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Show " n BEN AMES WILLIAMS -0 ' WILLIAMS W.M.I I FEATURES the deck Will McPhail sees her. In that moment he loses his balance and the crane in which he is riding falls into the water. Angus McPhail blames Robin Jor Will's death. Now continue with the story. THE STORY SO FAR: After a swift courtship Will McPhail starts (or a sum mer job at Moose Bay, leaving Robin Dale to wonder bow a career girl could , be so completely swept off ber feet. She knows little of Will, except that he is an engineer and that he has a brother named Angus, a dour Scot who hates women. Robin decides to follow Will to Moose Bay. But she doesn't see him. Shortly after the White Queen docks, Robin goes swimming. As she stands on last. "They say he went for a walk," he reported. He looked toward to-ward the yelling crowd. "Want to see that fight? It will beat anything you ever saw in the ring." She shook her head. "I'm really awfully anxious to find Mr. McPhail." Mc-Phail." "We'll catch him at his boat when he comes to bed." "Mightn't he be there now, please?" "Well, it's easy to find out." They drove out the long dock. Under floodlights, men were busy at the spot where the barge and crane had sunk. Mr. Jenkins went down a ladder nailed against piles to the deck of what he said was McPhail's boat; but the cabin scuttle was padlocked, pad-locked, and he climbed the ladder again. "Nobody home," he reported. "But he'll be along. See here, if you don't want to mix with that crowd of drunks in town, let's wait on my boat till he comes." "Do you think he'll come here?" "He's bound to. Either here or the hotel." "We might find him quicker, if we kept hunting, mightn't we?" A group of men, singing as they came out along the dock from town, approached ,and saw. Robin. Mr. Jenkins was on the other side of the car, hidden from them. They stopped beside the car and pressed near, and one of them demanded cheerfully of his companions: "Say, do you see what I see?" He spoke to Robin. "Kid, you've come to the right place. You're going to have lots of friends here." Mr. Jenkins moved around in front of the car so that the head- CHAPTER V The purser found a car; and he was putting her bags in it before she saw that Mr. Jenkins was driving. Mr. Jenkins said, in a pleased tone: "Decided to stay, have you? Say, you change your mind, don't you? You're right, though! It's a great 1 place. I'll take you to the hotel." Mr. Lewis helped her into the car. She thanked him, and Mr. Jenkins started toward shore. She looked straight ahead, not as a defense against him but because she did not want to see what the workmen were doing; but almost at once he pulled over to the side of the dock and stopped and pointed. "That's my boat down there." She saw a gray motor cruiser, long and low with a high deck forward, moored beside the dock. "Care to go aboard her?" he asked. "She's comfortable, neat as a pin." "I'm rather anxious to get settled. set-tled. Do you mind?" "I have to stop a minute, myself. You'd better come see what she's like." "I'll wait here." So Mr. Jenkins dropped down to the deck of the cruiser and disappeared dis-appeared into her cabin. A man came purposefully across the dock to look down at the boat, and then at Robin; and Robin closed her eyes and was very tired. When Mr. Jenkins Jen-kins got in beside her again, and she opened her eyes, the man had disappeared. "We're pulling out Monday," Mr. Jenkins told her, driving on. "Say, I'm glad you're staying. I'll show you the town tonight. You'll get a kick out of it." They were approach- boy with her bag and packsack preceding pre-ceding them. At her room, she thought for an alarmed moment that Mr. Jenkins was coming in; but he put a key into a door opposite hers. "I'm just across the hall," he said. "If you get lonesome, sing out. Want to take a walk before dinner?" "I think not." "I'll see you at dinner, then." She locked her door and told herself her-self that he was just friendly. She heard a steamer whistle, and went to her window and saw the White Queen departing, and that made her feel lost and alone, and she lay down, and for a while she cried, lying ly-ing on her face across the bed. She cried, very quietly, for a long time. Then she began to think about Angus McPhail. It was to find him and try to comfort him that she had come ashore. He would undoubtedly un-doubtedly be staying at the hotel, so after a while she went down to the office to enquire for him. The clerk named Dave looked at her in a way which faintly she resented. It was as though he knew something about her; something at once interesting inter-esting and discreditable. She lifted her head a little, defensively. ' "Is Mr. Angus McPhail staying here?" she asked. "Mr. McPhail?" He seemed surprised, sur-prised, as though his preconceptions