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Updated: June 24, 2025
And he, Big Jim Torrance, had made the transcontinental possible where others had failed. It irritated him that his audience was so small. Tressa's confidence was no new thing; she had always believed in him no more now than before. Conrad still clung to his megrims phantom fears that had all but faded from Torrance's mind.
Many had retired, some to nurse their wounds, others not yet blind enough to custom to ignore authority. Those who remained knew what they were doing. Murder was in their eyes. Through a temporary opening in his own group Conrad caught Torrance's eye, anxious and a little uncertain. The foreman made a peremptory movement of his head urging retreat for Torrance.
He knew he was dreaming again, that haunting grief for his dead half breed friend had mastered him at last in a moment of excitement. A cry of alarm from Torrance's room, and a succession of rifle shots, brought him to his senses. He hastened to investigate. Torrance had seen several men running across the grade. One dark lump on the ground gave proof.
The indifference she had felt prior to meeting the efficiency expert was altered now to a feeling of keen interest as she realized that she held the power to relieve Bince of the further embarrassment of the man's activities in the plant, and also to save her father from the annoyance and losses that Bince had assured her would result from Torrance's methods.
Of Tressa he had so many glowing things to write in his letters to his wife that Helen threatened to rush north in self-defence. Thereupon he crammed one letter from start to finish with Tressa Torrance's praises, and defied Helen to fulfil her threat. In the course of his work the solitary part that intrigued him was the mystery of the Indian.
If one of them could get away for a rifle! At that instant he ducked to avoid a side attack, and Torrance saw the blood on his neck. With a bellow the contractor charged through. "Back to back!" he shouted, and lashed out sideways with one foot at a fresh onset against the tiring foreman. Conrad smiled. He was feeling the strain had been for minutes but Torrance's arrival lent him fresh strength.
And the trestle was just ready for the final touches! That the incident increased the difficulties of his own position did not enter Conrad's head. Thoughtful eyes moving from father to daughter, his first words betrayed his main anxiety. "Tressa can leave right away for the East." Surprise and indignation were added to the cloud of fury that twisted Torrance's face; he was speechless.
She moved to her spinning-wheel and gave it a turn. 'Ay, she said, 'and whose is the cow? He was not without a genuine curiosity. 'What would you do for any cow in that case? 'And is it Torrance's cow? asked Mistress Betty. 'Och, but I know it's Torrance's cow that ye're speiring for. The young minister was recalled to a sense of his duty. He rose up with brisk dignity.
No reply not even a sound. "You smug-faced redskin! I wonder how much you're mixed in this." "Indian no come more." The voice drifted from far away in the darkness on the trestle. Sergeant Mahon lifted his head like a hound on the scent, then with a perplexed smile re-entered the shack. Tressa Torrance's outlook on life was a comfortable one, born of her own sunny nature.
"Have the men been complaining at all?" he asked. "Recently I have heard a little grumbling," replied Bince. "They haven't taken very kindly to Torrance's changes, and I guess some of them are afraid they are going to lose their jobs, as they know he is cutting down the force in order to cut costs." "He ought to know about this," said Compton.
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