Landslide

I

Nothing much happened just after that. I didn’t make any move against Bull Matterson and McDougall didn’t push me. I think he realized I had to have time to come to terms with the problem he had handed me.

Clare went up to her cabin in the Kinoxi Valley, and before she went I said, ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped me doing that survey on your land. I might have come across a big strike of manganese or something — enough to have stopped the flooding of the valley.’

She said slowly, ‘Suppose you found something now — would it still make a difference?’

‘It might — if it were a big enough find. The Government might favour a mining settlement rather than a dam; it would employ more people.’

‘Then why don’t you come and give the land a check?’ She smiled. ‘A last-ditch effort.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Give me a few days to get sorted out.’

I went prospecting but nowhere near the dam. In spite of Matterson’s assurance of safety, something might have stirred up, say, between me and Jimmy Waystrand — or those truckers, if I came across them — and I wanted no trouble until I had got things clear in my mind. So I fossicked about on the Crown lands to the west, not really looking for anything in particular and with my mind only half on the job.

After two weeks I went back to Fort Farrell, no more decided than I had been when I left. I was dreaming a lot of nights and that wasn’t doing me any good, either. The dreams were changing in character and becoming frighteningly real — burnt bodies strewn about an icy landscape, the crackle of flames reddening the snow and a jangling sound that was cruel in its intensity. When I got back to Mac’s cabin I was pretty washed-up.

He was concerned about me. ‘Sorry to have put this on you, son,’ he said. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.’

‘You did right,’ I said heavily. ‘It’s tough on me, Mac, but I can stand it. You know, it comes as quite a shock to discover you have a choice of pasts.’

‘I was a fool,’ Mac said bluntly. ‘Ten minutes’ thought and ten cents’ worth of understanding and I’d have known better. I’ve been kicking myself ever since I opened my big mouth.’

‘Forget it,’ I said.

‘But you won’t, though.’ He was silent for a while. ‘If you pulled out now and forgot the whole thing I wouldn’t think any the worse of you for it, boy. There’d be no recriminations from me — not like last time.’

‘I won’t do that,’ I said. ‘Too much has happened. Old Matterson has tried to scare me off, for one thing, and I don’t push easy. There are other reasons, too.’

He looked at me with a shrewd eye. ‘You haven’t finished thinking about this yet. Why don’t you give Clare’s land the once-over, like you promised. You need more time.’

He wasn’t fitted to the role of Cupid, but he meant well and it really wasn’t a bad idea, so a couple of days later I left for the North Kinoxi in the jeep. The road hadn’t got any better since my last trip, and I was more tired when the big cabin came in sight than if I’d walked all the way.

Waystrand came to meet me with his stiff, slow walk, and I asked, ‘Is Miss Trinavant around, Mr Waystrand?’

‘Walking in the woods,’ he said briefly. ‘You staying?’

‘For a while,’ I said. ‘Miss Trinavant wants me to do a survey.’ He nodded but said nothing. ‘I haven’t seen your son yet, so I haven’t been able to pass on your message.’

He shrugged heavily. ‘Wouldn’t make any difference, I suppose. You eaten?’

I shared some food with him and then did some more log-chopping while he looked on with approval at my improved handling of the axe. When I began to sweat I stripped off my shirt, and after a while he said, ‘Don’t want to be nosy, but was you chawed by a bear?’

I looked down at the cicatrices and shiny skin on my chest. ‘More like a Stutz Bearcat,’ I said. ‘I was in an auto accident.’

‘Oh,’ was all he vouchsafed, but a puzzled frown came on to his face. Presently he went away and I continued chopping.

Clare came back from the woods towards sunset and appeared glad to see me. She wanted to know if the Mattersons had made any moves, but merely nodded when I said that no move had been made by either side.

We had dinner in the big cabin, during which she asked me about the survey, so after dinner I got out the Government map and indicated what I was going to do and how I was going to go about it. She said, ‘Is there much chance of finding anything?’

‘Not much, I’m afraid — not from what I saw of the Matterson land in the south. Still, there’s always a chance; strikes have been made in the most unlikely places.’ I talked about that for quite a while and then drifted into reminiscences of the North-West Territories.

Suddenly Clare said, ‘Why don’t you go back, Bob? Why don’t you leave Fort Farrell? It’s not doing you any good.’

‘You’re the third person who has asked me to quit,’ I said. ‘Matterson, McDougall and now you.’

‘My reasons might be the same as Mac’s,’ she said. ‘But don’t couple me with Matterson.’

‘I know, Clare,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. But I’m not going to quit.’

