned out after a time, the kitchen wore a stripped look, as if a devouring army had passed through; and Gertrude, leaning against the big table, exclaimed ruefully⁠—

“Oh, I am so tired!”

“So am I,” replied Mrs. Bronson, laughing. Then, in a graver tone she asked, “Do you have all this to do, every evening?”

“Nell does. It is her work, you see; and although we all help her as much as we can, she bears the biggest share of the burden herself. But that is her way always,” Gertrude ended up⁠—⁠with a little burst of enthusiasm, as she stood fanning herself with a paper bag, for the evening was warm and the little kitchen felt like an oven.

An absorbed look crept into Mrs. Bronson’s eyes, and anyone might have thought she was nervous when she asked⁠—

“What is Miss Hamblyn like? Is she pretty? And is she a Canadian?”

“I don’t suppose anyone would call Nell really pretty; although to us she is beautiful. But she has a sweet low voice, and her eyes are soft and dark like those of a deer. She was born on the American side, and her father was a preacher; but she never says anything about her life from the time her father died when she was eleven. I think it must have been too sad to talk about.”

“Poor girl!” murmured Mrs. Bronson, softly; and the absorbed look on her face deepened until it became abstraction.

But she roused herself presently, and inquired what was the next thing to be done.

“We don’t do anything at night after the customers are gone, only just rest ourselves. Would you like to put a shawl on and come out in the garden? The moon will be rising very soon, and it is very pleasant out there; but you will need to wrap up, because this place is hot and stuffy.”

“It is warm, certainly. But where are Flossie and the little ones? I haven’t heard anything of them for a long time.”

“Flossie has put the little boys to bed by this time, and I expect she is lying in the hammock under the cedar; at least, I hope she is, for she gets so tired, poor little girl,” Gertrude answered, with a quaver of true motherly feeling in her voice.

“What is the matter with her⁠—⁠hip disease?” asked Mrs. Bronson, as she slowly untied her apron and prepared to fold it up.

“Yes. Dr. Shaw, of Nine Springs, used to say he thought she might outgrow it; but Dr. Russell, who lives at Bratley, thinks she ought to be treated for it now⁠—⁠have specially made instruments and all that sort of thing. But he is poor and we are poor, so it is not to be thought of,” ended Gertrude, with a sigh; and again there was the yearning note in her voice.

“Have you thought of a hospital for her?” asked Mrs. Bronson.

Gertrude shivered. “We could not send her to a hospital, poor little girl; I think it would nearly break her heart; she is so sensitive and nervous.”

“I know the sort of nature and I understand just how you feel about it, for I had a little daughter of my own; but God took her,” Mrs. Bronson said, a trifle unsteadily. Then, in a lighter tone, she went on, “I shall do my best to win Flossie’s affections while I am here, then, if she is willing to come and spend a few months with me in Victoria next winter, we will see what the doctors there can do for her.”

“You are very kind,” said Gertrude, in a moved tone. “If you live in Victoria, do you know the school for electricians there?”

“Royal Mount College, do you mean? I know it well. My son is one of the professors there. But he has an extended vacation this year, because he has not been well. Indeed, at this present moment he is wandering somewhere on the frontier, I fancy; although whether on the American or Canadian side I cannot say. This is the third year that he has taken his vacation in the same neighbourhood; but this year it has begun a month earlier than usual.”

“Nine Springs is not far from the frontier, and there were great forests in that district; but the scenery was not so beautiful as it is here and at Bratley,” Gertrude said.

“My son told me the same thing. He said that Camp’s Gulch was the most beautiful spot among the mountains, and I expect he will come tramping through this way before many days are over, just to see how I am settling down in the wilds.”

“He will not want to stay here?” asked Gertrude, in some alarm, knowing how scanty was the accommodation of the little house.

Mrs. Bronson laughed. “He will never sleep under a roof in summer, if he can help it. He has a huge umbrella that makes a small tent; then, with a strip of indiarubber sheeting and a blanket, he goes about like a snail with his house on his back. Sometimes he hires a horse; more often he just tramps from place to place.”

“It must be a very pleasant way of getting a holiday, only rather tiring,” said Gertrude. Then she burst out with anxiety that would be no longer suppressed, “I am dreadfully worried about Nell, for I am quite certain she would have been back before now if something had not happened to her.”