were somehow shaken. He repeated repeat-ed stupidly: "Mr. McPhail, the fisheries fish-eries man? Why no, ma'am." "Oh! But where .would he be likely to be?" "I don't know. He has stayed here, before." She thought Angus might be with Will; and she asked steadily enough lights struck him fair. He said to this man: "Do I know you, buddy?" His tone was quiet enough, but the man stared at him and mumbled mum-bled sudden apologies; and he and his companions went hurriedly away. Robin said in some surprise: "Why, they were afraid of you!" "I told you I'd take care of you," said Mr. Jenkins. "You're pretty enough to start a riot, you know. But you don't want to do that. We'll keep you out of sight. Come aboard my boat while we wait for him." In the end she consented. His boat proved to be almost luxurious. He began to talk about the trip toward to-ward Labrador upon which he was about to start; said it was a pity she could not go along. "You'd be mightily interested, and you'd see a lot to paint, up that way." "I'm sure I would." , "I wish there was some way we could manage it." He seemed to have a sudden inspiration. "See here, Marm Freel has been after me for a year, wanting to go up there. I go once a month, selling my line. She's Dad Freel's wife, sixty-odd, a good sport. Suppose she came along? You and she could have the cabin here to yourselves. There's room for me forward." He said he was leaving Monday night. "You don't have to decide now," he added before she could speak. "We'll see Mrs. Freel tomorrow and X w'tp ; h I j j ' 1 i ' " I"! ing the landward end of the dock. "Tough about young McPhail. The kid got fancy with that crane and it killed him. You can't monkey with those babies." The car jolted over the rough road, and suddenly he used the brakes and stopped and spoke to a man walking toward the dock. The man was dressed like a workman, but he looked at Robin in a way she felt. He said to Mr. Jenkins: Jen-kins: "I was looking for you." Mr. Jenkins asked the man a curious curi-ous question. He asked: "Got the 1 tickets?" I The man grinned faintly, and 1 looked at Robin again. "All collect- i ed, yeah," he said. ! Mr. Jenkins nodded. "Then we'll let 'em in tomorrow." He added: "I'll be taking a walk tonight I J might see you." j "Okay," the man assented. "I'll , be around." i The road, with a railway along ! one side to carry freight from the I pier head to the town, rounded a rocky point where the whole face of the precipice had been blasted away to let it pass. Robin began to be Interested, to ask questions. Wherever Wher-ever a trickle of water came down the steep slopes, there were signs warning passers not to drink the water; wa-ter; and she spoke of them. He 1 nodded. "That's all bog water," he explained. "It'll make you sick. They cut a tunnel six feet square through that mountain up there and they bring water down from Bear Lake now." They approached the ! first buildings; and he pointed to one. "There's the police station. Five cops. They'll stay indoors and have a poker game tonight." "Why?" j "Saturday night. Three thousand j men out for a good time can use up j five cops pretty quick." j "Oh! What do they do for a good time? Movies?" He laughed. "Liquor up, mostly. No women here. Drink, and gam- 1 .ble and fight." She remembered a passage in Will's letter which had puzzled her. "What's 'alky?' Alcohol?" ; "Sure." 1 "They drink that?" "Yes." "Heavens to Betsy. Where do they get it?" Mr. Jenkins seemed amused. "Sister, "Sis-ter, when three thousand men with their pockets full of payroll want to buy a drink, somebody will sell it ; to them." He added: "They mix alky with water till they can swallow swal-low it without setting themselves on fire." ; "But why don't they drink whisky, or beer, or something?" "Can't get it. Alky means smaller small-er bulk, so it's easier to run it in, and the men get quicker action when they drink it. Here's the mill. They set up the machinery first and then build the mill around it. Here's the warehouse where they'll store the paper. You could play .football in it It's big enough." "Imagine enough paper to fill it! Where will it all come from?" "They've a tract of spruce here i two hundred miles square. It'll take ! fifty years to cut it, and by that time ! a fifth of it will be big enough to cut again." He spoke as of a per- tonal achievement. "This is big busi- N ness, sister. They've spent a million ' dollars a month here now for over a year; building churches, freezing plants, schools, houses. There's the bank." The car bounced and groaned over bumps in the raw mud of the road, weaving among tractors trac-tors and workmen and scrapers and teams, to turn at last into a graveled grav-eled drive before the hotel. "Here you are, sister. I'll carry your bags." She followed him indoors. At the desk Mr. Jenkins said to the