She knew finality when she heard it and didn’t press it any more. Instead, she said, ‘Can I come with you when you do the survey?’

‘Why not? It’s your land,’ I said. ‘You can keep a close eye on me so I don’t skip the hard bits.’

We arranged to leave early, but in fact we didn’t get away too soon the following morning. To begin with, I overslept which is something I hardly ever do. For the first time in nearly three weeks I slept soundly without dreaming and awoke refreshed but very late. Clare said she hadn’t the heart to wake me and I didn’t put up too much of a protest. That was why we were delayed long enough for unexpected, and unwelcome, visitors to drop from the sky.

I was in my room when I heard the helicopter and saw it settle lightly in the open space at the back. Howard Matterson and Donner got out and I saw Clare go forward to meet them. The rotor swished to a stop and the pilot dropped to the ground, so it looked as though Matterson intended to stay for longer than a few minutes.

There seemed to be an argument going on. Howard was jabbering nineteen to the dozen, with Donner putting in his two cents’ worth from time to time, while Clare stood with a stony face and answered monosyllabically. Presently Howard waved at the cabin and Clare shrugged. All three of them moved out of sight and I heard them talking in the big main room.

I hesitated, then decided it was none of my business. Clare knew the score about the lumber on her land and I knew she wouldn’t let Howard get away with anything. I continued to fill my pack.

I could hear the rumble of Howard’s voice, with the lighter, colourless interjections of Donner. Clare appeared to be saying little, and I hoped most of it consisted of ‘No.’ Presently there was a tap on the door and she came in. ‘Won’t you join us?’ Her lips were compressed and the pink spots on her cheeks were danger signals I had seen before.

I followed her into the main room and Howard scowled and reddened when he saw me. ‘What’s he doing here?’ he demanded.

‘What’s it to you?’ Clare asked. She indicated Donner. ‘You’ve brought your tame accountant. This is my adviser.’ She turned to me. ‘They’ve doubled their offer,’ she said in an acid voice. ‘They’re offering half a million dollars for the total felling rights on five square miles of my land.’

‘Have you put up a counter-offer?’ I asked.

‘Five million dollars.’

I grinned at her. ‘Be reasonable, Clare: the Mattersons wouldn’t make a profit out of that. Now, I’m not suggesting you split the difference, but I think that if you subtracted their offer from yours there might be a basis for a sale. Four and a half million bucks.’

‘Ridiculous,’ said Donner.

I swung on him. ‘What’s ridiculous about it? You know you’re trying to pull a fast one.’

‘You keep out of this.’ Howard was fuming.

‘I’m here by invitation, Howard,’ I said. ‘Which is more than you are. Sorry to have spoiled your con game, but there it is. You know this land hasn’t been cut over for twelve years and you know the amount of mature timber that’s ready for the taking. Some of those big trees would go nicely in the mill, wouldn’t they? I think it’s a reasonable offer, and my advice to you is to take it or leave it.’

‘By God, we’ll leave it,’ he said tightly. ‘Come on, Donner.’

I laughed. ‘Your father isn’t going to like that. He’ll have your guts for garters, Howard. I doubt if he ever ruined a deal by being too greedy.’

That stopped him. He glanced at Donner, then said, ‘Mind if we have a private conversation?’

‘Go ahead,’ said Clare. ‘There’s plenty of room outside.’

They went out, and Clare said, ‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I’m right, but Howard might be obstinate. I think he’s a man who sets himself on a course and doesn’t deviate. He isn’t flexible, and flexibility is very important to a businessman. I’m afraid he might make a fool of himself.’

‘What do you mean?’

I said, ‘He’s so set on making a killing here that it might blind him to a reasonable deal — and I don’t think Donner can control him. That might bitch things up. Will you leave the dickering to me?’

She smiled. ‘You seem to know what you’re doing.’

‘Maybe. But the biggest deals I’ve made so far have been with used car dealers — I may be out of my league here. I never dickered in millions before.’

‘Neither have I,’ she said. ‘But if what I hear about used car dealers is correct, they’re as tricky to deal with as anyone else. Try to imagine Howard as Clarry Summerskill.’

‘That’s an insult to Clarence,’ I said.

Howard and Donner came back. Howard said heartily, ‘Well, I think we can sort this thing out. I’ll disregard the insults I’ve been offered so far by Boyd and make you a new offer. Clare, I’ll double up again and make it a round million dollars — I can’t say fairer than that.’

She looked at him coldly. ‘Four and a half.’

Donner said in his precise voice, ‘You’re being too rigid, Miss Trinavant.’