CHAPTER XXX
An Adventure

WHEN Nell bade good bye to Doss Umpey her intention was to get back to Camp’s Gulch as quickly as she could, in order to send a message asking Dr. Russell to come the next day to see the sick man. If she were too late to send a message by the cars, she would telegraph for him; but in any case she must get the doctor there next day.

The boy Joe offered to escort her all the way back to Camp’s Gulch; but this she would not hear of, for he had already walked the distance twice and must be very tired. Then, too, she did not think the sick man should be left so long alone, for he looked so frail and exhausted that she would not have been surprised if he had died whilst she sat beside him.

So, bribing Joe, with the promise of another pie next day, to take particular care of the invalid until she came again, Nell said farewell to the two; and turning the corner of the great rock was speedily out of sight of the miner’s encampment and making her way homeward as fast as she could go.

For the first mile or two she did very well, for the way, although rough, was mostly downhill, and being a keen observer she found her way without difficulty.

Then came a sharp rise which she remembered perfectly, for it was almost the only bit of downhill which had occurred on the way to Goat’s Gulch. But when she reached the top she found herself confronted by two valleys, and could not recollect which one she had to take.

Sitting down for a five-minutes’ rest on a big stone, Nell surveyed the scene before her and tried to discover which of the two valleys she had to take to get to Camp’s Gulch. It was already growing late, for she had stayed with Doss Umpey much longer than she had intended to do. Even if she walked her hardest and made no mistakes she would not be back until the evening work was all done; and this thought vexed her more than her own weariness, for Gertrude had quite enough to do, without the additional toil of waiting on those hungry evening customers.

A few minutes longer Nell sat on her big stone; then her sharp eyes saw something which made her jump up suddenly and hurry onward. A faint white mist was rising, and she knew it would spread and increase until it filled all the higher valleys with an impenetrable curtain.

Making up her mind in great haste, she plunged into the valley winding away to the left, and went forward as quickly as she could. For the first mile or so she imagined herself to be going right; then, turning an angle, where the trees grew down to the bottom of the valley, she found herself confronted by great yawning holes in the sides of the hills⁠—⁠empty pockets these, where the copper ore had all been cleared out with the miner’s pick⁠—⁠and then she knew all at once that she had come wrong, for she had passed no place like this when walking up with Joe.

A minute or two she paused irresolute, wondering if she would go back to the high ground and take the other valley; then, remembering with a shiver the crawling white mist which was creeping along the hillsides, she decided to go forward, feeling confident that she must come upon some trace of civilization before long, because those yawning holes in the hillside showed that people had been working there at no very distant date.

“I suppose I shall drop down into the Settlement presently,” she said to herself, as she tramped doggedly onward.

Her weariness was beginning to make itself very plainly felt now, and she had a thoroughly exhausted sensation, which was due to want of food. She had not had a proper meal since her early breakfast, and now it was late in the evening.

The valley seemed endless, and when at length she reached its extreme point, it was only to find that it forked, one way going down through a thickly wooded ravine, the other mounting a barren hillside.

Mrs. Nichols was always fond of saying, “When in doubt, take the way which seems easiest;” but although Nell remembered this well enough, she at once resolved in this case to take the hardest way, because once down in the timbered valley she could see nothing but her immediate surroundings. But if she got on to higher ground, she might be able to get some idea of her whereabouts, and luckily she appeared to have got clear of the zone of white mist.

The long upward slope was higher than she had thought it to be. Before she reached the top the sun was down, and the blue grey shadows of twilight were filling in the hollows of the hills, and blurring the outlines of the wooded slopes.

“I may see a camp fire, or a lighted window. If not I shall just sit still for half an hour until the moon rises,” she said to herself, as with sore feet and tired ankles, she toiled wearily up that long, long hill.

It was cooler at the top; a moaning night wind sighed across the great waste, and Nell, who was wearing only a thin cotton blouse, shivered from the cold, as she stood letting her keen gaze travel all round through the gloom.

“What was that?” she cried out, almost shouting in her excitement; for far away, still to the left, was a point of light, which in the distance looked like a camp fire.

“There it is; some one has just lighted a fire to cook supper,” she said, talking to herself, because the sound of her own voice somehow took away her horrible sense of loneliness.

She hurried on down the slope, having to go warily now because of the trouble to see her way. There were rocks and holes in the earth to be avoided on the higher ground, but lower down it would be soft spots which she had to avoid, and these were the most dangerous of all.

But the fire was burning brightly now, and she made her way towards it, thankful to find some one besides herself in that great loneliness, yet with many misgivings as to the kind of people she might find camped about that fire.

