A Man of Two Countries

								

him and be the making of him."
"He'll not always stay in the Whoop Up Country," Charlie said,
presciently. "I wish I could do something for him," he added. "He'll
make his mark--somehow--somewhere."
"Prophesying, eh?" smiled the doctor. "All right; we'll see."
The light-draft, flat-bottomed Far West made slow progress. The dead
and broken snags, the "sawyers" of river parlance, fast in the
sand-bars, seemed waiting to impale the steamboat. The lead-man called
unceasingly from his position. One bluff yielded to another, a flat
succeeded to a grove where wild roses burst into riotous bloom, and over
all lay the enchantment of the gay, palpitant, young summer.
The journey was monotonous until, with a bend of the river, they sighted
another steamer, the Fontenelle, stuck fast on Spread Eagle Bar--the
worst bar of the Missouri. Among the passengers at the rail Philip
Danvers saw--could it be? a woman--a white woman, young and beautiful.
What could be her mission in that far country which seemed so vast to
the young Englishman that each day's journey put years of civilization
behind him?
The girl on the Fontenelle was evidently enjoying the situation, and
Danvers discovered at once that she was holding court on her own boat as
well as commanding tribute from the Far West. The men about him stared
eagerly at the slender, imperious figure, while Burroughs procured a
glass from the mate and feasted his eyes.
"I'm goin' to see her at closer range," he declared, and soon had
persuaded the captain to let him have a rowboat.
Philip and Latimer, by this time good friends, watched the trader go on
board and disappear into the cabin.
"The nerve of that man amazes me!" declared Latimer. "What can he be
thinking of?"
"Of the girl, and the first chance at Fort Benton!" answered the doctor,
who joined the two in time to catch the remark. "If you'd known Bob
Burroughs as long as I have at Fort Benton, you wouldn't be surprised at
anything. He's determined to win, wherever you put him, and he'll make
money easy enough."
"But his eagerness and offensiveness----" began Danvers.
"It isn't so much ignorance," explained the doctor, always ready to give
credit wherever due. "He can talk English well enough when he thinks
there is any occasion. He's one of the self-made sort, you know. But he
doesn't estimate men correctly--puts them all a little too low--and
that's where he's going to lose the game."
When Burroughs came back he was met with a fusillade of questions.
"Who is she, Bob?"
"Major Thornhill's daughter, Eva Thornhill."
"Didn't know he had a daughter," quoth Joe. "He never tol' me----"
This created a laugh, as Joe meant it should.
"The major hasn't been so social since he was stationed at Fort Benton,
as to tell us his family affairs," reminded Charlie.
"Bob's thinkin' o' that girl," surmised the mate, openly, as Burroughs