‘And you’re being too free and easy,’ I said. I grinned at Howard. ‘I have a proposition. Let’s get Tanner, the Forestry Service man, up here to do an independent valuation. I’m sure Clare will abide by his figure if you will.’

I hadn’t any fear that Matterson would go for that, and he didn’t. His voice sounded like the breaking of ice-floes. ‘There’s no need to waste time on fooleries. The dam is nearly finished — we close the sluices in two weeks. In less than four months this land will be flooded and we have to get the lumber out before then. That’s cutting things very fine and it’ll take every man I’ve got to do it in time — even if we start now.’

‘So make a deal now,’ I said. ‘Come up with a sensible offer.’

He gave me a look of intense dislike. ‘Can’t we be reasonable, Clare?’ he pleaded. ‘Can’t we talk without this character butting in?’

‘I think Bob’s doing all right,’ she said.

Donner said quickly, ‘A million and a half.’

‘Four and a half,’ said Clare stolidly.

Howard made a noise expressive of disgust, and Donner said, ‘We keep coming up, Miss Trinavant, but you make no effort to meet us.’

‘That’s because I know the value of what I’ve got.’

I said, ‘All right, Donner; we’ll come down to meet you. Let’s say four and a quarter. What’s your counter-offer?’

‘For Christ’s sake!’ said Howard. ‘Has he the right to negotiate on your behalf, Clare?’

She looked him in the eye. ‘Yes.’

‘To hell with that,’ he said. ‘I’m not dealing with a brokendown geologist who hasn’t two cents to rub together.’

‘Then the deal’s off,’ she said, and stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do.’ I never admired her more than I did then; she was putting all her faith in the negotiating ability of a man she hardly knew. But it sure made me sweat.

Donner cut in quickly, ‘Let’s not be hasty.’ He nudged Howard. ‘Something can be worked out here. You asked me for my counter-offer, Boyd. Here it is: two million dollars flat — and not a cent more.’

Donner appeared quite calm but Howard was ready to go off pop. He had come here expecting to get a five-milliondollar property for a mere half-million, and now it was his turn to be squeezed he didn’t like it one little bit. But for a moment I wondered if I was making a mistake. My estimate was on my own assessment — which could be wrong because I wasn’t a lumberman — and on the word of old Waystrand, a man who did chores around the house.

I felt sweat trickling down my back as I said, ‘Nothing doing.’

Howard exploded. ‘All right,’ he shouted. ‘That’s an end to it. Let’s get the hell out of here, Donner. You’ve a fool for an adviser, Clare. Boyd couldn’t advise a man lost in the desert how to take a drink of water. If you want to take up our final offer, you know where to find me.’

He started to walk out. I glanced at Donner, who obviously didn’t want to leave, and I knew I was right, after all. Donner was ready to carry on wheeling and dealing, so therefore he was ready to make another offer; but he’d lost control of Howard as I knew he would. Howard, lost in his rage, wouldn’t let him continue, and what I had been afraid of was about to happen.

I said, ‘Now is the time to separate the men from the boys. Get old Waystrand in here, Clare.’

She looked at me in surprise, but obediently went outside and 1 heard her calling for him. Howard also stopped and looked at me uncertainly, fidgeting on one leg; and Donner eyed me speculatively.

Clare came back, and I said, ‘I warned you, Howard, that your old man wouldn’t like this. If you pass up a good deal in which you can make a damned good profit I don’t think he’ll let you stay as boss of the Matterson Corporation. What do you say, Donner?’

Donner smiled thinly. ‘What would you expect me to say?’

I said to Clare, ‘Get pen and paper. Write a formal letter to Bull Matterson offering him the felling rights for four and a quarter million. He’ll beat you down to four and still make a cool million bucks profit. And tell him you’d rather deal with a man, not a boy. Waystrand can take the letter today.’

Clare went to the writing-desk and sat down. I thought Howard was going to take a swing at me but Donner tugged at his coat and drew him back. They both retreated and Donner whispered urgently. I had a good idea of what he was saying, too. If that letter was ever delivered to old Bull it would be an admission on Howard’s part that he’d fallen down on a big job. Already, from what I had seen, the old man held him in contempt and had even given him Donner as a nursemaid. Bull Matterson would never forgive his son for putting a million dollars in jeopardy.

Waystrand came in and Clare looked up. ‘I want you to take a letter into Fort Farrell, Matthew.’

The whispering across the room rose to a sibilant crescendo and finally Howard shrugged. Donner said urgently, ‘Wait a minute, Miss Trinavant.’ He addressed me directly and there was no suggestion that I was not empowered to negotiate. ‘Did you mean that, Boyd — that you’d take four million dollars?’