In mining districts, the population is always rough in the out-of-the-way hollows of the hills. There were a great many men working who were wanted by the police on both sides of the border, and it was characters like these whom Nell was so afraid of encountering.

But the miners were not all bad, and she knew very well that if it were any of the Syndicate upon whom she chanced to stumble she would be as safe as in her own home, for, thanks to her courage in the matter of the depot robbery, they all regarded her as an absolute heroine, and treated her with the utmost deference.

She was near enough now to see that a man was bending over the fire, apparently cooking supper, and she was hurrying in order to get over the ordeal of accosting him, when the ground suddenly gave way under her feet, and, with a terrified cry, she plunged downward into the darkness.

If she had been watching the path half as carefully as she watched the fire, she would have seen a pocket yawning before her unwary feet, and so have been saved the pain and humiliation of her tumble.

At the sound of her cry, the man who was cooking supper abruptly suspended operations, and sent an answering shout through the darkness.

“What is wrong; do you want help?”

Nell heard the shout through the confusion of her fall, and the sound somehow brought a sense of comfort to her, for the voice had a cheery, resolute ring which was reassuring.

But she was brought up with a sudden jerk on reaching the bottom of the pocket, and lay there for a minute or two, with so much of the breath knocked out of her that she had no power even to shout back.

Then she heard footsteps, and saw a gleam of light. The man had made himself a torch by stuffing a great resinous bough in the fire, and was holding it aloft in order to see better.

“Where are you?” he shouted; and again the sound of his voice brought a thrill of comfort to poor Nell.

“I am here; be careful, or you will fall down too,” she called back; then laughed hysterically because, even as she spoke, the man stumbled and floundered on the edge of the pocket, the torch dropped from his hand, and immediately went out.

“A nasty hole this, especially when you happen upon it unexpectedly,” the man said, in a breathless fashion, as by a great effort he just managed to save himself from rolling down the slope, and crashing upon poor Nell, who was beginning to pick herself up and estimate the number of her injuries.

“Give me your hand, then I will pull you up; but I don’t dare come lower for fear of losing my hold, and tumbling in upon you,” said the man, as, gripping the top with a firm hold, he stretched his other hand down to Nell.

She put her hand into his, wondering why it was his voice had such a familiar ring, then, by a great effort, she pulled herself up the steep side of the pocket.

“How comes it that you are wandering about in such a desolate place so late, and alone?” he asked, with so much reproachful sternness that Nell coloured hotly in distress and mortification.

“I could not help it. I have been to see a sick man at Goat’s Gulch, and I lost my way in returning to Camp’s Gulch depot; can you direct me, if you please?”

There was a thrill of indignation in her voice, for she was angry with him for presuming to lecture her on the impropriety of her conduct.

The man’s grasp of her hand suddenly tightened, and Nell saw that he was peering at her through the gloom.

“Who are you?” he asked, with a ring of anxiety in his tone.

“My name is Eleanor Hamblyn, and I keep the food-shop close to Camp’s Gulch depot; can you direct me there, please? They will be in such a state of worry about me at home,” she said, with a pathetic little break in her tone caused by weariness and fright, for the man had not relinquished her hand.

The moon was coming up, and the purple gloom was being shot with silvery light, when the man suddenly exclaimed, in a tone of delight⁠—

“By all that is wonderful, I believe you are my Miss Nell, my good friend of nearly two years ago!”

“Mr. Bronson?” she said, in amazement. Then, because her relief was so great, collapsed suddenly in a flood of undignified tears.

“Poor little girl!” he said gently. “Come over to my fire, and I will give you some supper. But are you hurt?” he asked anxiously, as Nell stood quaking, shivering on the edge of the yawning pocket, which the light of the rising moon showed so plainly now.

“No, thank you; but I am very tired, and⁠—⁠and hungry,” she admitted, in a burst of candour. “I was rather frightened too, for I thought you were a miner, and some of the people about here are very rough.”

“I am afraid that I look rather rough too, but I have been on the tramp for two weeks now, and work of that sort soon rubs the fresh newness from one’s appearance. Sit down on this stone by the fire, and I will get you a mug of tea and a rasher of bacon in no time. One good turn deserves another, you know, and the last time we met it was you who succoured me,” he said, seating her on a big flat stone close to the blazing wood fire, and then bustling about with hospitable haste to get her some supper, which she was needing so badly.

