The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rapids, by Alan Sullivan

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Title: The Rapids

Author: Alan Sullivan

Release Date: June 13, 2008 [EBook #25774]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RAPIDS ***

Produced by Al Haines

THE RAPIDS

BY

ALAN SULLIVAN

AUTHOR OF "THE INNER DOOR," ETC.

THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED

TORONTO

Copyright, Canada, 1922, by

THE COPP CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED

TORONTO, ONTARIO

The Copp Clark Press

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. CLARK DISCOVERS ARCADIA II. ARCADIA WAKES UP III. PHILADELPHIA HEARS ABOUT ARCADIA IV. PRELIMINARIES IN ST. MARYS V. THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ERA VI. CONCERNING IRON, WOOD AND A GIRL VII. THE BISHOP'S GARDEN PARTY—AND AFTERWARDS VIII. IRON IX. CONCERNING THE APPREHENSION OF CLARK'S DIRECTORS X. CUPIDITY VS. LOYALTY XI. CLARK EXPERIENCES A NEW SENSATION, ALSO HIS DIRECTORS XII. LOVE AND DOUBT XIII. THE VOICE OF THE RAPIDS XIV. AN ANCIENT ARISTOCRAT VISITS THE WORKS XV. CLARK CONVERTS TORONTO XVI. GOLD, ALSO CONCERNING A GIRL XVII. THE GIRL IN THE CANOE XVIII. MATTERS FINANCIAL XIX. THE WEB OF LACHESIS XX. THE CAR OF PROGRESS HALTS XXI. THE CRASH XXII. THE MASTER MIND AT WORK XXIII. CONCERNING THE RIOT XXIV. DESTINY XXV. THE UNCONQUERABLE SPIRIT EPILOGUE

THE RAPIDS

I.—CLARK DISCOVERS ARCADIA

Amongst the few who knew Robert Fisher Clark at all well, for there were not many of them, there was no question as to his beliefs. It was too obvious that his primary faith was in himself. Nor is it known whether, at any time, he gave any thought or study to the character of those with whom, in the course of his remarkably active life, he came into association. Always it appeared that there was laid upon him the responsibility of doing things which did not occur to the ordinary man, and he went about them with such supreme confidence and unremitting enthusiasm that he infused into his followers much of his communicable zeal. It appears now that Clark weighed a man by appraising the degree to which he contributed to the work in hand, and automatically set aside those whom he considered contributed nothing to his object. He was the most unattached personality it is possible to imagine. Whatever passion or reaction he may have experienced was always a matter for him alone, and something that he underwent in the remoteness of an astonishingly exclusive brain. That he experienced them is without doubt, but they were revealed in the intensity of action and the quick resiliency of renewed effort.

It was not known, either, whether he believed in chance, or in those tiny eventualities which so often impress a definite color on subsequent years. The trend of his mind was to move forward rather than back, and it is questionable if he gave much thought to second causes. The fruit dangled before his eye even as he planted the vine, and if this induced in him a certain ruthlessness it could only be because those who are caught up in high endeavor to reach the mountain tops must perforce trample many a lowland flower beneath their eager feet.

And yet it was chance that brought Clark to St. Marys, chance that he should be in a certain train at a given time, and above all it was chance that he should overhear a certain conversation, but it was not by any means chance that he should interpret the latter as he did.

The train was lurching over an uneven track that wound through the woods of western Ontario when, staring thoughtfully out of the window at the tangled bush, he caught from across the aisle the drift of talk that was going on between two strangers.

"And so," said one of them, "the thing went smash for lack of just two things."

"And what were they?"

"Some more money and a good deal more experience."

Clark raised his head ever so slightly. Money and experience—the lack of them had, to his personal knowledge, worked disaster in a wider circle than that of St. Marys. He had heard of the place before, but that was years ago. Presently one of the strangers continued.

"It was after the railway came that the people in St. Marys seemed to wake up. They got in touch with the outside world and began to talk about water power. You see, they had been staring at the rapids for years, but what was the value of power if there was no use to which to put it? Then a contractor dropped in who had horses and tools but no job."

"So that's what started it?"

"Exactly. The idea was small enough to begin with and the town just wanted power for light and water works, so they gave the contractor the job, borrowed a hundred and thirty thousand dollars, and got the necessary land from the Ottawa government. I've an idea that if those rights ever get into experienced hands you'll hear a good deal more of St. Marys than you ever heard before."

"And then?"

"The town went broke on the job. Mind you, they had a corking agreement with the government and a block of land alongside the rapids big enough for a young city. The mistake was they hadn't secured any factory. Also they needed about five times as much money."

The other man smiled reflectively. "The old story over again."

"That's about it. Credit ran out and the work stopped and things began to rust, and now St. Marys has gone to sleep again and does a little farming and trade with the Indians."

"In fact, it's a sort of rural tragedy?"

"Yes. You'll see the half-finished ditch just before we cross the bridge. I'm afraid St. Marys has that kind of a sick feeling that generally knocks the stuffing out of a municipality. Come on, let's have some lunch."

The two disappeared toward the dining car, but Clark did not stir. His eyes, which were gray and keen, still fixed themselves contemplatively on the ragged wilderness. His lips were pressed tight, his jaw slightly thrust out. Water rights—industries—unlimited power—land for an industrial city; all this and much more seemed to hurl itself through his brain. Presently he took a railway folder out of his bag and examined one of those maps which invariably indicate that the railway which has published the folder owns the only direct route between important points and that all other lines meander aimlessly in comparison. He noted, although he already knew it, that St. Marys, Ontario, was just across the river from St. Marys, Michigan; that Lake Superior flung itself down the rapids that roared between, and that to the south the country was fairly well settled—but to the north the wilderness stretched almost unbroken to the sub-arctics.

A quarter of an hour passed when a long whistle announced the approach to the town. At the sound a new light came into