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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:01 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:34:01 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/10164-0.txt b/10164-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d2f8395 --- /dev/null +++ b/10164-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4939 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10164 *** + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE + +AND + +OTHER STORIES + +BY + +NELLIE L. McCLUNG + +Copyright, 1912 + +_To the Pioneer Women of the West, who made life tolerable, and even +comfortable, for the others of us; who fed the hungry, advised the +erring, nursed the sick, cheered the dying, comforted the sorrowing, +and performed the last sad rites for the dead; + +The beloved Pioneer Women, old before their time with hard work, +privations, and doing without things, yet in whose hearts there was +always burning the hope of better things to come; + +The godly Pioneer Women, who kept alive the conscience of the +neighborhood, and preserved for us the best traditions of the race; + +To these noble Women of the early days, some of whom we see no more, +for they have entered into their inheritance, this book is respectfully +dedicated by their humble admirer, + +The Author._ + +"_Let me live in a house by the side of the road, and be a friend of +man_." + + + +CONTENTS + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE-- + +CHAPTER + I. The Old Trail + II. The House of Bread + III. The Sailors' Rest + IV. Farm Pupils + V. The Prairie Club-House + VI. The Counter-Irritant + VII. Ladies' Day at the Stopping-House + VIII. Shadows of the Night + IX. His Evil Genius + X. Da's Turn + XI. The Blizzard + XII. When the Day Broke + +THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER + +THE RETURN TICKET + +THE UNGRATEFUL PIGEONS + +YOU NEVER CAN TELL + +A SHORT TALE OF A RABBIT + +THE ELUSIVE VOTE + +THE WAY OF THE WEST + + + + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE + + +CHAPTER I. + +_THE OLD TRAIL._ + +When John Corbett strolled leisurely into the Salvation Army meeting in +old Victoria Hall in Winnipeg that night, so many years ago now, there +may have been some who thought he came to disturb the meeting. + +There did not seem to be any atmospheric reason why Mr. Corbett or +anyone else should be abroad, for it was a drizzling cold November +night, and the streets were muddy, as only Winnipeg streets in the old +days could be--none of your light-minded, fickle-hearted, changeable +mud that is mud to-day and dust to-morrow, but the genuine, original, +brush-defying, soap-and-water-proof, north star, burr mud, blacker than +lampblack, stickier than glue! + +Mr. Corbett did not come to disturb the meeting. His reason for +attending lay in a perfectly legitimate desire to see for himself what +it was all about, he being happily possessed of an open mind. + +Mr. Corbett would do anything once, and if he liked it he would do it +again. In the case of the Salvation Army meeting, he liked it. He liked +the music, and the good fellowship, and the swing and the zip of it +all. More still, he liked the blue-eyed Irish girl who sold _War Crys_ +at the door. When he went in he bought one; when he came out he bought +all she had left. + +The next night Mr. Corbett was again at the meeting. On his way in he +bought all the _War Crys_ the blue-eyed Irish girl had. Every minute he +liked her better, and when the meeting was over and an invitation was +given to the anxious ones to "tarry awhile," Mr. Corbett tarried. When +the other cases had been dismissed Mr. Corbett had a long talk with the +captain in charge. + +Mr. Corbett was a gentleman of private means, though he was accustomed +to explain his manner of making a livelihood, when questioned by +magistrates and other interested persons, by saying he was employed in +a livery stable. When further pressed by these insatiably curious +people as to what his duties in the livery stable were, he always +described his position as that of "chamber maid." Here the magistrates +and other questioners thought that Mr. Corbett was disposed to be +facetious, but he was perfectly sincere, and he had described his work +more accurately than they gave him credit for. It might have been more +illuminative if he had said that in the livery stable of Pacer and +Kelly he did the "upstairs" work. + +It was a small but well appointed room in which Mr. Corbett worked. It +had an unobtrusive narrow stairway leading up to it. The only furniture +it contained was several chairs and a round table with a well-concealed +drawer, which opened with a spring, and held four packs and an assorted +variety of chips! Its one window was well provided with a heavy blind. +Here Mr. Corbett was able to accommodate any or all who felt that they +would like to give Fortune a chance to be kind to them. + +The night after Mr. Corbett had attended the Salvation Army meeting, +his "upstairs" room