Delilah of the Snows. Bindloss Harold

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in front of him with his head tilted backwards a trifle. Then there was a jingle of accoutrements as the young officer, turning half-round in his saddle with one hand on his hip, glanced backward down the trail.

      "Look out for the low branch as you come up, sir," he said.

      Ingleby stood still, nettled by the fashion in which the man ignored him, for no freighter or prospector would have passed without at least a friendly greeting, and while he waited it happened that Leger stirred the fire. A brighter blaze sprang up and flashed upon the officer's accoutrements and spurs, and then there was a pounding of hoofs, and a horse reared suddenly in the stream of ruddy light. The officer wheeled his beast with a warning shout, but Ingleby had seen the shadowy form in the habit, and seized the horse's bridle.

      "Hold fast!" he said. "There's a nasty drop just outside the trail."

      Then for a few seconds man and startled horse apparently went round and round scattering fir needles and rattling gravel, until the half-broken cayuse yielded and Ingleby stood still, gasping, with his hand on the bridle, while a girl who did not seem very much concerned looked down on him from the saddle.

      "You!" she said. "I fancied the voice was familiar. So you are going to the mines after all?"

      The firelight still flickering redly upon the towering trunks showed Hetty Leger the curious intentness in Ingleby's gaze. Then, having done enough to disturb her peace of mind for that night, at least, it sank a trifle, and as two more men rode out of the shadow the officer turned to Ingleby.

      "Have you no more sense than build your fire right beside the trail?" he asked.

      Ingleby quietly turned his back on him, and patted the still trembling horse.

      "I hope you were not frightened, Miss Coulthurst," he said.

      Grace smiled at him, but before she could speak the young officer pushed his horse a few paces nearer Ingleby.

      "I asked you a question," he said.

      Ingleby glanced at him over his shoulder. "Yes," he said drily, "I believe you did."

      He turned his head again, and Hetty, sitting unseen in the shadow, failed to see his face as he looked up at the girl whose bridle he held. She could, however, see the young officer glancing down at him apparently with astonishment as well as anger, and the police trooper behind sitting woodenly still with a broad grin on his face, until a burly man appeared suddenly in the sinking light. Then Grace Coulthurst laughed.

      "Will you be good enough to ride on, Reggie? I told you my opinion of this horse," she said. "Father, I really think you ought to thank Mr. Ingleby."

      Major Coulthurst turned suddenly in his saddle.

      "Ingleby?" he said. "Very much obliged to you, I'm sure. I have a fancy I've seen you before."

      "I once had the pleasure of handing you a cup of tea at a tennis match at Holtcar."

      Coulthurst laughed. "Yes," he said. "I remember it now, especially as it was a remarkably hot day and I would a good deal sooner have had a whisky-and-soda. Still, I've seen you somewhere since then, haven't I?"

      "Yes, sir," said Ingleby drily. "On a Sunday afternoon – at Willow Dene."

      Coulthurst laughed again, good-humouredly. "Of course I remember that, too, though I hope you've grown out of your fondness for taking liberties with other people's property. That kind of thing is still less tolerated in this country. In the meanwhile we have a good way to go before we camp. Once more, I'm much obliged to you."

      He touched his horse with the spur, and when he and the troopers melted into the night Ingleby turned, with one hand closed a trifle viciously, towards the fire.

      "Major Coulthurst is human, anyway, but the other fellow's insolence made me long to pull him off his horse," he said. "Is there, after all, any essential difference between an officer of the Northwest Police and a mineral claim prospector?"

      "One can't help admitting that in some respects there seems to be a good deal," said Leger drily. "Still, I should scarcely fancy the Canadian ones are likely to be so unpleasantly sensible of it. The gentleman in question was apparently born in England."

      "Where else could you expect a man of his kind to come from?" and Ingleby kicked a smouldering brand back into the fire, "I fancied we had left that languid superciliousness behind us. It's galling to run up against it again here."

      "My uncle's spirit in these stones!" said Leger. "Still, aren't you getting a little too old now to run a tilt against the defects of the national character? One feels more sure of doing it effectively when he's younger."

      Ingleby laughed, for his ill humour seldom lasted long. "I suppose nobody can help being an ass now and then, and, after all, the best protest is the sure and silent kick when people who treat you like one unnecessarily add to your burden. Anyway, that trooper's grin was soothing. It suggested that there was a good deal of human nature under his uniform."

      "I was looking at the officer man, and scarcely noticed him. It occurred to me that the attitude you complain of probably runs in the family."

      "I can't say I understand you."

      "Well," said Leger reflectively, "I can't help a fancy that we once met somebody very like him on another occasion when we both lost our temper."

      "At Willow Dene?"

      "Exactly!" said Leger. "You can think it over. I'll wash the plates at the creek and get some water."

      He turned away, leaving Ingleby considerably astonished and half-persuaded that he was right. The latter was still looking into the darkness when Hetty spoke to him.

      "It's not worth worrying about. Come and sit down," she said. "Who was that girl, Walter?"

      "Miss Coulthurst," said Ingleby.

      Hetty moved a little so that the firelight no longer fell upon her, and Ingleby noticed that she was silent a somewhat unusual time. Then she asked, "The girl you used to play tennis with at Holtcar?"

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