A Damaged Reputation

  Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book wasproduced from scanned images of public domain materialfrom the Google Print project.)

  A DAMAGEDREPUTATION

  BY HAROLD BINDLOSS

  AUTHOR OF "ALTON OF SOMASCO""MISTRESS OF BONAVENTURE" ETC., ETC.

  R. F. FENNO & COMPANY18 EAST 17TH STREET, NEW YORK

  Copyright, 1908, byR. F. FENNO & COMPANY

  CONTENTS.

  CHAPTER I. PAGE Brooke Pauses to Reflect 9

  CHAPTER II. Brooke Takes the Trail 25

  CHAPTER III. The Narrow Way 37

  CHAPTER IV. Saxton Makes an Offer 51

  CHAPTER V. Barbara Renews an Acquaintance 64

  CHAPTER VI. An Arduous Journey 79

  CHAPTER VII. Allonby's Illusion 91

  CHAPTER VIII. A Bold Venture 104

  CHAPTER IX. Devine Makes a Suggestion 121

  CHAPTER X. The Flume Builder 135

  CHAPTER XI. An Embarrassing Position 151

  CHAPTER XII. Brooke is Carried Away 166

  CHAPTER XIII. The Old Love 179

  CHAPTER XIV. Brooke Has Visitors 193

  CHAPTER XV. Saxton Gains His Point 209

  CHAPTER XVI. Barbara's Responsibility 222

  CHAPTER XVII. Brooke Attempts Burglary 236

  CHAPTER XVIII. Brooke Makes a Decision 249

  CHAPTER XIX. Brooke's Bargain 264

  CHAPTER XX. The Bridging of the Canon 278

  CHAPTER XXI. Devine's Offer 293

  CHAPTER XXII. The Unexpected Happens 305

  CHAPTER XXIII. Brooke's Confession 317

  CHAPTER XXIV. Allonby Strikes Silver 334

  CHAPTER XXV. Barbara is Merciless 350

  CHAPTER XXVI. The Jumping of the Canopus 365

  CHAPTER XXVII. The Last Round 381

  CHAPTER XXVIII. Brooke Does Not Come Back 395

  CHAPTER XXIX. A Final Effort 406

  CHAPTER XXX. The Other Chance 419

  CHAPTER XXXI. Brooke is Forgiven 431

  A DAMAGED REPUTATION.

  I.

  BROOKE PAUSES TO REFLECT.

  It was a still, hot night, and the moon hung round and full above thecedars, when rancher Brooke sat in his comfortless shanty with a whiskybottle at his hand. The door stood open, and the drowsy fragrance of theconiferous forest stole into the room, while when he glanced in thatdirection he could see hemlock and cedar, redwood and balsam, tower,great black spires, against the luminous blueness of the night. Farabove them gleamed the untrodden snow that clothed the great peaks withspotless purity; but this was melting fast under the autumn sun, and theriver that swirled by the shanty sang noisily among the boulders.

  There are few more beautiful valleys than that one among all the rangesof British Columbia, but its wild grandeur made little impression uponBrooke that night. He felt that a crisis in his affairs was at hand,and he must face it boldly or go under once for all, for it was borne inupon him that he had already drifted perilously far. His face, however,grew a trifle grim, and his fingers closed irresolutely on the neck ofthe bottle, for drifting was easy in that country, and pleasant, so longas one did not remember.

  Even when the great peaks were rolled in tempest cloud, the snow fellbut lightly among the Quatomac pines. Bright sunlight shone on them forweeks together, and it was but seldom a cold blast whipped the still,blue lake where the shadows of the cedars that distilled ambrosialessences lay asleep. There were deer and blue grouse in the woods,salmon in the river, and big trout in the lake; and the deleteriouswhisky purveyed at the nearest settlement was not inordinately dear. Ithad, however, dawned on Brooke by degrees that there were many things hecould not find at Quatomac which men of his upbringing hold necessary.

