She had written in her last letter--Bruce knew them all by heart-I had a visitor yesterday. You will be as surprised, when I tell you who it was, as I was to see him. Have you guessed? I'm sure you haven't. None other than our friend Sprudell--very apologetic--very humble and contrite, and with an explanation to offer for his behavior that was really most ingenious. There's no denying he has cleverness of a kind--craft, perhaps, is a better word.
His humility was touching but so unlike him that I should have been alarmed if he had not been so obviously sincere.
Nevertheless his visit has upset me. I've been worried ever since. Perhaps you'll only laugh at me when I tell you that it is because I am afraid for you. Truly I am! I don't know that I can explain exactly so you'll understand but there was something disturbing which I felt when he spoke quite casually of you. It was almost too intangible to put into words but it was like a gloating secret satisfaction, as though he had the best of you in some way, the whip-hand.
It may be just a silly notion, one of those fears that pop into one's head in the most inexplicable way and stick, refusing to be driven out by any amount of logic. Tell me, is there anything that he can do to you? Any way that he can harm you?
I am nervous--anxious--and I cannot help it.
She was anxious about him! That fact was paramount. Somebody in the world was worrying over him. He stopped short in the trail with fresh wonder of it. Every time he thought of it, it gave him a thrill. His face, that had been set in tired, harsh lines of late, softened with a smile of happiness.
And he did so long to give her substantial evidence of his gratitude. If that machinery ever started--if the scrapers ever got to hauling dirt--her reward, his reward, would come quick. That was one of the compensating features of mining; if the returns came at all they came quick. Bruce started on, hastening his footsteps until he almost ran.
The electrical genius was driving a nail with a spirit-level when Bruce reached the pump-house and Bruce flared up in quick wrath.
"Stop that, Banule! Isn't there a hammer on this place?"
"Didn't see one handy," Banule replied cheerfully, "took the first thing I could reach."
"It just about keeps one pack-train on the trail supplying you with tools."
"Guess I am a little careless." Banule seemed unruffled by the reproach--because he had heard it so many times before, no doubt.