Vane of the Timberlands | Page 2

skin hinted at a sanguine
and somewhat impatient temperament. As a matter of fact, the man was
resolute and usually shrewd; but there was a vein of impulsiveness in
him, and, while he possessed considerable powers of endurance, he was
on occasion troubled by a shortness of temper.
His companion, Carroll, had lighter hair and gray eyes, and his
appearance was a little less vigorous and a little more refined; though
he, too, had toiled hard and borne many privations in the wilderness.
His dress resembled Vane's, but, dilapidated as it was, it suggested a
greater fastidiousness.
The two had located a valuable mineral property some months earlier
and, though this does not invariably follow, had held their own against
city financiers during the negotiations that preceded the floating of a
company to work the mine. That they had succeeded in securing a good
deal of the stock was largely due to Vane's pertinacity and said
something for his acumen; but both had been trained in a very hard
school.
As the wooden houses ahead rose higher and the sloop's gray hull grew
into sharper shape upon the clear green shining of the brine, Vane
broke into a snatch of song:
"Had I the wings of a dove, I would fly Just for to-night to the Old
Country."
He stopped and laughed.
"It's nine years since I've seen it, but I can't get those lines out of my
head. Perhaps it's because of the girl who sang them. Somehow, I felt
sorry for her. She had remarkably fine eyes."
"Sea-blue," suggested his companion. "I don't grasp the connection
between the last two remarks."

"Neither do I," admitted Vane. "I suppose there isn't one. But they
weren't sea-blue; unless you mean the depth of indigo when you are out
of soundings. They're Irish eyes."
"You're not Irish. There's not a trace of the Celt in you, except, perhaps,
your habit of getting indignant with the people who don't share your
views."
"No, sir! By birth, I'm North Country--England, I mean. Over there
we're descendants of the Saxons, Scandinavians, Danes--Teutonic stock
at bottom, anyhow; and we've inherited their unromantic virtues. We're
solid, and cautious, respectable before everything, and smart at getting
hold of anything worth having. As a matter of fact, you Ontario
Scotsmen are mighty like us."
"You certainly came out well ahead of those city men who put up the
money," agreed Carroll. "I guess it's in the blood; though I fancied once
or twice that they would take the mine from you."
Vane brought his paddle down with a thud.
"Just for to-night to the Old Country,--"
He hummed, and added:
"It sticks to one."
"What made you leave the Old Country? I don't think you ever told
me."
Vane laughed.
"That's a blamed injudicious question to ask anybody, as you ought to
know; but in this particular instance you shall have an answer. There
was a row at home--I was a sentimentalist then, and just eighteen--and
as a result of it I came out to Canada." His voice changed and grew
softer. "I hadn't many relatives, and, except one sister, they're all gone
now. That reminds me--she's not going to lecture for the county

education authorities any longer."
The sloop was close ahead, and slackening the paddling they ran
alongside. Vane glanced at his watch when they had climbed on board.
"Supper will be finished at the hotel," he remarked. "You had better get
the stove lighted. It's your turn, and that rascally Siwash seems to have
gone off again. If he's not back when we're ready, we'll sail without
him."
Supper is served at the hotels in the western settlements as soon as
work ceases for the day, and the man who arrives after it is over must
wait until the next day's breakfast is ready. Carroll, accordingly,
prepared the meal; and when they had finished it they lay on deck
smoking with a content not altogether accounted for by a satisfied
appetite. They had spent several anxious months, during which they
had come very near the end of their slender resources, arranging for the
exploitation of the mine, and now at last the work was over. Vane had
that day made his final plans for the construction of a road and a wharf
by which the ore could be economically shipped for reduction, or, as an
alternative to this, for the erection of a small smelting plant. They had
bought the sloop as a convenient means of conveyance and shelter, as
they could live in some comfort on board; and now they could take
their ease for a while, which was a very unusual thing to both of them.
"I suppose you're bent on sailing this craft back?" Carroll remarked at
length. "We could hire a couple of