  In the meanwhile, his sole comrade, Jimmy, who assisted him to loaf thegreater part of every day away, watched him with a curious little smile.Jimmy was big, loose-limbed, and slouching, but in his own way he waswise, and he had seen more than one young Englishman of Brooke'sdescription take the down-grade in that colony.

  "Feeling kind of low to-night?" he said, suggestively. "Now, I'd havebeen quite lively if Tom Gordon's Bella had made up to me. Bella's niceto look at, and 'most as smart with the axe as a good many men I know.I guess if you got her you wouldn't have anything to do."

  Brooke's bronzed face flushed a trifle as he saw his comrade's grin, forit was what had passed between him and Tom Gordon's Bella at thesettlement that afternoon which had thrust before him the question whathis life was to be. He had also not surmised that Jimmy or anybody elsebeyond themselves had been present at that meeting among the pines.Bella was certainly pretty and wholly untaught, while, though he hadmade no attempts to gain her favor they had not been necessary, sincethe maid had with disconcerting frankness conferred it upon him. Shehad, in fact, made it evident that she considered him her property, andBrooke wondered uneasily how far he had tacitly accepted the position.His irresponsive coolness had proved no deterrent; he could neither bebrutal, nor continually run away; and there were times when he hadalmost resigned himself to the prospect of spending the rest of his lifewith her, though he fancied he realized what the result of that wouldbe. The woman had the waywardness and wildness of the creatures of theforest, and almost as little sensibility, while he was unpleasantlyconscious that he was already sinking fast to her level. With a soullessmate, swayed by primitive instincts and passions, and a little furtherindulgence in bad whisky, it was evident that he might very well sink agood deal further, and Brooke had once had his ideals and aspirations.

  "Jimmy," he said, slowly, "I'm thinking of going away."

  Jimmy shook out his corn-cob pipe, and apparently ruminated. "Well, I'd'most have expected it," he said. "The question is, where you're goingto, and what you're going to do? You don't get your grub for nothingeverywhere, and living's cheap here. It only costs the cartridges, andthe deerhides pay the tea and flour. Besides, you put a pile of dollarsinto this place, didn't you?"

  "Most of six thousand, and I've taken about two hundred out. Of course Iwas a fool."

  Jimmy nodded with a tranquil concurrence which his comrade might nothave been pleased with at another time.

  "Bought it on survey, without looking at it?" he said. "Going to makeyour fortune growing fruit! It's kind of unfortunate that big peachesand California plums don't grow on rocks."

  Brooke sat moodily silent awhile. He had, as his comrade had mentioned,bought the four hundred acres of virgin soil without examining it, whichis not such an especially unusual proceeding on the part ofnewly-arrived young Englishmen, and partly explains why some land-agencycompanies pay big dividends. For twelve months he had toiled with hope,strenuously hewing down the great redwoods which cumbered hispossessions; and expended the rest of his scanty capital in hiringassistance. It was only in the second year that the truth dawned on him,and he commenced to realize that treble the sum he could lay hands uponwould not clear the land, and that in all probability it would grownothing worth marketing then. In the meanwhile something had happenedwhich made it easier for him to accept the inevitable, and losing holdof hope he had made the most of the present and ignored the future. Itwas suf
ficient that the forest and the river fed him during most of theyear, and he could earn a few dollars hewing trails for the Governmentwhen they did not. His aspirations had vanished, and he dwelt, almost,if not quite, content in a state of apathetic resignation which is notwholesome for the educated Englishman.

  It was Jimmy who broke the silence.

  "What was it you done back there in England? I never asked you before,"he said.

  Brooke smiled somewhat drily, for it was not a very unusual question inthat country. "Nothing the police could lay hands on me for. I onlyquarrelled with my bread and butter. I had plenty of it at one time, yousee."

  "That means the folks who gave it you?" said Jimmy.