‘Miss Trinavant will,’ I said.

His lips tightened momentarily. ‘All right. I’m empowered to agree.’ He took a contract form from his pocket. ‘All we need to do is to fill in the amount and get Miss Trinavant’s witnessed signature.’

‘I don’t sign anything before my lawyer checks it,’ she said coolly. ‘You’ll have to wait on that.’

Donner nodded. He didn’t expect anything else; he was a legalist himself and that was the way his own mind worked. ‘As soon as possible, please.’ He pulled out a pen and filled in a blank space in the middle of the contract, then pushed the pen into Howard’s hand. Howard hesitated, and Donner said drily, ‘Sign — you’d better.’

Howard’s lips tightened, then he dashed off his signature. He straightened up and pointed a trembling finger at me. ‘Watch it, Boyd — just watch it, that’s all. You’ll never do this to me again — ever.’

I smiled. ‘If it’s any consolation, Howard, you never had a chance. We had you whipsawed from the beginning. First, we knew exactly what we had, and, second, I had quite a job talking Clare round into selling; she didn’t care if she sold or not, and that’s a hell of a bargaining advantage. But you wanted it — you had to have it. Your old man would never let you pass it up.’

Donner said, ‘You all see that I witness Mr Matterson’s signature.’ He signed the contract and dropped it on the table. ‘I think that’s all.’

Howard swung on his heel and left without another word, and Donner followed him. Clare slowly tore into fragments the letter she had written, and looked up at Waystrand. ‘You won’t have to go into Fort Farrell after all, Matthew.’

Waystrand shuffled his feet and cracked a slow grin. ‘Looks like you’re being looked after all right, Miss Clare.’ He gave me a friendly nod and left.

My legs felt weak so I sat down. Clare said practically, ‘You look as though you need a drink.’ She went over to the cabinet and brought back a slug of Scotch big enough to kill an elephant. ‘Thanks, Bob.’

‘I never thought we’d do it,’ I said. ‘I thought I was going to blow the whole thing. When Howard started to leave...’ I shook my head.

‘You blackmailed him,’ she said. ‘He’s scared to death of his father and you used that to blackmail him.’

‘He had it coming — he tried to give you a hell of a raw deal. Old Bull will never know it, though; and he’ll be happy with his million bucks.’ I looked up at her. ‘What are you going to do with your four million?’

She laughed. ‘I’ll be able to organize my own digs now — I’ve never been able to afford it before. But first I want to take care of you. I didn’t like Howard’s crack about a broken-down geologist.’

‘Hey!’ I said. ‘I didn’t do that much.’

‘You did more than I could have done. I couldn’t have faced Howard down like that. I’d hate to play poker with you, Bob Boyd. You certainly deserve a negotiator’s fee.’

I hadn’t thought about that. Clare said, ‘Let’s be businesslike about it — you did the job and you get the pay. What about twenty per cent?’

‘For God’s sake, that’s too much.’ I saw the glint in her eye. ‘Ten per cent.’

‘We’ll split the difference,’ she said. ‘Fifteen per cent — and you’ll take it.’

I took a mouthful of whisky and nearly choked as I realized I had just made myself $600,000.

II

As I have said, we started off late that morning and didn’t get far before we stopped for a bite to eat. The way Clare made a fire, I saw she knew her way around the woods — it was just big enough for its purpose and no bigger, and there was no danger of setting the woods alight. I said, ‘How come Waystrand works for you?’

‘Matthew? He worked for Uncle John. He was a good logger but he had an accident.’

‘He told me about that,’ I said.

‘He’s had a lot of grief,’ said Clare. ‘His wife died just about the same time; it was cancer, I think. Anyway, he had the boy to bring up, so Uncle John asked him if he’d like to work around the house — the house in Lakeside. He couldn’t work as a logger any more, you see.’

I nodded. ‘And you took him over, more or less?’

‘That’s right. He looks after the cabin while I’m away.’ She frowned. ‘I’m sorry about young Jimmy, though; he’s gone wild. He and his father had a dreadful quarrel about something, and Jimmy went to work for the Matterson Corporation.’

I said, ‘I think that’s what the quarrel was about. The job was a pay-off to Jimmy for blowing the gaff about me to Howard.’

She coloured. ‘You mean about that night in the cabin?’

I said, ‘I owe Jimmy something for that — and for something else.’ I told her of the wild ride down the Kinoxi road sandwiched between the logging trucks.

‘You could have been killed!’ she said.

‘True, but it would have been written off as an accident.’ I grinned. ‘Old Bull paid up like a gentleman, though. I’ve got a jeep now.’

