No one answered him. An exchange of glances went round the room, carefully leaving the manager out.
Presently Angus looked up.
"Eh?" he demanded.
Abe cleared his throat.
"Guess I don"t know of any female running loose around here. They"ve most all got local beaus," he said, while he shifted his position uncomfortably.
Sid caught his eye and shook his head.
"Can"t say," he observed. "I see him once with a gal. They wer" a long piece off. She was tall an"--an" upstandin". Didn"t just recognize her."
"Guess I see him with her, too," put in Pete, almost eagerly. "Seen him several times with her. They were way out riding. I was too far off to see them right."
"She was tall, eh?" said Josh reflectively. "Guess that"s who I met on the trail driving with him. Maybe she belongs to one of the farms."
"Maybe," muttered Angus dryly. "Anyway, I don"t guess it"s up to us to worry our heads gray over him and his lady friend. But it"s good to see folks coming around. This place is surely going to boom, fellers. It"s going to be a great town. Hendrie"s working on a big scheme that"s going to bring the railway through here, and set values going up sky high. Don"t say I told you nothing. I"ve closed a deal in town lots for myself, and if you"ve got any spare dollars I"d advise----"
He broke off and looked across at the doorway as another townsman came in. It was Charlie Maybee, the postmaster.
"Evening, boys. Evening, Mr. Moraine," he cried, his genial face beaming cordially on everybody. "Say, Mr. Moraine, I guessed maybe I"d find you. I got some mail here for Mrs. Hendrie. It"s local, and addressed to the post-office. We don"t get mail much that way, so I thought I"d hand it to you. It"ll save the lady comin" along in for it."
He produced the letter and handed it to Angus while accepting his invitation to drink.
"Mailed locally?" the manager inquired casually.
"Yes, This morning."
"Ah."
The keen-eyed Scot intercepted another exchange of meaning glances, and looked from one to the other with some severity.
"Say," he cried, with a sudden and studied return to his usual dour manner, "some of you boys seem to be saying one thing and--thinking another. Maybe you know something about this letter."
An instant denial leaped to everybody"s lips, but Angus was playing his part too well for these country town-folk. He maintained his atmosphere of displeasure and suspicion, and finally the impulsive butcher cleared his throat.
"Pshaw!" he exclaimed nervously. "What"s the use beatin" around? We"re all good friends right here, an" we all feel that we owe Mr. Hendrie a mighty lot for what he"s doing for this city. An", I guess, when there"s things goin" on that don"t seem right by him it"s up to us to open our mouths. We don"t know a thing about that letter, Mr. Moraine, but it just fits in with things we do know--all of us. We know that just as soon as Mr. Hendrie disappears from the farm some other feller appears, and his name"s Frank Smith, and he mostly gets around riding and driving with Mrs. Hendrie. That"s what we know."
The butcher"s forehead was beaded with perspiration as he came to the end of his statement, but he stared defiantly round at the disapproving faces of his friends.
Angus fixed him with a stern eye.
"You surely do know a lot," he exclaimed, with angry sarcasm. "And I want to tell you that I know a lot--too. This is what I know. What you"re saying is a d.a.m.ned scandal. Do you get me? A d.a.m.ned scandal," he reiterated. "And if I told Mr. Hendrie he"d have you all for criminal libel--or worse. Now, see here," he went on, after a dramatic pause, "I tell you plainly--if I ever hear another breath of the like of this yarn going around I"ll see that Mr. Hendrie has you all lagged for a pack of libelous rascals who ought to be in penitentiary."
He finished up his angry denunciation by bringing his clenched fist down on the table bell with a force that brought Mr. Sharpe flying into the room on the dead run, and left the shamefaced townsmen glowering upon the flaming face of their unfortunate comrade.
But the sensations of the evening did not end here. Angus furnished them with another, even greater than those which had preceded it.
"Take the orders--again!" he cried, as though hurling a challenge, and daring any one to refuse his hospitality.
And such was the apprehension his manner inspired in the hearts of the gathered scandal-mongers, that all selection was reduced to a general call for whisky, that being the only refreshment their confused brains could think of under such a dreadful strain.
CHAPTER IX
THE WHEAT TRUST
Monica leaned forward in her saddle as her well-trained broncho came to a stand. She set her elbow on her knee, and the oval of her pensive face found a resting place in the palm of her hand. Thus she sat gazing out over the golden world, which rustled and rippled in the lightest of summer zephyrs, chanting its whispered song of prosperity to the delight of her listening ears.
Summer was nearing its height and a perfect day shone down upon the world. There was no cloud to mar the perfect azure of the sky, or shadow the ripening sun. The lightest of summer breezes scarcely stirred the perfumed air, which she drank in, in deep breaths, her whole being pervaded with the joy of living.
Everywhere about her spread out this rippling sea of golden wheat. Far as the eye could see, in the vague heat haze which hovered over the distant line of nodding grain, it washed the sh.o.r.es of an indefinite horizon, a monument to one man"s genius, a testimony to the unflinching determination with which he faced the world and wrested from life all those things his heart was set upon.
A great pride stirred within her. It was a worthy labor; it was magnificent. Was there another man in the world comparable with this great husband of hers? She thought not. His was the brain which had conceived the stupendous scheme; his was the guiding hand which had organized this vast feeding-ground of a hungry world; his was the courage that feared neither failure nor disaster; his was the driving force which carried him on, surmounting every difficulty, or thrusting them ruthlessly from his path.
What other schemes yet lay behind his steady eyes awaiting the moment of decision for their operation? She wondered; and wondering smiled, confident in the knowledge that he had yet worlds to conquer, and that she would share in his victories. It all seemed very, very wonderful to this woman who, all her life, had only known desperate struggles for her bare needs.
Suddenly she sat up and flung her arms wide open, as though in a wild desire to take to her bosom the whole world about her. Then she laughed aloud, a joyous, happy laugh, and set her horse galloping toward her home. She loved it all, every acre of it, every golden ear, every red grain that grew there. She loved it because of--him.
Her delight culminated as she reached the house. As the man-servant stepped forward to a.s.sist her to dismount he gave her the only information that could have added to her happiness at such a moment.
"Mr. Hendrie is home, ma"am," he said. "He"s in the office, awaiting your return."
Monica sprang to the ground with an exclamation which, even to the well-trained footman, conveyed something of her feelings, and ran into the house. In a moment, almost, she was in her husband"s arms, and returning his caresses.
"I made home sooner than I hoped, Mon," he said, the moment of their greeting over.
The woman"s smiling eyes looked up into his face.
"Yes. And I"m so glad. You said not until Thursday next, and this is only Sat.u.r.day. You were full of a tremendous business in your letter last Tuesday. Something you couldn"t trust to paper."
The man smiled, but his powerful features wore that set look which Monica had long ago learned to understand meant the machine-like working of the brain behind it on some matter which occupied his whole attention.
"That"s it," he said, in his sparing manner when dealing with affairs.
"Trust."
"Trust?" Monica echoed the word, her eyes widening with inquiry.
Hendrie nodded.
"This has been a secret I"ve kept--even from you," he said. "From the moment you promised to be my wife, why, I just determined to turn all my wheat interests into one huge trust. I determined to organize it, and become its president for a while. After it"s good and going--maybe I"ll retire from active service and--just hand over the rest of my life to you, and to those things which are, perhaps, more worth doing--than--than, well, growing wheat."
The woman"s face was a study in emotion.
"Oh, Alec," she cried. "You--you are doing this for--me?"