  "Exactly. It was the evident duty of one of them to leave me hisproperty, and I think he would have done it, only he insisted on metaking a wife he had fixed upon as suitable along with it. There was,however, the difficulty that I had made my own choice in the meanwhile.I believe the old man was right now, though I did not think so then, andwhen we had words on the subject I came out to make a home for the otherwoman here."

  "And you let up after two years of it?"

  "I did," said Brooke, with a trace of bitterness. "The girl, however,did not wait so long. Before I'd been gone half the time she married aricher man."

  Jimmy nodded. "There are women made that way," he said reflectively."Still, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout Bella. Once you showed her whowas to do the bossing--with a nice handy strap--she'd stick to you goodand tight, and 'most scratch the eyes out of any one who said a wordagainst her husband. Still, I figure she's not quite the kind of womanyou would have married in the old country."

  That was very evident, and Brooke sat silent while the memories of hislife in the land he had left crowded upon him. He also recoiled from thebrutality of the one his comrade had pictured him leading with the maidof the bush, though it had seemed less appalling when she stood beforehim, vigorous and comely, a few hours ago. He had, however, made noadvances to her. On that point, at least, his mind was clear, and now herealized clearly what the result of such a match must be. Yet he knewhis own loneliness and the maid's pertinacity, and once more it wasborne in upon him that to stay where he was would mean disaster. Risingabruptly he flung the bottle out into the night, and then, while Jimmystared at him with astonishment and indignation, laughed curiously as heheard it crash against a stone.

  "That's the commencement of the change," he said. "After this I'll pitchevery bottle you bring up from the settlement into the river."

  "Well," said Jimmy, resignedly, "I guess I can bring the whisky upinside of me, and you'd get hurt considerable if you tried slinging meinto the river. The trouble is, however, I'd be seeing panthers all theway up whenever I brought along a little extra, and I'm most scared ofpanthers when they aren't there."

  Brooke laughed again, for, as he had discovered, men take life lightlyin that country, but just then the soft beat of horse hoofs rose fromacross the river, and a cry came out of the darkness.

  "Strangers!" said Jimmy. "Quite a crowd of them. With the river comingdown as she's doing it's a risky ford. We'll have to go across."

  They went, rather more than waist-deep in the snow-water which swirledfrothing about them, for the ford was perilous, with a big black poolclose below; and found a mounted party waiting them on the other side.There was an elderly man who sat very straight in his saddle with hishand on his hip, and Brooke, at least, recognized the bearing of onewho had commanded cavalry in the Old Country. There was also a youngerman, dismounted and smoking a cigarette, two girls on Cayuse ponies, andan Indian, whose appearance suggested inebriation, holding the bridlesof the baggage mules. The men were certainly not ranchers ortimber-right prospectors, but now and then of late a fishing party hadpassed that way into the wilderness.

  "I understand the ford is not very safe, and the Indian has contrived toleave our tents behind," said the older man. "If you can take us across,and find the ladies, at least, shelter of any kind for the night, itwould be a kindness for which I should be glad to make any suitablerecompense."

  Jimmy grinned, for it was evident that the speaker was an insularEnglishman, and quite unacquainted with the customs of that country,wherein no rancher accepts payment for a night's hospitality. Brookehad, however, a certain sense of humor, and touched his big shapelesshat, which is also never done in Western Canada.

  "They can have it, sir," he said. "That is, if they're not veryparticular. Take the lady's bridle, Jimmy. Keep behind him, sir."

  Jimmy did as he was bidden, and Brooke seized the bridle of the Cayusethe other girl rode. The half-tamed beast, however, objected to enteringthe water, and edged away from it, then rose with forehoofs in the airwhile Brooke smote it on the nostrils with his fist. The girl, henoticed, said nothing, and showed no sign of fear, though the rest werehalf-way across before he had an opportunity of doing more than cast aglance at her. Then, as he stood waist-deep in water patting thetrembling beast, he looked up.

  "I hope you're not afraid," he said. "It will be a trifle deeperpresently."