I got out the geological maps of the area and explained what I was going to do. She cottoned on fast, and said, ‘It’s not so different from figuring out where to dig for archaeological remains; it’s just that the signs are different.’

I nodded in agreement. ‘This area is called the Rocky Mountain Trench. It’s a geological fault caused by large-scale continental movement. It doesn’t move so as you’d notice, though; it’s one of these long-term things. Anyway, in a trench things tend to get churned to the surface and we may find something, even though there was nothing on the Matterson land. I think we’ll go right to the head of the valley.’

It wasn’t far, not more than ten miles, but we were bushed by the time we got there. I hadn’t found anything on the way but I didn’t expect to; we had struck in pretty much of a direct line and would do the main exploration going downhill on the way back, zig-zagging from one side of the valley to the other. It’s easier that way.

By the time we made camp it was dark. There was no moon and the only light came from the fire which crackled cheerily and shed a pleasant glow. Beyond the fire was a big black nothing away down the valley which I knew was an ocean of trees — Douglas fir, spruce, hemlock, western red cedar — all commercially valuable. I said, ‘How much land have you got here?’

‘Nearly ten thousand acres,’ said Clare. ‘Uncle John left it to me.’

‘It might pay you to set up your own small sawmill,’ I said. ‘You have a lot of ripe timber here which needs cutting out.’

‘I’d have to haul out the lumber across Matterson land,’ she said. ‘It’s not economical to go the long way round. I’ll think about it.’

I let her attend to the cooking while I cut spruce boughs for the beds, one on each side of the fire. She ministered to the fire and the pans deftly with hardly a waste movement, and I could see I couldn’t teach her anything about that department. Soon the savoury scent of hash floated up and she called, ‘Come and get it.’

As she gave me a plateful of hash she smiled. ‘Not as good as the duck you served me.’

‘This is fine,’ I said. ‘Maybe we’ll get some fresh meat tomorrow, though.’

We ate and talked quietly, and had coffee. Clare felt in her pack and produced a flask. ‘Like a drink?’

I hesitated. I wasn’t used to drinking when out in the woods; not out of any high principles, but the amount of liquor you can hump in a pack doesn’t go very far, so I never bothered to carry any at all. Still, on a day when a guy can make $600,000 anything can happen, so I said, ‘One jigger would go down well.’

It was a nice night. Even in summer you don’t get many warm nights in the North-East Interior of British Columbia, but this was one of them — a soft and balmy night with the stars veiled in a haze of cloud. I sipped the whisky, and what with the smell of the wood-smoke and the peaty taste of the Scotch on my tongue I felt relaxed and at ease. Maybe the fact that I had a girl next to me had something to do with it, too; you don’t meet many of those in the places I’d been accustomed to camping and when you did they had flat noses, broad cheekbones, blackened teeth and stank of rancid oil — delightful to other Eskimos but no attraction to me.

I undid a button of my shirt to let the air circulate, and stretched my legs. ‘I wouldn’t have any other life than this,’ I said.

‘You can do anything you want now,’ said Clare.

‘Say, that’s so, isn’t it?’ I hadn’t thought much about the money; it hadn’t yet sunk in that I was pretty rich.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

I said dreamily, ‘I know of a place just north of the Great Slave Lake where a man with a bit of dough — enough to finance a real exploration — would have a chance of striking it rich. It really needs a magnetometer survey and for that you need a plane, or better, a whirlybird — that’s where the money comes in.’

‘But you are rich,’ she pointed out. ‘Or you will be as soon as the deal goes through. You’ll have more than I inherited from Uncle John, and I never thought I was particularly poor.’

I looked at her. ‘I said just now I wouldn’t want any other life. You have your archaeology — I have my geology. And you know damn’ well we don’t do those things just to pass the time.’

She smiled. ‘I guess you’re right.’ She peered at me closely. ‘That scar — there, on your chest. Is that...?’

‘The accident? Yes, it is. They don’t trouble much with plastic surgery where it doesn’t usually show.’

She put her hand out slowly and touched my chest with her fingertips. I said, ‘Clare, you knew Frank Trinavant. I know I haven’t his face, but if I am Frank, then surely to God there must be something of him left in me. Can’t you see anything of him?’

Her face was troubled. ‘I don’t know,’ she said hesitatingly. ‘It was so long ago and I was so young. I left Canada when I was sixteen and Frank was twenty-two; he treated me as a kid sister and I never really knew him.’ She shook her head and said again, ‘I don’t know.’

Her fingertips traced the long length of the scar, and I put my arm round her shoulders and pulled her closer. I said, ‘Don’t worry about it; it doesn’t really matter.’