was as dark inside as it always appeared to be on +the outside. Two anxious ones, whose money was troubling them, had to +be turned away disappointed. Mr. Corbett had left word downstairs that +he was going out. + +After Mr. Corbett had explained the situation to the Salvation Army +captain, the captain took a day to consider. Then Mrs. Murphy, mother +of Maggie Murphy who sold _War Crys_, was consulted. Mrs. Murphy had +long been a soldier in the Army, and she had seen so many brands +plucked from the burning that she was not disposed to discourage Mr. +Corbett in his new desire to "do diff'rent." + +Soon after this Mr. Corbett, in his own words, "pulled his freight" +from the Brunswick Hotel, where he had been a long, steady boarder, and +installed himself in the only vacant room in the Murphy house, having +read the black and white card in the parlor window, which proclaimed +"Furnished Rooms and Table Board," and regarding it as a providential +opportunity for him to see Maggie Murphy in action! + +Having watched Maggie Murphy wait on table in the daytime and sell _War +Crys_ at night for a week or more, Mr. Corbett decided he liked her +methods. The way she poised a tray of teacups on her head proclaimed +her a true artist. + +At the end of two weeks Mr. Corbett stated his case to Mrs. Murphy and +Maggie. + +"I've a poor hand," he declared; "but I am willing to play it out if +Maggie will sit opposite me and be my partner. I have only one gift-- +I'm handy with cards and I can deal myself three out of the four aces-- +but that's not much good to a man who tries to earn an honest living. I +am willing to try work--it may be all right for anything I know. If +Maggie will take me I'll promise to leave cards alone, and I'll do +whatever she thinks I ought to do." + +Maggie and her mother took a few days to consider. On one point their +minds were very clear. If Maggie "took" him, he could not keep any of +the money he had won gambling--he would have to start honest. Mr. +Corbett had, fortunately, arrived at the same conclusion himself, so +that point was easily disposed of. + +"It ain't for us to be hard on anyone that's tryin' to do better," said +Maggie's mother, as she rolled out the crust for the dried-apple pies. +"He's wasted his substance, and wasted his days, but who knows but the +Lord can use him yet to His honor and glory. The Lord ain't like us, +havin' to wait until He gets everything to His own likin', but He can +go ahead with whatever comes to His hand. He can do His work with poor +tools, and it's well for Him He can, and well for us, too." + +Maggie Murphy and John Corbett were married. + +John Corbett got a job at once as teamster for a transfer company, and +Maggie followed her mother's example and put a sign of "Table Board" in +the window. They lived in this way for ten years, and in spite of the +dismal prognostications of friends, John Corbett worked industriously, +and did not show any desire to return to his old ways! When he said he +would do what Maggie told him it was not the rash promise of an eager +lover, for Mr. Corbett was never rash, and the subsequent years showed +that his purpose was honest to fulfil it to the letter. + +Maggie, being many years his junior, could not think of addressing him +by his first name, and she felt that it was not seemly to use the +prefix, so again she followed her mother's example, and addressed him +as her mother did Murphy, senior, as "Da." + +It was in the early eighties that Maggie and John Corbett decided to +come farther west. The cry of free land for the asking was coming to +many ears, and at Maggie's table it was daily discussed. They sold out +the contents of their house, and, purchasing oxen and a covered wagon, +they made the long overland journey. On the bank of Black Creek they +pitched their tent, and before a week had gone by Maggie Corbett was +giving meals to hungry men, cooking bannocks, frying pork, and making +coffee on her little sheet-iron camp-stove, no bigger than a biscuit- +box. + +The next year, when the railroad came to Brandon, and the wheat was +drawn in from as far south as Lloyd's Lake, the Black Creek Stopping- +House became a far-famed and popular establishment. + + +CHAPTER II. + +_THE HOUSE OF BREAD_. + +Across the level plain which lies between the valley of the Souris and +the valley of the Assiniboine there ran, at this time, three trails. +There was the deeply-rutted old Hudson Bay trail, over which went the +fabulously heavy loads of fur long ago--grass-grown now and broken with +badger holes; there was "the trail," hard and firm, in the full pride +of present patronage, defying the invasion of the boldest blade of +grass; and by the side of it, faint and shadowy, like a rainbow's +understudy, ran "the new trail," strong in the certainty of being the +trail in time. + +For miles across the plain the men who follow the trail watch the steep +outlying shoulder of the Brandon Hills for a landmark. When they leave +the Souris valley the hills are blue with