  He stopped with a curious abruptness as she turned her head, and stoodstill with his hand on the bridle a moment or two gazing at her. Shesat, lithe and slim, but very shapely, with the skirt of the loose lighthabit she had gathered in one hand just clear of the sliding foam, andrevealing the little foot in the stirrup. The moon, which hung round andfull behind her shoulder, touched one side of the face beneath the bigwhite hat with silvery light, that emphasized the ivory gleam of thefirm white neck. He could also just catch the sparkle of her eyes in theshadow, and her freshness and daintiness came upon him as a revelation.It was so long since he had seen a girl of the station she evidentlybelonged to. Then she laughed, and it seemed to him that her voice wasin keeping with her appearance, for it reached him through the clamor ofthe river, soft and musical.

  "Oh, no," she said. "What are we stopping for?"

  Brooke, who had seldom been at a loss for a neat rejoinder in England,felt his face grow hot as he smote the pony's neck.

  "I really don't know. I think it was the Cayuse stopped," he said.

  The girl smiled. "One would fancy that the water was a trifle too coldfor even a pony of that kind to be anxious to stay in it."

  They went on with a plunge and a flounder, and twice Brooke came nearbeing swept off his feet, for the pony seemed bent on taking theshortest way to the other bank, which was, as it happened, not quite thesafest one. Still, they came through the river, and Brooke dragged theCayuse up the bank in time to see the rest disappear into the shanty.Then he boldly held up his hand, and felt a curious little thrill runthrough him as he swung his companion down.

  "It was very good of you to come across for us, and I am afraid you mustbe very wet," she said. "This is really a quite inadequate recompense."

  Then she turned and left him with the pony, staring vaguely after her,flushed in face, with a big piece of minted silver in his hand. It wasat least a minute before he slipped it into his pocket with a curiouslittle laugh.

  "This is almost too much, and I don't know what has come over me. Therewas a time when I would have been quite equal to the occasion," hesaid.

  Then he turned away to the stables, where Jimmy, who came in with anarmful of clothing, found him rubbing down the Cayuse with unusualsolicitude, in spite of its attempts to kick him.

  "I guess you'll have to change," he said. "Those things aren't decent,and you can put the deerskin ones on. The old man's a high-tonedEnglishman going camping and fishing, and, by what she said, the youngergirl's struck on frontiersmen. When you get into that jacket you'll lookthe real thing."

  Brooke had no great desire to look like one of the picturesquedesperadoes who are, somewhat erroneously, supposed, in England, towander about the Pacific Slope, but as he mended his own clothes withany convenient piece of flour bag, he saw that his comrade's advice wasgood.

  When he entered the shanty Jimmy had supper ready, but he realized, ashe had never done since
he raised its log walls, the comfortless squalorof the room. The red dust had blown into it, it was littered withdiscarded clothing, lines and traps, and broken boots, while twocandles, which flickered in the draughts, stuck in whisky bottles,furnished uncertain illumination. He had made the unsteady table, andJimmy had made the chairs, but the result was no great credit to eitherof them, while nobody who was not very hungry would have considered themeal his comrade laid out inviting. Still, his guests had evidently nofault to find with it, and during it the girl whose pony he had ledonce or twice glanced covertly at him.

  She saw a tall man with a bronzed face of not unpleasant English type,attired picturesquely in fringed deerskin which had crossed themountains from the prairie. He had grey eyes, and his hair was crispedby the sun; but while he was, she decided, distinctly, personable andstill young, there was something in his expression which puzzled her. Itwas neither diffidence nor embarrassment, and yet there was a suggestionof constraint about him which his comrade was wholly free from. Brooke,on his part, saw a girl with brown eyes and hair who held herself well,and had a faint suggestion of imperiousness about her, and wondered withan uneasiness he was by no means accustomed to what she thought of him,since he felt that the condition of his dwelling must show her theshiftless life he led. Still, he shook off that thought, and others thattroubled him, and played his part as host, talking, with a purpose, onlyof the Canadian bush, until, when the meal was over, Jimmy, who felthimself being left out, turned to the guests.