She smiled and whispered, ‘You’re so right. It doesn’t matter — it doesn’t matter at all. I don’t care who you are or where you come from. All I know is that you’re Bob Boyd.’

Then we were kissing frantically and her arm was about me under my shirt and drawing me closer. There was a hiss and a sudden wooof as half a jigger of good Scotch got knocked into the fire, and a great yellow and blue flame soared to the sky.

Later that night I said drowsily, ‘You’re a hard woman — you made me gather twice as many spruce boughs as we needed.’

She punched me in the ribs and snuggled closer. ‘You know what?’ she said pensively.

‘What?’

‘You remember when you slept in the cabin that time — when I warned you about making passes?’

‘Mmm — I remember.’

‘I had to warn you off. If I hadn’t I’d have been a gone girl.’

I opened one eye. ‘You would!’

‘Even then,’ she said. ‘I still feel weak and mushy about it. Do you know you’re quite a man, Bob Boyd? Maybe too much for me to handle. You’d better not radiate maleness so much around other women from now on.’

I said, ‘Don’t be silly.’

‘I mean it.’

A few minutes later she said, ‘Are you awake?’

‘Uh-uh.’

‘You won’t think I’m silly if I tell you something?’

‘Depends what it is.’

There was a silence, then she said, ‘You earned that negotiator’s fee, you know — and never forget it. I was glad you earned it for another reason.’

I said sleepily, ‘What reason?’

‘You’re too goddam proud,’ she said. ‘You might never have done anything about me if you’d thought about it too much. I thought you’d be scared off by my money, but now you have money, and it doesn’t apply.’

‘Nonsense!’ I said. ‘What’s a mere six hundred thousand bucks? I want the lot.’ I pulled her closer. ‘I want everything you’ve got.’

She gave a small cry and came to me again. Finally, just as the false dawn hesitated in the sky, she went to sleep, her head on my shoulder and one arm thrown across my chest.

III

The survey that should have taken four days stretched to two weeks. Maybe we were taking the honeymoon before we were married, but, then, so have lots of other folks — it’s not the worst crime in the world. All I know is that it was the happiest time of my life.

We talked — my God, how we talked! For two people to really get to know each other takes a hell of a lot of words, in spite of the fact that the most important thing doesn’t need words at all. By the time two weeks were up I knew a lot about archaeology I didn’t know before and she knew enough geology to know that the survey was a bust.

But neither of us worried about that. Three of the days towards the end were spent near a tiny lake we discovered hidden away in the folds of the hills. We pitched our camp near the edge and swam every morning and afternoon without worrying about costumes, and rubbed each other warm and dry when we came out shivering. At nights, in the hush of the forest, we talked in low tones, mostly about ourselves and about what we were going to do with the rest of our lives. Then we would make love.

But everything ends. One morning she said thoughtfully, ‘Matthew must be just about ready to send out a search-party. Do you realize how long we’ve been gone?’

I grinned. ‘Matthew has more sense. I think he’s got around to trusting me.’ I rubbed my chin. ‘Still, we’d better get back, I suppose.’

‘Yes,’ she said glumly.

We cleaned up the camp and packed our gear in silence. I helped her on with her pack, then said, ‘Clare, you know we can’t get married right away?’

Her voice was soft with surprise, ‘Why ever not?’

I kicked at a stone. ‘It wouldn’t be fair. If I marry you and stay around here, things are going to bust loose and you might be hurt. If they’re going to bust at all I want it to be before we’re married.’

She opened her mouth to argue — she was a great arguer — but I stopped her. ‘Susskind might be right,’ I said. ‘If I probe too deeply into my past I might very well go nuts. I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.’

She was silent for a while, then she said, ‘Supposing I accept that — what do you intend to do?’

‘I’m going to break this thing wide open — before we’re married. I’ve got something to fight for now, besides myself. If I come through the other side safely, then we’ll get married. If not — well, neither of us will have made an irrevocable mistake.’

She said calmly, ‘You’re the sanest man I know — I’m willing to take a chance on your sanity.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ I said. ‘You don’t know what it’s like, Clare: not having a past — or having two pasts, for that matter. It eats a man away from the inside. I’ve got to know, and I’ve got to take the chance of knowing. Susskind said it might break me in two and I don’t want you too much involved.’

‘But I am too involved,’ she cried. ‘Already I am.’

‘Not as much as if we were married. Look, if we were married I’d hesitate when it’s fatal to hesitate, I wouldn’t push hard when pushing might win, I’d not take a chance when it was necessary to take a chance. I’d be thinking of you too damn’ much. Give me a month, Clare; just one month.’