distance and seem to promise +wooded slopes, and maybe leaping streams, but a half-day's journey +dispels the illusion, for when the traveller comes near enough to see +the elevation as it is, it is only a rugged bluff, bald and bare, and +blotched with clumps of mangy grass, with a fringe of stunted poplar at +the base. + +After rounding the shoulder of the hill, the thick line of poplars and +elms which fringe the banks of Black Creek comes into view, and many a +man and horse have suddenly brightened at the sight, for in the shelter +of the trees there stands the Black Creek Stopping-House, which is the +half-way house on the way to Brandon. Hungry men have smelled the bacon +frying when more than a mile away, and it is only the men who follow +the trail who know what a heartsome smell that is. The horses, too, +tired with the long day, point their ears ahead and step livelier when +they see the whitewashed walls gleaming through the trees. + +The Black Creek Stopping-House gave not only food and shelter to the +men who teamed the wheat to market--it gave them good fellowship and +companionship. In the absence of newspapers it kept its guests abreast +with the times; events great and small were discussed there with +impartial deliberation, and often with surprising results. Actions and +events which seemed quite harmless, and even heroic, when discussed +along the trail, often changed their complexion entirely when Mrs. +Maggie Corbett let in the clear light of conscience on them, for even +on the very edge of civilization there are still to be found finger- +posts on the way to right living. + +Mrs. Maggie Corbett was a finger-post, and more, for a finger-post +merely points the way with its wooden finger, and then, figuratively, +retires from the scene to let you think it over; but Maggie Corbett +continued to take an interest in the case until it was decided to her +entire satisfaction. + +Black Creek, on whose wooded bank the Stopping-House stands, is a deep +black stream which makes its way leisurely across the prairie between +steep banks. Here and there throughout its length are little shallow +stretches which show a golden braid down the centre like any peaceful +meadow brook where children may with safety float their little boats, +but Black Creek, with its precipitous holes, is no safe companion for +any living creature that has not webbed toes or a guardian angel. + +The banks, which are of a spongy black loam, grow a heavy crop of +coarse meadow grass, interspersed in the late summer with the umbrella- +like white clusters of water hemlock. + + * * * * * + +About a mile from the Stopping-House there stood a strange log +structure, the present abode of Reginald and Randolph Brydon, late of +H.M. Navy, but now farmers and homesteaders. The house was built in +that form of architecture known as a "Red River frame," and the corners +were finished in the fashion called "saddle and notch." + +Whatever can be done to a house to spoil its appearance had been done +to this one. There was a "join" in each side, which was intended, and a +bulge which was accidental, and when the sailor brothers were unable to +make a log lie comfortably beside its neighbor by using the axe, they +resorted to long iron spikes, and when these split the logs, as was +usually the case, they overcame the difficulty by using ropes. + +What had brought the Brydon brothers to Manitoba was a matter of +conjecture in the Black Creek neighborhood. Some said they probably +were not wanted at home; others, with deeper meaning, said they +probably _were_ wanted at home; and, indeed, their bushy eyebrows, +their fierce black eyes, the knives which they carried in their belts, +and their general manner of living, gave some ground to this +insinuation. + +The Brydon brothers did not work with that vigor and zeal which brings +success to the farmer. They began late and quit early, with numerous +rests in between. They showed a delightfully child-like trust in Nature +and her methods, for in the springtime, instead of planting their +potatoes in the ground the way they saw other people doing it, they +sprinkled them around the "fireguard," believing that the birds of the +air strewed leaves over them, or the rain washed them in, or in some +mysterious way they made a bed for themselves in the soil. + +They bought a cow from one of the neighbors, but before the summer was +over brought her back indignantly, declaring that she would give no +milk. Randolph declared that he knew she had it, for she had plenty the +last time he milked her, and that was several days ago--she should have +more now. It came out in the evidence that they only took from the cow +the amount of milk that they needed, reasoning that she had a better +way of keeping it than they had. The cow's former owner exonerated her +from all blame in the matter, saying that "Rosie" was all right as a +cow; but, of course, she was "no bloomin' refrigerator!" + +There was only one day in the week when the Brydon brothers could work +with