Listers Great Adventure | Page 9

begin with, I'm going to hide these tracks. After all, I don't see
much light. I suppose I ought to tell my mother and put Mrs.
Cartwright wise; but I won't. Spying on a girl and telling is mean. All
the same, I'm surely bothered. In a sense, my mother's accountable for
her guests and the girl's nice. I'd like it if I could talk to the man."
"Nothing doing there; he'll watch out. Well, we'll hide up his tracks and
look for my knife. D'you think Grace Hyslop knew the job was put
up?"
"I don't," said Vernon dryly. "I reckon she was puzzled, but that's all.
You couldn't persuade Miss Hyslop her sister liked adventures in the
dark. Anyhow, the thing's done with. We have got to let it go."
They went off and Winter pondered. Harry had got something of a
knock. Perhaps he was taking the proper line; anyhow, it was the line
Harry would take, but Bob doubted. The girl was very young and the
man who met her in the dark was obviously a wastrel.
When they returned for breakfast Barbara had joined the others and
wore soft Indian moccasins. Bob looked at Harry and understood his
frown. Harry had played up when he helped her home, but he, no doubt,
thought the game ought to stop. Bob wondered whether Barbara knew,
because she turned her head when Harry advanced.
After breakfast, Mrs. Vernon, carrying a small bottle, joined Mrs.
Cartwright's party under the pines outside the tent. The dew was drying
and the water shone like a mirror, but it was cool in the shade. Barbara
occupied a camp-chair and rested her foot on a stone, Mrs. Cartwright
knitted, and Grace studied a philosophical book. Her rule was to
cultivate her mind for a fixed time every day. Harry Vernon strolled up
to the group and Mrs. Cartwright put down her knitting.

"You're kind, but the child's obstinate and won't let me see her foot,"
she said to Mrs. Vernon.
"It's comfortable now," Barbara remarked. "When something that hurt
you stops hurting I think it's better to leave it alone. Besides, one
doesn't want to bother people."
"You won't bother me, and I'll fix your foot in two or three minutes so
it won't hurt again," Mrs. Vernon declared. "The elixir's famous and I
haven't known it to miss. I always carry some when we camp in the
woods." She turned to her son. "Tell Barbara how soon I cured you
when you hurt your arm."
"You want to burn Miss Hyslop with the elixir?"
"It doesn't burn much. You said you hardly felt it, and soon after I
rubbed your arm the pain was gone."
Harry glanced at Barbara and saw she was embarrassed, although her
mouth was firm. Since she did not mean to let Mrs. Vernon examine
her supposititious injury, his business was to help, and he laughed.
"Miss Hyslop's skin is not like my tough hide. You certainly fixed my
arm, but it was a drastic cure, and I think Miss Hyslop ought to refuse. I
try to indulge you, like a dutiful son, but you are not her mother."
"I am her mother and she will not indulge me," Mrs. Cartwright
remarked with languid grievance, and Barbara gave Harry a quick,
searching glance. His face was inscrutable, but she wondered how
much he knew. She felt shabby and ashamed.
When Mrs. Vernon went off with the elixir, Harry sat down.
"If you could bring Mr. Cartwright out, I might persuade my father to
come along," he said. "The old man likes Cartwright; declares he's a
sport."
"He is a ship-owner." Grace remarked. "I think he used to shoot, but it's

some time since."
Harry looked at Barbara and his eyes twinkled. "American English isn't
Oxford English, but your people are beginning to use it and Miss
Barbara learns fast. All the same, running the Independent Freighters is
quite a sporting proposition, and I imagine Mr. Cartwright generally
makes good. The old man and I would back him to put over an
awkward deal every time."
"My husband is a good business man," Mrs. Cartwright agreed. "But
you belong to Winnipeg and I understand his business is at Montreal."
"The steamship Conference understood something like that, until
Cartwright put them wise. You see, we Western people grow the wheat
that goes down the lakes, and when the Conference got to know an
Independent boat was coming out they went round and offered
Montreal shippers and brokers a drawback on the rates. That is, if the
shippers gave them all their stuff, they'd meet their bills for a rebate
some time afterwards. Bully for the shippers, but it left the Western
men, who raised the wheat, in the cold. Well, while the