clerk: ' "Give her a goort room, Dave. That corner room, second floor, is empty, isn't it?" He winked, but Robin was registering, did not see him. The clerk named Dave looked admiringly at her bowed head and pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. whis-tle. He called a boy, and Robin turned to thank Mr. Jenkins: but he went with her toward the stairs, the 1 talk it over, and if you like her, you might decide to come." "There's no harm in talking it over," she admitted, smiling a little. lit-tle. "But I'm afraid I can't take the time. Who is Mrs. Freel?" "Dad Freel's the barber," he told her, and laughed. "Quite a character." charac-ter." "Do you suppose Mr. McPhail has come?" . They climbed to the dock level again; and she stayed by the car while he descended and went aboard McPhail's boat. The companion scuttle was open now; and Mr. Jenkins Jen-kins called, got no answer, looked up at her, and then descended into the cabin. As he did so, someone spoke at her elbow. "What's wanted here?" She turned and looked up into the ugliest countenance she had ever seen. She said hurriedly: "We want to see Mr. McPhail! We're just trying to find him." The affrighting man peered at her. "Did ye ever dive off the White Queen's bow?" he asked thickly. "Eh, bad cess to ye!" He gripped her arm with one hand, jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the men busy above the wreck of barge and crane. "If it's Will McPhail ye're wanting to see ye'll not want to see him. The diver's just got him loose yonder. They'll be bringing bring-ing him up now." Mr. Jenkins appeared beside them; he spoke quietly. "Hello, Pat." Mr. Jenkins said, "Give her s good room, Dave." whether Will's body had been recovered. recov-ered. The clerk did not know. "If it has, it'd be at the mortuary," he suggested. He asked: "Did you know him?" "I knew his brother on the White Queen." She hesitated. "I wonder if you could find out for me where Mr. McPhail is staying?" "This is the only place he could stay. He wouldn't go to Freel's. Maybe he'll show up here later." This clerk named Dave, she decided, de-cided, was a little stupid. She asked: "How soon are you serving dinner?" "Ready now," he said. Then he asked: "Want to wait for Mr. Jenkins?" Jen-kins?" "Oh, no!" 'Why should she' resent that question? It was natural enough, since she and Mr. Jenkins had arrived together; but the clerk's tone annoyed her. She went into the dining room; but before she could order, Mr. Jenkins appeared and .without invitation sat down at her table. "Well, everything all right?" he asked. She hesitated. "I want to see Mr. McPhail. The one who was on the White Queen. Do you know him?" "Met him today. I'll find him for you. He might be on his boat. It's tied up, out by mine. We'll take a look after dinner." She could discover no good reason for refusing his insistent helpfulness; helpful-ness; and she needed help. After dinner, the clear twilight soft and beautiful, the sunset's afterglow bright across the water below them, she and Mr. Jenkins began their search. They went in the car, and Robin was a little startled to see so many men everywhere, milling to and fro, shouting now and then for no apparent reason, staring at her in the dusk. Angus McPhail proved hard to find. They enquired first at the barber shop. Mr. Jenkins Jen-kins went in while Robin stayed in the car. A queue of men were waiting wait-ing to be bartered; others, slick and shaven, at intervals emerged; and Robin felt the impact of many eyes. Their voices rose as though they wished her to hear; she thought with a faint amusement they were like small boys showing off when a new girl comes to school. Mr. Jenkins returned. "Freel hasn't seen him," he said. "We'll try the bunkhouse." While he was inside, a fight started not far off, and men raced to form a shouting shout-ing circle around the combatants. Mr. Jenkins, returning, had news at xne Dig man turned. n.n, Mr. Jenkins." He touched his forelock; but Robin saw that it was with respect, re-spect, not fear. "Where's McPhail?" Mr. Jenkins asked. "Yon?" "No, his brother." There was a wail of woe in the big man's tone. "Eh, the poor man has gone to walk the black hurt out of him." "Back tonight?" "Back Monday noon," he said. Mr. Jenkins looked at Robin. "Miss Dale here wanted to see him." The ugly man looked down at Robin again; and he shook his head. "Let her not," he said grimly. "Let her keep herself hid from the eye of him. Let her keep herself away." He turned and stalked off along the pier; and Robin watched him, strangely shaken. There was something some-thing mystic and uncanny about the man; an enigma in his tones, and an eerie wail of grief when he spoke of Angus McPhail. Mr. Jenkins, Jen-kins, beside her, said: "Well, we're wasting time, then." "Who is that man?" (TO BE CONTINUED) |