any degree of enjoyment, and that was on Sunday, when there was +the added zest of wickedness. To drive the oxen up and down the field +in full view of an astonished and horrified neighborhood seemed to take +away in large measure from the "beastliness of labor," and then, too, +the Sabbath calm of the Black Creek valley seemed to stimulate their +imagination as they discoursed loudly and elaborately on the present +and future state of the oxen, consigning them without hope of release +to the remotest and hottest corner of Gehenna. But the complacent old +oxen, graduates in the school of hard knocks and mosquitoes, winked +solemnly, switched their tails and drowsed along unmoved. + +The sailors had been doing various odd jobs around the house on Sundays +ever since they came, but had not worked openly until one particular +Sunday in May. All day they hoped that someone would come and stop them +from working, or at least beg of them to desist, but the hot afternoon +wore away, and there was no movement around any of the houses on the +plain. The guardian of the morals of the neighborhood, Mrs. Maggie +Corbett, had taken notice of them all right, but she was a wise woman +and did not use militant methods until she had tried all others; and +she believed that she had other means of teaching the sailor twins the +advantages of Sabbath observance. + +About five o'clock the twins grew so uproariously hungry they were +compelled to quit their labors, but when they reached their house they +were horrified to find that a wandering dog, who also had no respect +for the Sabbath, had depleted their "grub-box," overlooking nothing but +the tea and sugar, which he had upset and spilled when he found he did +not care to eat them. + +Then it was the oxen's turn to laugh, for the twins' wrath was all +turned upon each other. Everything that they had said about the oxen, +it seemed, was equally true of each other--each of them had confidently +expected the other one to lock the door. + +There was nothing to do but to go across to the Black Creek Stopping- +House for supplies. Mrs. Corbett baked bread for them each week. + +Reginald, with a gun on his shoulder, and rolling more than ever in his +walk, strolled into the kitchen of the Stopping-House and made known +his errand. He also asked for the loan of a neck-yoke, having broken +his in a heated argument with the "starboard" ox. + +Mrs. Corbett, with a black dress and white apron on, sat, with folded +hands, in the rocking-chair. "Da" Corbett, with his "other clothes" on +and his glasses far down on his nose, sat in another rocking-chair +reading the life of General Booth. Peter Rockett, the chore boy, in a +clean pair of overalls, and with hair-oil on his hair, sat on the edge +of the wood-box twanging a Jew's-harp, and the tune that he played bore +a slight resemblance to "Pull for the Shore." + +Randolph felt the Sunday atmosphere, but, nevertheless, made known his +errand. + +"The bread is yours," said Mrs. Corbett, sternly; "you may have it, but +I can't bake any more for you!" + +"W'y not?" asked Reginald, feeling all at once hungrier than ever. + +"Of course I am not saying you can help it," Mrs. Corbett went on, +ignoring his question. "I suppose, maybe, you do the best you can. I +believe everybody does, if we only knew it, and you haven't had a very +good chance either, piratin' among the black heathen in the islands of +the sea; but the Bible speaks plain, and old Captain Coombs often told +us not to be unequally yoked with unbelievers, and I can't encourage +Sunday-breakin' by cookin' for them that do it!" + +"We weren't breakin', really we were only back-settin'," interposed +Reginald, quickly. + +"I don't wish to encourage Sabbath-breakin'," repeated Mrs. Corbett, +raising her voice a little to prevent interruptions, "by bakin' for +people who do it, or neighborin' with people who do it. Of course there +are some who say that the amount of work that you and your brother do +any day would not break the Sabbath." Here she looked hard at her man, +John Corbett, who stirred uneasily. "But there is no mistakin' your +meanin', and besides," Mrs. Corbett went on, "we have others besides +ourselves to think of--there's the child," indicating the lanky Peter +Rockett. + +The "child" thus alluded to closed one eye--the one farthest from Mrs. +Corbett--for a fraction of a second, and kept on softly teasing the +Jew's-harp. + +"Now you need not glare at me so fierce, you twin." Mrs. Corbett's +voice was still full of Sunday calm. "I do not know which one of you +you are, but anyway what I say applies to you both. Now take that look +off your face and stay and eat. I'll send something home to your other +one, too." + +Having delivered her ultimatum on the subject of Sunday work, Mrs. +Corbett became quite genial. She heaped Reginald's plate with cold +chicken and creamed potatoes, and, mellowed by them and the comfort of +her well-appointed table, he was prepared to renounce the devil and all +his works if Mrs. Corbett gave the order. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_THE SAILORS' REST_. + +When Reginald reached home he found his brother in a state of mind +bordering on frenzy, but when he shoved the basket which Mrs. Corbett +had filled for him toward Randolph with the unnecessary injunction to +"stow it in his hold," the lion's mouth was effectively closed. When he +had finished the last crumb Reginald told him Mrs. Corbett's decree +regarding Sunday work, and found that Randolph was prepared to abstain +from all forms of labor on all days in the week if she wished it. + +That night, after the twins had washed the accumulated stock of dishes, +and put patches on their overalls with pieces of canvas and a sail +needle, and performed the many little odd jobs which by all accepted +rules of ethics belong to Sunday evening's busy work, they sat beside +the fire and indulged in great depression of spirits! + +"She can't live forever," Reginald broke out at last with apparent +irrelevance. But there was no irrelevance--his remark was perfectly in +order. + +He was referring to a dear aunt in Bournemouth. This lady, who was +possessed of "funds," had once told her loving nephews--the twins--that +if they would go away and stay away she might--do something for them-- +by and by. She had urged them so strongly to go to Canada that they +could not, under the circumstances, do otherwise. Aunt Patience Brydon +shared the delusion that is so blissfully prevalent among parents and +guardians of wayward youth in England, that to send them to Canada will +work a complete reformation, believing that Canada is a good, kind +wilderness where iced tea is the strongest drink known, and where no +more exciting game than draughts is ever played. + +Aunt Patience, though a frail-looking little white-haired lady, had, it +seemed, a wonderful tenacity of life. + +"She'll slip her cable some day," Reginald declared soothingly. "She +can't hold out much longer--you know the last letter said she was +failin' fast." + +"Failin' fast!" Randolph broke in impatiently. "It's us that's failin' +fast! And maybe when we've waited and waited, and stayed away for 'er, +she'll go and leave it all to some Old Cats' 'Ome or Old Hens' Roost, +or some other beastly charity. I don't trust 'er--'any woman that 'olds +on to life the way she does--'er with one foot in the grave, and 'er +will all made and everything ready." + +"Well, she can't last always," Reginald declared, holding firmly to +this one bit of comfort. + +The next news they got from Bournemouth was positively alarming! She +was getting better. Then the twins lost hope entirely and decided to +treat Aunt Patience as one already dead--figuratively speaking, to turn +her picture to the wall. + +"Let her live as long as she likes," Reginald declared, "if she's so +jolly keen on it!" + +When they decided to trust no more to the deceitfulness of woman they +turned to another quarter for help, for they were, at this time, +"uncommonly low in funds." + +It was Randolph who got the idea, one day when he was sitting on the +plow handle lighting his pipe. + +"Wot's the matter with us gettin' out Fred for our farm pupil? He's got +some money--they say he married a rich man's daughter--and we've got +the experience!" + +"He's only a 'alf-brother!" said Reginald, at last, reflectively. + +"That don't matter one bit to me," declared Randolph, generously, "I'll +treat him just the same as I would you!" + +Reginald shrugged his shoulders eloquently. + +"What about his missus?" asked Reginald, after a silence. + +"She can come," Randolph said, magnanimously. "We'll build a piece to +the house." + +The more they talked about it the more enthusiastic they became. Under +the glow of this new project they felt they could hurl contempt on Aunt +Patience and her unnatural hold on life. + +"I don't know but what I would rather take 'elp from the livin' than +the dead, anyway," Reginald said, virtuously, that night before they +went to bed. + +"They're more h'apt to ask it back, just the same," objected Randolph. + +"I was just goin' to say," Reginald began again, "that I'd just as soon +take 'elp from the livin' as the dead, especially when there ain't no +dead!" + +They began at once to write letters to their long-neglected brother +Fred, enthusiastically setting forth the charms of this new country. +They dwelt on the freedom of the life, the abundance of game, and the +view! They made a great deal of the view, and certainly there was +nothing to obstruct it, for the prairie lay a dead level for ten miles +north of them, only dotted here and there with little weather-bleached +warts of houses like their own, where other optimists were trying to +make a dint in the monotony. + +The letters which went east every mail were splendid productions in +their way, written with ease and eloquence, and utterly untrammeled by +any regard for facts. + +Their brother responded just as they hoped he would, and the twins were +greatly delighted with the success of their plan. + +Events