Her voice was low. ‘All right, a month,’ she said. ‘Just one month.’

We reached her cabin late at night, weary and out-of-sorts, neither of us having said much to the other during the day. Matthew Waystrand met us, smiled at Clare and gave me a hard look. ‘Got the fire lit,’ he said gruffly.

I went into my bedroom and shucked off my pack with relief, and when I’d changed into a fresh shirt and pants Clare was already luxuriating in a hot bath. I walked over to Matthew’s place and found him smoking before a fire. I said, ‘I’m going pretty soon. Look after Miss Trinavant.’

He looked at me glumly. ‘Think she needs it more’n usual?’

‘She might,’ I said, and sat down. ‘Did you mail that letter she gave you?’ I meant the Matterson contract going to her lawyer in Vancouver.

He nodded. ‘Got an answer, too.’ He cocked his head. ‘She’s got it.’

‘Good.’ I waited for him to say something else and when he didn’t I stood up and said, ‘I’m going now. I have to get back to Fort Farrell.’

‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said. You wanted to know if anything unusual happened about the time old John was killed. Well, I remember something, but I don’t know if you’d call it unusual.’

‘What was that?’

‘Old Bull bought himself a new car just the week after. It was a Buick.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t call it unusual.’

Waystrand said, ‘Funny thing is that it was a replacement for a car he already had — a car he’d had just three months.’

‘Now that is funny,’ I said softly. ‘What was wrong with the old one?’

‘Don’t know,’ said Waystrand laconically. ‘But I hardly know what could have gone wrong in three months.’

‘What happened to it?’

‘Don’t know that, either. Just disappeared.’

I thought about it. It would be a devil of a job trying to find out what had happened to a car twelve years earlier, especially a car that had ‘just disappeared’. It didn’t seem as though there would be much hope in following up such a tenuous lead as that, although who could tell? It might be worth a check in the licensing office. I said, ‘Thanks, Matthew — you don’t mind me calling you Matthew?’

He frowned. ‘You took a long time on that survey of yours. How’s Miss Trinavant?’

I grinned. ‘Never better — she assured me herself. Why don’t you ask her?’

He grunted. ‘I don’t reckon I will. Yeah, I don’t mind you calling me by my given name. That’s what it’s for, ain’t it?’

IV

I left early next morning just after daybreak. I suppose you couldn’t have called the few words Clare and I had an argument, but it left a certain amount of tension. She thought I was wrong and she wanted to get married right away, and I thought otherwise, and we had sulked like a couple of kids. Anyway, the tension dissolved in her bed that night; we were getting to be like a regular married couple.

We discussed the Matterson contract which her lawyer had thought not too larcenous, and she signed it and gave it to me. I was to drop it in to Howard’s office and get a duplicate signed by him. Just before I left, she said, ‘Don’t stick your neck out too far, Bob. Old Bull wields a mean axe.’

I reassured her and bumped up the track in the jeep and made Fort Farrell by late morning. McDougall was pottering about his cabin, and looked at me with a knowing eye. ‘You look pretty bushy-tailed,’ he said. ‘Made your fortune yet?’

‘Just about,’ I said, and told him what had happened with Howard and Donner.

I thought he’d go into convulsions. He gasped and chortled and stamped his foot, and finally burst out with: ‘You mean you made six hundred thousand bucks just for insulting Howard Matterson? Where’s my coat? I’m going down to the Matterson Building right away.’

I laughed. ‘You’re dead right.’ I gave him the contract. ‘See that gets to Howard — but don’t part with it until you get a duplicate signed by him. And you’d better check it word for word.’

‘You’re damned right I will,’ said Mac. ‘I wouldn’t trust that bastard as far as I could throw a moose. What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going up to the dam,’ I said. ‘It seems to worry Howard. What’s been happening up there?’

‘The dam itself is just about finished; they closed the sluices a couple of days ago and the lake has started to fill up.’ He chuckled. ‘They’ve had trouble bringing the generator armatures in; those things are big and heavy and they didn’t find them too easy to manage. Got stuck in the mud right outside the powerhouse, so I hear.’

‘I’ll have a look,’ I said. ‘Mac, when you’re in town I want you to do something. I want you to spread the word that I’m the guy who survived the accident which killed the Trinavants.’

He chuckled. ‘I get it — you’re putting the pressure on. Okay, I’ll spread the word. Everybody in Fort Farrell will know you are Grant by sundown.’

‘No,’ I said sharply. ‘You mention no names. Just say that I’m the guy who survived the accident, nothing more.’ He looked at me in bewilderment, so I said, ‘Mac, I don’t know if I’m Grant and I don’t know if I’m Frank Trinavant. Now, Bull Matterson may think I’m Grant, but I want to keep the options open. There may come a time when I have to surprise him.’

