"But four thousand dollars," she said, "is surely a small price.""Small? I know it is small, but Martin knows I am in a corner. He is a highway robber."It was a bitter experience for him to be forced to confess himself a business failure, and with this bitterness there mingled a feeling of hostility toward all successful business men. To him it seemed that in order to win success in business a man must become, like Mr. Martin, a highway robber. In this mood of bitterness and hostility toward successful men, Mr. Sleighter found him the next day.
"Couldn't find you at the store," said that gentleman, walking in with his hat on his head. "I wanted to get this business straightened up, so I just came in. Won't take more than five minutes. I guess you won't mind taking a little check from me.
Your business turned out better than that fool of an assignee thought. Don't hurt me any, of course. I got all that was comin' to me out of it, but here's this check. Perhaps you'll sign the receipt. I guess they been puttin' it over you all right. You're a little too soft with 'em."Mr. Gwynne was an even-tempered man, but Mr. Sleighter's patronising manner and his criticism of his business ability wrought in him a rage that he could with difficulty control. He remembered he was in his own house, however, and that the man before him was a stranger.
While he was searching for pen and ink the door opened and his wife entered the room. Mr. Sleighter, with his hat still upon his head, was intently gazing out of the window, easily rocking on the two hind legs of the chair. The door opened behind him.
"My dear," said Mr. Gwynne, "will you excuse me? I am engaged.""Oh, I beg your pardon, I didn't know any one was here. I merely wanted--"Mr. Sleighter glanced over his shoulder.
"Mr. Sleighter," said Mr. Gwynne. "My wife."It was not his tone, however, that brought Mr. Sleighter hurriedly to his feet with his hat in his hand. It was something in the bearing of the little lady standing behind him.
"Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I hope you are well," he said, bowing elaborately before her.
"Thank you very much, I am quite well. I have heard a great deal about you, Mr. Sleighter. I am glad to meet you."Mr. Sleighter held her hand a moment while her eyes rested quietly and kindly, if searchingly, upon his face. This was the man who had profited by her husband's loss. Was he too a highway robber?
Mr. Sleighter somehow felt as if his soul were being exposed to a searchlight. It made him uncomfortable.
"It's a fine day, ma'am," he remarked, seeking cover for his soul in conversation. "A little warm for the time," he continued, wiping his forehead with a highly coloured silk handkerchief.
"Won't you sit down, Mr. Sleighter? Do you find it warm? Ithought there was quite a chilly wind to-day. But then you are more accustomed to the wind than I."The searching eyes were holding him steadily, but the face was kindly and full of genuine interest.
"I guess so," he said with a little laugh. He would have scorned to acknowledge that his laugh was nervous and thin. "I come from the windy side of the earth.""Oh!"
"Yes, I am from out West--Alberta. We have got all the winds there is and the Chinook besides for a change.""Alberta? The Chinook?" The eyes became less searching.
"Yes, that's the wind that comes down from the mountains and licks up the snow at ten miles an hour.""Oh!"
"It was an Alberta man, you know, who invented a rig with runners in front and wheels behind." The lady was bewildered. "To catch up with the Chinook, you see. One of my kid's jokes. Not much of a joke I guess, but he's always ringin' 'em in.""You have a son, Mr. Sleighter? He's in Alberta now?""No, the missis and the kids, three of them, are in Winnipeg. She got tired of it out there; she was always wantin' the city, so Igave in."
"I hear it's a beautiful country out there."
"Now you're talkin', ma'am." She had touched Mr. Sleighter's favourite theme. Indeed, the absorbing passion of his life, next to the picking up of good salvage bargains, was his home in the Foothill country of the West.
While he was engaged in an enthusiastic description of the glories of that wonderland the children came in and were presented. Mr. Gwynne handed his visitor his receipt and stood suggestively awaiting his departure. But Mr. Sleighter was fairly started on his subject and was not to be denied. The little girls drew shyly near him with eyes aglow while Mr. Sleighter's words roiled forth like a mountain flood. Eloquently he described the beauty of the rolling lands, the splendour of the mountains, the richness of the soil, the health-giving qualities of the climate, the warm-hearted hospitality of the settlers.
"None of your pin-head two-by-four shysters that you see here in the East," exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. "I mean some folks, of course," he explained in some confusion.
"And the children, did they like it?" inquired Mrs. Gwynne.