of which the twins knew nothing favored their project and made +Fred and his wife glad to leave Toronto. Evelyn Grant had bitterly +estranged her father by marrying against his wishes. So the proposal +from Randolph and Reginald that they come West and take the homestead +near them seemed to offer an escape from much that was unpleasant. +Besides, it was just at the time when so many people were hearing the +call of the West. + +At the suggestion of his brothers, Fred sent in advance the money to +build a house on his homestead. But the twins, not wishing to make any +mistake, or to have any misunderstanding with Fred, built it right +beside their own. Fred sent enough money to have a frame building put +up but the twins decided that logs were more romantic and cheaper. It +was a remarkable structure when they were through with it, stuck +against their own house, as if by accident, and resembling in its +irregularity the growth of a freak potato. Cables were freely used; +binder twine served as hinges on the doors and also as latches. + +They gave as a reason for sticking the new part against their own +irregularly that they intended to use the alcoves for verandahs! + +They agreed to put in Fred's crop for him--for a consideration; to put +up hay; to buy oxen. Indeed, so many kindly offices did they agree to +perform for him that Fred had advanced them, in all, nearly two +thousand dollars. + +The preparations were watched with great interest by the neighbors, and +the probable outcome of it all was often a topic of conversation at the +Black Creek Stopping-House. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +_FARM PUPILS_. + +June in Manitoba, when the tender green of grass and leaf is bathed in +the sparkling sunshine; when the first wild roses are spilling their +perfume on the air, and the first orange lilies are lifting their glad +faces to the sun; when the prairie chicken, intent on family cares, +runs cautiously beside the road, and the hermit thrushes from the +thickets drive their sweet notes into the quiet evening. It is a time +to remember lovingly and with sweet gratitude; a time when the love of +the open prairie overtakes us, and binds us fast in golden fetters. +There is no hint of the cruel winter that is waiting just around the +corner, or of the dull autumn drizzle closer still; there is nothing +but peace and warmth and beauty. + +As the old "Cheyenne," the only sidewheeler on the Assiniboine, +churning the muddy water into creamy foam, made its way to the green +shore at Curry's Landing, Fred and Evelyn Brydon, standing on the +narrow deck, felt the grip of the place and the season. Even the +captain's picturesque language, as he directed the activities of the +"rousters" who pulled the boat ashore, seemed less like profanity and +more like figure of speech. + +The twins had made several unfruitful journeys to the Landing for their +brother and his wife, for they began to go two days before the +"Cheyenne" was expected, and had been going twice a day since, all of +which had been carefully entered in their account book! + +Their appearance as they stood on the shore, sneering at the captain's +directions to his men from the superior height of their nautical +experience, was warlike in the extreme, although they were clothed in +the peaceful overalls and smock of the farmer and also had submitted to +a haircut at the earnest instigation of Mrs. Corbett, who threatened to +cut off all bread-making unless her wishes were complied with! + +Evelyn, who had never seen her brothers-in-law, looked upon them now in +wonder, and she could see their appearance was somewhat of a surprise +to Fred, who had not seen them for many years, and who remembered them +only as the heroes of his childhood days. + +They greeted Fred hilariously, but to his wife they spoke timidly, for, +brave as they were in facing Spanish pirates, they were timid to the +point of flight in the presence of women. + +As they drove home in the high-boxed wagon, the twins endeavored to +keep up the breezy enthusiasm that had characterized their letters. +They raved about the freedom of the West; they went into fresh raptures +over the view, and almost deranged their respiratory organs in their +praises of the air. They breathed in deep breaths of the ambient +atmosphere, chewed it up with loud smacks of enjoyment, and then blew +it out, snorting like whales. Evelyn, who was not without a sense of +humor, would have enjoyed it all, and laughed _at_ them, even if she +could not laugh with them, if she could have forgotten that they were +her husband's brothers, but it is very hard to see the humorous in the +grotesque behavior of those to whom we are "bound by the ties of duty," +if not affection. + +A good supper at the Black Creek Stopping-House and the hearty +hospitality of Mrs. Corbett restored Evelyn's good spirits. She +noticed, too, that the twins tamed down perceptibly in Mrs. Corbett's +presence. + +Mrs. Corbett insisted on Fred and his wife spending the night at the +Stopping-House. + +"Don't go to your own house until morning," she said. "Things look a +lot different when the sun is shining, and out here, you see, Mrs. +Fred, we have to do without and forget so many things that we bank a +lot on the sun. You people who live in cities, you've got gas and big +lamps, and I guess it doesn't bother you much whether the sun rises or +doesn't rise, or what he does, you're independent; but with us it is +different. The sun is the best thing we've got, and we go by him +considerable. Providence knows how it is with us, and lets us have lots +of the sun, winter and summer." + +Evelyn gladly consented to stay. + +Mrs. Corbett, observing Evelyn's soft white hands, decided that she was +not accustomed to work, and the wonder of how it would all turn out was +heavy upon her kind Irish heart as she said goodbye to her next +morning. + +A big basket of bread and other provisions was put into the wagon at +the last minute. "Maybe your stove won't be drawin' just right at the +first," said Maggie Corbett, apologetically. As she watched Evelyn's +hat of red roses fading in the distance she said softly to herself: +"Sure I do hope it's true that He tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, +tho' there's some that says that ain't in the Bible at all. But it +sounds nice and kind anyway, and yon poor lamb needs all the help He +can give her. Him and me, we'll have to do the best we can for her!" + +Mrs. Corbett went over to see her new neighbor two or three days after. +In response to her knock on the rough lumber door, a thin little voice +called to her to enter, which she did. + +On the bare floor stood an open trunk from which a fur-trimmed pale +pink opera cloak hung carelessly. Beside the trunk in an attitude of +homesickness huddled the young woman, hair dishevelled, eyes red. Her +dress of green silk, embroidered stockings and beaded slippers looked +out of place and at variance with her primitive surroundings. + +When Mrs. Corbett entered the room she sprang up hastily and apologized +for the untidiness of her house. She chattered gaily to hide the +trouble in her face, and Mrs. Corbett wisely refrained from any +apparent notice of her tears, and helped her to unpack her trunks and +set the house to rights. + +Mrs. Corbett showed her how to make a combined washstand and clothes +press out of two soap boxes, how to make a wardrobe out of the head of +the bed, and set the twin sailors at the construction of a cookhouse +where the stove could be put. + +When Mrs. Corbett left that afternoon it was a brighter and more +liveable dwelling. Coming home along the bank of Black Creek, she was +troubled in mind and heart for her new neighbor. + +"This is June," she said to herself, "and wild roses are crowdin' up to +her door, and the meadow larks are sittin' round all over blinkin' at +the sun, and she has her man with her, and she ain't tired with the +work, and her hands ain't cracked and sore, and she hasn't been there +long enough to dislike the twins the way she will when she knows them +better, and there's no mosquitoes, and she hasn't been left to stay +alone, and still she cries! God help us! What will she do in the long +drizzle in the fall, when the wheat's spoilin' in the shock maybe, and +the house is dark, and her man's away--what _will_ she do?" + +Mrs. Brydon spent many happy hours that summer at the Stopping-House, +and soon Mrs. Corbett knew all the events of her past life; the +sympathetic understanding of the Irish woman made it easy for her to +tell many things. Her mother had died when she was ten years old, and +since then she had been her father's constant companion until she met +Fred Brydon. + +She could not understand, and so bitterly resented, her father's +dislike of Fred, not knowing that his fond old heart was torn with +jealousy. She and her father were too much alike to ever arrive at an +understanding, for both were proud and quick-tempered and imperious, +and so each day the breach grew wider. Just a word, a caress, an +assurance from her that she loved him still, that the new love had not +driven out the old, would have set his heart at rest, but with the +cruel thoughtlessness of youth she could see only one side of the +affair, and that her own. + +At last she ran away and was married to the young man, whom her father +had never allowed her to bring to see him, and the proud old man was +left alone in his dreary mansion, brooding over what he called the +heartlessness of his only child. + +Mrs. Corbett, with her quick understanding, was sorry for both of them, +and at every opportunity endeavored to turn Evelyn's thoughts towards +home. Once, at her earnest appeal, after she had got the young woman +telling her about how kind her father had been to her when her mother +died, Evelyn consented to write him a letter, but when it was finished, +with a flash of her old imperious pride, she tore it across and flung +the pieces on the floor, then hastily gathered them up and put them in +the stove. + +One half sheet of the letter did not share the fate of the remainder, +for Mrs. Corbett intercepted it and hastily hid it in her apron pocket. +She might need it, she thought. