"Well, well! Must I explain the whys and wherefores of every move I make?"

"It would be spying if I went back. The matter is confidential--I know that."

"Will you do as I ask?" he demanded.

Natalie answered him firmly: "No! I told you what I did tell you only so that you might correct--"

"You rebel, eh?" Gordon spoke out furiously.

It was their first clash since the marriage. Mrs. Gordon looked on, torn between loyalty to her husband and a desire to protect her daughter. She was searching her mind painfully for the compromise, the half-truth that was her remedy for every moral distress. At length she said, placatingly:

"I'm sure Natalie will help you in any way she can, Curtis. She isn't rebellious, she merely doesn't understand."

"She doesn't need to understand. It is enough that I direct her--" As Natalie turned and walked silently to the window he stifled an oath.

"Have I no authority?" he stormed. "Do you mean to obey?"

"Wait!" Gloria laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Perhaps I can learn what you want to know. Mr. O'Neil was very kind--"

Her daughter whirled, with white face and flashing eyes.

"Mother!" she gasped.

"Our loyalty begins at home," said Gloria, feebly.

"Oh-h! I can't conceive of your--of such a thing. If you have no decency, I have. I'm sorry I spoke, but--if you DARE to do such a thing I shall warn Mr. O'Neil that you are a spy." She turned a glance of loathing on Gordon. "I see," she said, quietly. "You used me as a tool.

You lied about your feeling toward him. You meant harm to him all the time." She faced the window again.

"Lied!" he shouted. "Be careful--that's pretty strong language. Don't try me too far, or you may find yourself adrift once more. I have been too patient. But I have other ways of finding out what I wish to know, and I shall verify what you have told me." He strode angrily from the room, leaving Natalie staring out upon the bleak fall scene, her shoulders very straight, her breast heaving. Gloria did not venture to address her.

Fortunately for the peace of all concerned, Gordon left for Seattle on the next steamer. Neither of the women believed that Natalie's fragmentary revelation was the cause of his departure; but, once in touch with outside affairs, he lost no time in running down the clues he had gathered, and it was not long before he had learned enough to piece the truth together. Then he once more brought his mimeograph into use.

XXI

DAN APPLETON SLIPS THE LEASH

The first winter snows found O'Neil's track laid to the bridge site and the structure itself well begun. He had moved his office out to the front, and now saw little of Eliza, who was busied in writing her book.

She had finished her magazine articles, and they had been accepted, but she had given him no hint as to their character.

One afternoon "Happy Tom" burst in upon his chief, having hastened out from Omar on a construction-train. Drawing a Seattle paper from his pocket, he began excitedly:

"Well, the fat's in the fire, Murray! Somebody has belched up the whole North Pa.s.s story."

O'Neil seized the newspaper and scanned it hurriedly. He looked up, scowling.

"Who gave this out?" he inquired, in a harsh voice.

Slater shrugged. "It's in the Cortez Courier too, so I s'pose it came from Gordon. Blessings come from one source, and Gordon's the fountain of all evil. I'm getting so I blame him for everything unpleasant.

Sometimes I think he gave me the smallpox."

"Where did he learn the inside of Illis's deal? By G.o.d! There's a leak somewhere!"

"Maybe he uncovered it back there in the States."

Murray shook his head. "n.o.body knows anything about it except you boys." He seized the telephone at his elbow and called Dr. Gray, while Tom listened with his shining forehead puckered anxiously. O'Neil hung up with a black face.

"Appleton!" he said.

Tom looked, if possible, a shade gloomier than usual. "I wouldn't be too sure it was Dan if I was you," he ventured, doubtfully.

"Where is he?" O'Neil ground out the words between his teeth.

"Surveying the town-site addition. If he let anything slip it was by mistake--"

"Mistake! I won't employ people who make mistakes of that kind. This story may bring the Canadian Government down on Illis and forfeit his North Pa.s.s charter--to say nothing of our authorities. That would finish us." He rose, went to the door, and ordered the recently arrived engine uncoupled. Flinging himself into his fur coat, he growled: "I'd rather have a crook under me than a fool. Appleton told us he talked too much."

Tom pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Gordon got it through the Gerard girl, I s'pose."

"Gordon! Gordon! Will there never be an end to Gordon?" His frown deepened. "He's in the way, Tom. If he balks this deal I'm afraid I'll--have to change ghosts."

"It would be a pious act," Slater declared. "And his ghost wouldn't ha'nt you none, either. It would put on its asbestos overshoes and go out among the other shades selling stock in electric fans or 'Gordon's Arctic Toboggan Slide.' He'd promote a Purgatory Development Company and underwrite the Bottomless Pit for its sulphur. I--I'd hate to think this came from Dan."

The locomotive had been switched out by this time, and O'Neil hurried to board it. On his way to Omar he had time thoroughly to weigh the results of this unexpected complication. His present desire was merely to verify his suspicion that Appleton had told his secret to Natalie; beyond that he did not care to think, for there was but one course open.

His anger reached the blazing-point after his arrival. As he stepped down from the engine-cab Gray silently handed him a code message from London which had arrived a few moments before. When its contents had been deciphered, O'Neil cursed and he was furious as he stumbled through the dark toward the green bungalow on the hill.

Swinging round the corner of the house, he came into a bright radiance which streamed forth from Eliza's window, and he could not help seeing the interior of the room. She was there, writing busily, and he saw that she was clad in the elaborate kimono which he had given her; yet it was not her personal appearance which arrested his angry eyes and caused his step to halt; it was, instead, her surroundings.

He had grown to accept her prim simplicity as a matter of course, and never a.s.sociated her in his thoughts with anything feminine, but the room as it lay before him now was a revelation of daintiness and artful decoration. Tasteful water-colors hung on the walls, a warm rug was on the floor, and everywhere were rosy touches of color. The plain white bed had been transformed into a couch of Oriental luxury; a lace spread of weblike texture covered it, the pillows were hidden beneath billowing ma.s.ses of ruffles and ribbons. He saw a typical woman's cozy corner piled high with cushions; there was a jar of burning incense sticks near it--everything, in fact, was utterly at variance with his notions of the owner. Even the girl herself seemed transfigured for her hair was brought forward around her face in some loose mysterious fashion which gave her a bewilderingly girlish appearance. As he looked in upon her she raised her face so that the light shone full upon it; her brows were puckered, she nibbled at the end of her pencil, in the midst of some creative puzzle.

O'Neil's eyes photographed all this in a single surprised glance as he pa.s.sed; the next moment he was mounting the steps to the porch.

Dan flung open the door, but his words of greeting froze, his smile of welcome vanished at sight of his chief's forbidding visage.

Murray was in no mood to waste words; he began roughly:

"Did you tell Miss Gerard that Poultney Illis is backing me?"

Dan stammered. "I--perhaps--I--What has gone wrong, Chief?"

"Did you tell her the inside--the story of his agreement with the steamboat people?"

Dan paled beneath his tan, but his eyes met Murray's without flinching.

"I think I did--tell her something. I don't quite remember. But anything I may have said was in confi--"