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Updated: May 18, 2025
Kermode, indeed, felt sorry he had suggested it when he left the store and set out for a shack belonging to the widow of a man killed on the line. She was elderly and grim, a strict Methodist from the east, who earned a pittance by mending the workmen's clothes.
Been all round looking for minerals; got fired for it at one or two camps, and never struck anything worth speaking of. It's a point on which he's certainly a crank." It was characteristic of Kermode, Prescott thought, that he should be willing to accompany a man with a craze of the kind. "I'd expected to find them here.
Kermode had been gone a fortnight when Prescott reached the camp and heard from Ferguson and others of his latest exploit. He smiled as he listened to their stories, but that he should find people willing to talk about the man did not surprise him. Kermode was not likely to pass unnoticed: his talents were of a kind that seized attention.
This was comforting, because the line of track ran to the south, and if he could strike that, it would serve as a guide; moreover it confirmed Prescott's conclusion that Kermode, who had evidently found the mineral vein worthless, would hold on toward the sea. He was not the man to haunt familiar ground when a wide, newly opened country lay before him.
There was signs of interest and amusement which suggested that Prescott was on the right track. "Did he call himself Kermode?" one of the men asked. Prescott hesitated. It was possible that some of them had heard of the Jernyngham affair, and he had no wish that they should connect him with it.
"It's likely that you're wrong; but I'm not the first man who has found a righteous cause unprofitable." "That," Ferguson returned gravely, "is in one sense very true." They sat up late, talking; and the next morning Kermode found means of sending Foster's horses back, and then resumed his journey.
Besides, British Columbia was well populated along the Canadian Pacific line, from which many avenues of communication opened up, and there would be a strong probability of his missing Kermode. "Well," he said reluctantly, "perhaps, I had better stop round here in case they keep this track; and my foot's too sore to let me move. Could you put me up for a week or two?
A few minutes later they reached the widow's shack and Kermode waited some time after his companion was admitted. As she did not come out, he concluded that Mrs. Jasper was satisfied and returned to the hotel, where he was freely bantered by the loungers. "That will do, boys," he said at length. "If there's any more of this kind of talk, the man who keeps it up will get badly hurt."
However, I dare say it's something to be thankful for that we're not all made alike." "Kermode's unique," Prescott explained. "I'm of the plodding kind and I find that consequences catch me up. Kermode's different: he plunges into recklessness and the penalty falls on somebody else." "You don't mean by his connivance?" "Never! It's the last thing I meant. Kermode never shirks.
It was very cold and icy draughts crept in, but they were undisturbed until daybreak, when there was a cry outside: "Here's Mitcham wanting to talk to you!" A weary man, white with snow, entered and looked eagerly round the shack. "I've come for those cases," he said, pointing to the pile. "What right have you to them?" Kermode inquired. "What right?" cried the other.
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