Nell felt too tremulous and unsteady to trust herself to say much for a few minutes, and she sat watching him in silence, and wondering how it chanced that a man with so much culture and refinement, should be roughing it in the wilds like a common miner.

“Are you criticizing my cookery, or are you wondering how it is that I am wandering round in this fashion, and leading such a vagabond life?” he asked abruptly, as he carefully lifted a tin mug of tea from the coals and brought it to her.

Nell laughed softly. “I was not thinking of the cookery; but it did puzzle me that you should be wandering about in such a fashion, because you⁠—⁠you don’t match the life,” she said, with a little halting confusion of speech, feeling rather ashamed of her curiosity.

He dished a rasher of bacon onto a tin plate, and placed it before her, with a clasp knife, a two-pronged cooking fork, and a big slice of bread, then told her to begin supper at once before the food got cold. But he made no attempt to explain his position, and Nell had a vexed sensation of having been snubbed because of her unwarrantable curiosity.

But the tea was good, despite the battered old tin mug in which it was served, and the bacon was nice to one so hungry as Nell, although, if her appetite had not been so keen, she might have objected to it being scorched black on one side and nearly raw on the other.

When she had taken the sharpest edge from her hunger and thirst, she suddenly became aware that her host was eating nothing, but just sitting on another stone and watching her feed.

“Oh, I am so sorry; it is your supper I am taking, and you have nothing!” she exclaimed.

“Not a bit of it. There are provisions in plenty; it is only the implements which are wanting,” he replied, with a laugh. “You see, there is only one mug, which is kettle, teapot, and teacup all rolled into one; and it is the same with the knife, fork, and plate. However, there is no need to worry, for I am not very hungry to-night, as I had some lunch in the middle of the day, a very unusual thing for me when on tramp, for then, as a rule, I make two good square meals suffice for twenty-four hours.”

Nell finished her supper in a great hurry.

“Now I will cook for you,” she said hastily. “Then, when you have eaten, you will perhaps be so very kind as to show me the way to the depot at Camp’s Gulch, for they will be getting in a fearful state of worry about me.”

“I can show you so far as the Settlement; but after that I fear you will have to be the guide, for I have only come that way once⁠—⁠nearly a year ago⁠—⁠so I can’t be very sure of my road.”

“If you can guide me to the Settlement that is all I shall need, thank you. I know the road perfectly from there,” she answered.

“I hope you don’t suppose that I should let you go all that long way alone. You have had quite enough in the way of adventures for one day, I fancy. But sit still and rest. I shall not be more than ten minutes or a quarter of an hour before I am ready to take the road; and you will travel all the better for the pause,” he said, as he brewed himself another mug of tea and began to eat a hunch of bread.

“Are you not going to have some bacon?” asked Nell, with dismay in her tone.

“No; the bread is quite enough; and I can see you are impatient to be on the move again,” he said. When the tea was to his liking, he swallowed it in great gulps and declared himself ready to start.

“I am so sorry to take you all that way,” murmured Nell, as Mr. Bronson prepared for his start by huddling his cooking utensils into a bag which he slung across his back; then, picking up another bundle and a big umbrella which stood at the foot of a tree close by, declared himself ready to start.

“Are you not coming back to this camp?” she asked in surprise, seeing that he had taken all his belongings and was preparing to kick the fire to pieces.

“No; any two trees suffice to sling my hammock in; then I roll a blanket round me, hoist my umbrella, and sleep peacefully until morning,” he said, laughing at the concern on her face.

“What a dreadful life!” she exclaimed, with consternation in her tone.

“It is just beautiful,” he answered, with enthusiasm. “I go into the wilds for my vacation every year; but I have not ventured on a horse since I had to shoot that poor beast in the swamp two years ago. Then last year and this year I have been looking for you.”

“What do you mean?” asked Nell, in great surprise, thinking she could not possibly have heard aright, since she knew of no reason why Mr. Bronson should want to seek her out.

“Just precisely what I said,” he replied, laughing at her wonderment. “Common gratitude for what you had done for me took me to Blue Bird Ridge last year, only to find that the Lone House had other tenants who could not or would not tell me anything about you. Then I travelled on to Button End and interviewed Joe Lipton; but he knew nothing, and his wife, who might have helped me, was away visiting and could not be got at, so I had to give it up because the end of my vacation was in sight. I had left that part to the last, you see.”