  "A little whisky would have come in to settle those fried potatoesdown," he said. "I would have offered you some, but my partner hereslung the bottle into the river just before you came."

  There was a trace of a smile in the face of the grey-haired man, but thegirl with the brown eyes looked up sharply, and once more Brooke felthis face grow a trifle hot. Men do not as a rule fling whisky bottlesinto rivers without a cogent reason, especially in Canada, where liquoris scarce. He was, however, both astonished and annoyed at himself thathe should attach the slightest value to this stranger's good opinion.

  Then, when the others seconded Jimmy's suggestion, he took a dingyfiddle from its case, and, although there is little a rancher of thatcountry will not do for the pleasure of a chance guest, wondered why hehad complied so readily. He played French-Canadian dances, as theinhabitants play them, and though only some of them may be classed asmusic, became sensible that there was a curious silence of attention.

  "That violin has a beautiful mellow tone," said the younger girl, whomhe had scarcely noticed. "I am, however, quite aware that there is agood deal in the bowing."

  "It might have!" said Jimmy, who disregarded his comrade's glance."There was once a man came along here who said it would fetch the mostof one thousand dollars. Still, every old Canadian lumberman can playthose things, and you ought to hear him on the one he calls theChopping. Play it for them, and I'll open the door so they can see thenight and hear the river singing."

  The military gentleman stared at him, and even the girl with the browneyes, who was very reposeful, appeared surprised at this flight offancy, which nobody would, from his appearance, have expected of Jimmy.

  "The Chopping? Oh, yes, of course I understand," she said. "This is theplace of all places for it. We have never heard it in suchsurroundings."

  Brooke smiled a little. "I'm afraid it is difficult to get moonlight andmystery out of an American steel first string," he said. "One can't keepit from screaming on the shifting."

  He drew the bow across the strings, and save for the fret of thesnow-fed river which rose and fell in deep undertone, there was acurious silence in the room. The younger girl watched the player withgrave appreciation in her eyes, and a little flush crept into hercompanion's cheek. Perhaps she was thinking of the dollar she had giventhe man who could play the famous nocturne as she had rarely heard itplayed before, and owned what, though she could scarcely believe it tobe a genuine Cremona, was evidently an old Italian fiddle of no meanvalue. There was also silence for at least a minute after he had laiddown the bow, and then Brooke held out the violin to the girl who hadpraised its tone.

  "Would you care to try the instrument?" he said.

  "No," said the girl, with quiet decisiveness. "Not after that, though itis, I think, a better one than I have ever handled."

  "And I fancy I should explain that she is studying under an eminentteacher, who professes himself perfectly satisfied with her progress,"said the man with the grey hair.

  Brooke said nothing. He knew the compliment was sincere enough, but hehad seen the appreciation in the other girl's eyes, and that pleased himmost. Then, as he put away the fiddle the man turned to him again.

  "I am far from satisfied with our Siwash guide," he said. "In fact, I amby no means sure that he knows the country, and as we propose making forthe big lake and camping by it, I should prefer to send him back if youcould recommend us anybody who would take us there."

  Brooke felt a curious little thrill of anticipation, but it was the girlwith the brown eyes he glanced at. She, of course, said nothing, but,though it seemed preposterous, Brooke fancied that she knew what he wasthinking and was not displeased.

  "With your approval I would come myself, sir," he said. "There isnothing just now to keep me at the ranch."

  The other man professed himself pleased, and before Brooke retired tohis couch in the stable the matter was arranged. He did not, however,fall asleep for several hours, which was a distinctly unusual thing withhim, and then the face of the brown-eyed girl followed him into hisdreams. Its reposefulness had impressed him the more because of thehint of strength and pride behind it, and again he saw her sittingfearlessly on the plunging horse in the midst of the river with the moonround and full behind her.