‘That’s tricky,’ said Mac admiringly. He eyed me shrewdly. ‘So you made up your mind, son.’

‘Yes, I made up my mind.’

‘Good,’ he said heartily. As an apparent afterthought, he said, ‘How’s Clare?’

‘She’s fine.’

‘You must have given her place a good going-over.’

‘I did,’ I said smoothly. ‘I made absolutely sure there’s nothing there worth the digging. Took two whole weeks on the job.’

I could see he was going to pursue the subject a little further so I backed out. ‘I’m going up the dam,’ I said. ‘See you tonight — and do exactly what I said.’ I climbed into the jeep and left him to mull it over.

Mac had been right when he said the Matterson Corporation was having trouble with the generators. This was not a big hydro-electric scheme like the Peace River Project at Portage Mountain, but it was big enough to have generators that were mighty hard to handle when transporting them on country roads. They had been shipped up from the States and had got to the railhead quite easily, but from then on they must have been troublesome.

I nearly burst out laughing when I drove past the powerhouse at the bottom of the escarpment. A big logging truck loaded with an armature was bogged down in the mud, surrounded by a sweating, swearing gang shouting fit to bust a gut. Another gang was laying a corduroy road up to the powerhouse — a matter of nearly two hundred yards — and they were up to their knees in an ocean of mud.

I stopped and got out to watch the fun. I didn’t envy those construction men one little bit; it was going to be one hell of a job getting that armature to the powerhouse in an intact condition. I looked into the sky and watched the clouds coming in from the west, from the Pacific, and thought it looked like rain. One good downpour and the trouble would be compounded tenfold.

A jeep came up the road and skidded to a halt in the mud and Jimmy Waystrand got out and stamped over. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

I gestured to the stalled truck. ‘Just watching the fun.’

His face darkened. ‘You’re not welcome round here,’ he said harshly. ‘Beat it!’

‘Have you checked with Bull Matterson lately?’ I asked mildly. ‘Or hasn’t Howard passed the word on?’

‘Oh, hell!’ he said exasperatedly. I could see he was itching to toss me out but he was more afraid of old Bull than he was of me.

I said gently, ‘One wrong move from you, Jimmy, and a court order gets slapped on Bull Matterson. That’ll cost him money and you can bet your last cent — if you’re left with one — that it’ll come out of your pay packet. Your best bet is to get on with your job and get that mess cleaned up before it rains again.’

‘Rains again!’ he said savagely. ‘It hasn’t rained yet.’

‘Oh? Then how come all the mud?’

‘How in hell do I know?’ he said. ‘It just came. It just... He stopped and glared at me. ‘What the hell am I doing chewing the fat with you?’ He turned and went back to his jeep. ‘Remember!’ he shouted. ‘You make no trouble or you get whipped.’

I watched him go, then looked down at the mud interestedly. It looked like ordinary mud. I bent down and took some in my hand and rubbed my fingers together. It felt slimy without any grittiness and was as smooth as soap. It would make a good grade of mud for lubricating an oil drill; maybe Matterson could make a few cents out of bottling and selling it. I tasted it with the tip of my tongue; there was no saltiness, but I didn’t expect to find any because the human tongue is not a very reliable guide.

I watched the men slipping and sliding around for a while, then went to the back of the jeep and picked out two empty test-tubes. I picked my way into the middle of the mess, getting thoroughly dirty in the process, and stooped to fill them full of the greyish, slippery goo. Then I went back to the jeep, put the test-tubes away carefully, and drove on up the escarpment.

There was no mud anywhere on the escarpment nor on the road which climbed it. They were still working on the dam, putting in the final touches, but the sluices were closed and the water was building up behind the concrete wall. Already the scene of desolation which I had grieved over was being covered by a clean sheet of water. Perhaps it was a merciful thing to do, to hide the evidence of greed. The new lake spread shallowly into the distance with the occasional spindly tree, too poor for even Bull Matterson to make a profit on, standing forlornly in the flood. Those trees would die as soon as the roots became waterlogged, and they would fall and rot.

I looked back at the activity at the bottom of the escarpment. The men looked like ants I had seen — a crowd of ants trying to drag along the corpse of a big beetle they had found. But they weren’t having as much success with the trucks as the ants did with the beetle.

I took one of the test-tubes and looked at it thoughtfully, then put it back in its nest of old newspaper. Ten minutes later I was battling it out on the road back to Fort Farrell.

I badly wanted to use a microscope.