“Yes, I know,” said Nell, thinking of that day in last summer when she had seen Mr. Bronson standing talking to a man at the depot, and Joey Trip had said that it was Dick Brunsen, only it must have been the other man whom Joey meant.

“How did you know?” he asked in surprise.

“I will tell you presently, only I should like to hear your story first,” she answered, with a little catch in her voice, as she thought of the confession she would have to make concerning her disposal of those thirty dollars; and then she began to wonder how long it would take her to save the money which Doss Umpey had spent, so that it might be restored to its rightful owner.

“There isn’t much more story to tell. When I crossed to the mainland this day two weeks ago, I took the cars to Lewisville, tramped from there to Button End, and, happily, found Mrs. Lipton at home. From her I learned a lot about you, which interested me greatly; but when I asked for your address, Mrs. Lipton could only direct me to a Mrs. Nichols at Bratley Junction, and I should have pursued my pilgrim way to Bratley in due course, but for your dropping out of the clouds at my feet, as it were, this evening. But where have you been hiding so carefully all this long time, and why?”

It was Nell’s turn for explanations now, but her story took so long in the telling, and raised so much comment from the listener, that by the time it came to an end the two were going down the last slope of the road to the depot, while a flood of silvery moonlight showed up their figures in strong relief.

“Nell, is it you?” rang out a shrill boy’s voice, and Patsey came bounding from the shadows by the side of the road, where he had been watching and waiting for the last hour, afraid to go any farther from the house, lest he should miss her, and so add to the anxiety and confusion already existing at home.

“I lost my way, that is why I am so late. Is Gertrude much worried?” asked Nell.

“Flossie has nearly cried herself sick, and Gertrude has bothered a good deal. But a lady has come⁠—⁠the summer boarder; only it isn’t the Miss Alfreton that you expected, but her sister, a Mrs. Bronson, and she’s a downright good sort, for she has been in the kitchen all the evening serving soup and toad-in-the-hole.”

“My mother!” exclaimed the man with the big bundle on his back, who was walking on the other side of Nell, and at whom the boy had been peering curiously.

“Oh, I say, are you the Mr. Bronson, the professor at Royal Mount College, that had the tussle with a bear in the Yosemite Valley?” demanded Patsey, eagerly.

“The very same; but that is ancient history now, for it happened five years ago, and I have become wiser since then,” he said, with a laugh which rang through the quiet night.

“Why, that is my Dick’s laugh, I should know it anywhere,” said Mrs. Bronson, who had been standing with Gertrude outside the house door, listening for the first sound of Nell’s coming.

“And that is Nell talking to Patsey; how merry they seem, and how thankful I am that she has got home safely!” exclaimed Gertrude, with a sigh of relief.

Mrs. Bronson had started off to meet the group coming down, and Gertrude followed her.

“My dear Dick, where did you spring from?” cried the mother’s voice, with a ring of glad welcome in it.

“I might ask you the same question, I think,” he replied as he stooped and kissed her, and then as the moonlight fell on her face, Nell saw that she was the original of the portrait, which had been in the case with the thirty dollars⁠—⁠a woman past middle life with a beautiful face, and a sweet, kindly expression.

“What have you been doing, Dick?” the mother asked anxiously, as if her son’s appearance caused her anxiety.

“I have been paying my debts, mother, and helping Miss Hamblyn out of a difficulty, because she helped me two years ago,” he said quietly.

“Oh, you have found her at last!” exclaimed Mrs. Bronson, and then putting her hands on Nell’s shoulders, she looked searchingly into the girl’s face.

“I lost my way and fell into an empty pocket; then Mr. Bronson pulled me out, and kindly gave me some supper; but he has had nothing himself, except a piece of bread and some tea; will you please induce him to come in and let us give him some food?” asked Nell, who had flushed to a bright red under Mrs. Bronson’s gaze.

“Oh yes, we will make him come in and feed him. Then he can sling his hammock under the cedar tree and sleep in peace until morning,” the lady said, with a satisfied laugh, as if her close inspection of Nell had pleased her. “I foresee that he will also want breakfast when morning comes, so you will have two boarders on your hands instead of one.”

“But I shall be more help than hindrance, I am sure, because, you see, I can help with the cooking, or do it all at a pinch,” replied Dick, slipping his bundle from his back when he reached the gate of the garden.

Then Nell, remembering the bacon scorched to a cinder on one side and almost raw on the other, laughed merrily, in spite of her weariness; and they all went indoors to get the hungry man some more supper.