The Gold Trail

Harold Bindloss

The Gold Trail, by Harold Bindloss

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Title: The Gold Trail
Author: Harold Bindloss

Release Date: April 23, 2007 [eBook #21205]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GOLD TRAIL***
E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)

THE GOLD TRAIL
by
HAROLD BINDLOSS
Author of The Cattle Baron's Daughter, The Greater Power, Winston of the Prairie, Etc.

New York Grosset & Dunlap Publishers
Copyright, 1910, by Frederick A. Stokes Company All rights reserved May, 1910

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
BOTTOMLESS SWAMP II. THE PACKER III. THE MODEL IV. IDA'S FIRST ASCENT V. IDA'S CONFIDENCE VI. KINNAIRD STRIKES CAMP VII. GRENFELL'S MINE VIII. IN THE RANGES IX. A FRUITLESS SEARCH X. THE HOTEL-KEEPER XI. IN THE MOONLIGHT XII. THE COPPER-MINE XIII. STIRLING LETS THINGS SLIDE XIV. IDA ASSERTS HER AUTHORITY XV. THE ROCK POOL XVI. ON THE LAKE XVII. SCARTHWAITE-IN-THE-FOREST XVIII. WESTON'S ADVOCATE XIX. ILLUMINATION XX. IDA CLAIMS AN ACQUAINTANCE XXI. THE BR?L��E XXII. GRENFELL GOES ON XXIII. THE LODE XXIV. A QUALIFIED SUCCESS XXV. STIRLING GIVES ADVICE XXVI. THE JUMPERS XXVII. SAUNDERS TAKES PRECAUTIONS XXVIII. WESTON STANDS FAST XXIX. THE FIRE XXX. DEFEAT XXXI. HIGH-GRADE ORE XXXII. GRENFELL'S GIFT

THE GOLD TRAIL
CHAPTER I
BOTTOMLESS SWAMP
It was Construction Foreman Cassidy who gave the place its name when he answered his employer's laconic telegram. Stirling, the great contractor, frequently expressed himself with forcible terseness; but when he flung the message across to his secretary as he sat one morning in his private room in an Ottawa hotel, the latter raised his eyebrows questioningly. He knew his employer in all his moods; and he was not in the least afraid of him. There was, though most of those who did business with him failed to perceive it, a vein of almost extravagant generosity in Stirling's character.
"Well," said the latter, "isn't the thing plain enough?"
The secretary smiled.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Still, I'm not sure they'll send it over the wires in quite that form."
His employer agreed to the modification he suggested, and the message as despatched to Cassidy read simply, "Why are you stopping?"
After that the famous contractor busied himself about other matters until he got the answer, "No bottom to this swamp."
Then his indignation boiled over, as it sometimes did, for Stirling was a thick-necked, red-faced man with a fiery temper and an indomitable will. He had undertaken a good deal of difficult railroad work in western Canada and never yet had been beaten. What was more to the purpose, he had no intention of being beaten now, or even delayed, by a swamp that had no bottom. He had grappled with hard rock and sliding snow, had overcome professional rivals, and had made his influence felt by politicians; and, though he had left middle-age behind, he still retained his full vigor of body and freedom of speech. When he had explained what he thought of Cassidy he turned again to his secretary.
"Arrange for a private car," he said. "I'll go along to-morrow and make them jump."
The secretary, who fancied there would be trouble in the construction camp during the next few days, felt inclined to be sorry for Cassidy as he went out to make the necessary arrangements for his employer's journey west.
Stirling had spent a busy morning when he met his daughter Ida and her friends at lunch. He did not belong to Ottawa. His offices were in Montreal; but as Ottawa is the seat of the government he had visited it at the request of certain railroad potentates and other magnates of political influence. With him he had brought his daughter and three of her English friends, for Ida had desired to show them the capital. He had no great opinion of the man and the two women in question. He said that they made him tired, and sometimes in confidence to his secretary he went rather further than that; but at the same time he was willing to bear with them, if the fact that he did so afforded Ida any pleasure. Ida Stirling was an unusually fortunate young woman, in so far, at least, as that she had only to mention any desire that it was in her father's power to gratify. He was a strenuous man, whose work was his life; subtle where that work was concerned when force, which he preferred, was not advisable, but crudely direct and simple as regards almost everything else.
"I'm going west across the Rockies to-morrow," he said. "We'll have a private car on the Pacific express. You'd better bring these folk along and show them
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