The Hunted Woman | Page 2

to Tête Jaune?" she asked.
"Yes. May I sit with you for a few minutes? I want to ask questions--so
many!"
The hollow-cheeked girl made room for her at her side.
"You are new?"
"Quite new--to this."
The words, and the manner in which they were spoken, made the other
glance quickly at her companion.
"It is a strange place to go--Tête Jaune," she said. "It is a terrible place
for a woman."
"And yet you are going?"
"I have friends there. Have you?"
"No."
The girl stared at her in amazement. Her voice and her eyes were
bolder now.
"And without friends you are going--there?" she cried. "You have no
husband--no brother----"
"What place is this?" interrupted the other, raising her veil so that she
could look steadily into the other's face. "Would you mind telling me?"

"It is Miette," replied the girl, the flush reddening her cheeks again.
"There's one of the big camps of the railroad builders down on the Flats.
You can see it through the window. That river is the Athabasca."
"Will the train stop here very long?"
The Little Angel shrugged her thin shoulders despairingly.
"Long enough to get me into The Cache mighty late to-night," she
complained. "We won't move for two hours."
"I'd be so glad if you could tell me where I can go for a bath and
something to eat. I'm not very hungry--but I'm terribly dusty. I want to
change some clothes, too. Is there a hotel here?"
Her companion found the question very funny. She had a giggling fit
before she answered.
"You're sure new," she explained. "We don't have hotels up here. We
have bed-houses, chuck-tents, and bunk-shacks. You ask for Bill's
Shack down there on the Flats. It's pretty good. They'll give you a room,
plenty of water, and a looking-glass--an' charge you a dollar. I'd go
with you, but I'm expecting a friend a little later, and if I move I may
lose him. Anybody will tell you where Bill's place is. It's a red an' white
striped tent--and it's respectable."
The stranger girl thanked her, and turned for her bag. As she left the car,
the Little Angel's eyes followed her with a malicious gleam that gave
them the strange glow of candles in a sepulchral cavern. The colours
which she unfurled to all seeking eyes were not secret, and yet she was
filled with an inward antagonism that this stranger with the wonderful
blue eyes had dared to see them and recognize them. She stared after
the retreating form--a tall, slim, exquisitely poised figure that filled her
with envy and a dull sort of hatred. She did not hear a step behind her.
A hand fell familiarly on her shoulder, and a coarse voice laughed
something in her ear that made her jump up with an artificial little
shriek of pleasure. The man nodded toward the end of the now empty
car.

"Who's your new friend?" he asked.
"She's no friend of mine," snapped the girl. "She's another one of them
Dolly Dimples come out to save the world. She's that innocent she
wonders why Tête Jaune ain't a nice place for ladies without escort. I
thought I'd help eggicate her a little an' so I sent her to Bill's place. Oh,
my Lord, I told her it was respectable!"
She doubled over the seat in a fit of merriment, and her companion
seized the opportunity to look out of the window.
The tall, blue-eyed stranger had paused for a moment on the last step of
the car to pin up her veil, fully revealing her face. Then she stepped
lightly to the ground, and found herself facing the sunlight and the
mountains. She drew a slow, deep breath between her parted lips, and
turned wonderingly, for a moment forgetful. It was the first time she
had left the train since entering the mountains, and she understood now
why some one in the coach had spoken of the Miette Plain as Sunshine
Pool. Where-ever she looked the mountains fronted her, with their
splendid green slopes reaching up to their bald caps of gray shale and
reddish rock or gleaming summits of snow. Into this "pool"--this pocket
in the mountains--the sun descended in a wonderful flood. It stirred her
blood like a tonic. She breathed more quickly; a soft glow coloured her
cheeks; her eyes grew more deeply violet as they caught the reflection
of the blue sky. A gentle wind fretted the loose tendrils of brown hair
about her face. And the bearded man, staring through the car window,
saw her thus, and for an hour after that the hollow-cheeked girl
wondered at the strange change in him.
The train had stopped at the edge of the big fill overlooking the Flats. It
was a