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +_THE PRAIRIE CLUB-HOUSE._ + +The tender green of the early summer deepened and ripened into the +golden tinge of autumn as over the Black Creek Valley the mantle of +harvest was spread. + +Only a small portion of the valley was under cultivation, for the +oldest settler had been in only for three years; but it seemed as if +every grain sowed had fallen upon good soil and gave promise of the +hundredfold. + +Across John Corbett's ten acres of wheat and forty acres of oats the +wind ran waves of shadow all day long, and the pride of the land-owner +thrilled Maggie Corbett's heart over and over again. + +Not that the lady of the Stopping-House took the time to stand around +and enjoy the sensation, for the busy time was coming on and many +travellers were moving about and must be fed. But while she scraped the +new potatoes with lightning speed, or shelled the green peas, all of +her own garden, her thoughts were full of that peace and reverent +gratitude that comes to those who plant the seed and see it grow. + +It was a glittering day in early August; a light shower the night +before had washed the valley clean of dust, and now the hot harvest sun +poured down his ripening rays over the pulsating earth. To the south +the Brandon Hills shimmered in a pale gray mirage. Over the trees which +sheltered the Stopping-House a flock of black crows circled in the blue +air, croaking and complaining that the harvest was going to be late. On +the wire-fence that circled the haystack sat a row of red-winged +blackbirds like a string of jet beads, patiently waiting for the oats +to ripen and indulging in low-spoken but pleasant gossip about all the +other birds in the valley. + +Within doors Mrs Corbett served dinner to a long line of stoppers. Many +of the "boys" she had not seen since the winter before, and while she +worked she discussed neighborhood matters with them, the pleasing +sizzle of eggs frying on a hot pan making a running accompaniment to +her words. + +The guests at Mrs. Corbett's table were a typical pioneer group-- +homesteaders, speculators, machine men journeying through the country +to sell machinery to harvest the grain not yet grown; the farmer has +ever been well endowed with hope, and the machine business flourishes. + +Mrs. Corbett could talk and work at the same time, her sudden +disappearances from the room as she replenished the table merely +serving as punctuation marks, and not interfering with the thread of +the story at all. + +When she was compelled by the exigencies of the case to be present in +the kitchen, and therefore absent in the dining-room, she merely +elevated her voice to overcome distance, and dropped no stitch in the +conversation. + +"New neighbor, is it, you are sayin', Tom? 'Deed and I have, and her +the purtiest little trick you ever saw--diamond rings on her, and silk +skirts, and plumes on her hat, and hair as yalla as gold." + +"When she comes over here I can't be doin' my work for lookin' at her. +She was brought up with slathers of money." This came back from the +"cheek of the dure", where Mrs. Corbett was emptying the tea leaves from +the teapot. "But the old man, beyant, ain't been pleased with her since +she married this Fred chap--he wouldn't ever look at Fred, nor let him +come to the house, and so she ran away with him, and no one could blame +her either for that, and now her and the old man don't write at all, at +all--reach me the bread plate in front of you there, Jim--and there's +bad blood between them. I can see, though, her and the old man are fond +o' one another!" + +"Is her man anything like the twin pirates?" asked Sam Moggey from Oak +Creek; "because if he is I don't blame the old man for being mad about +it." Sam was helping himself to another quarter of vinegar pie as he +spoke. + +Mrs. Corbett could not reply for a minute, for she was putting a new +bandage on Jimmy MacCaulay's finger, and she had the needle and thread +in her mouth. + +"Not a bit like them, Sam," she said, as soon as she had the bandage in +place, and as she put in quick stitches; "no more like them than day is +like night--he's only a half-brother, and a lot younger. He's a +different sort altogether from them two murderin' villains that sits in +the house all day playin' cards. He's a good, smart fellow, and has +done a lot of breakin' and cleanin' up since he came. What he thinks of +the other two lads I don't know--she never says, but I'd like fine to +know." + +"Sure, you'll soon know then, Maggie," said "Da" Corbett, bringing in +another platter of bacon and eggs and refilling the men's plates. +"Don't worry." + +In the laugh that followed Maggie Corbett joined as heartily as any of +them. + +"Go 'long with you, Da!" she cried; "sure you're just as anxious as I +am to know. We all think a lot of Fred and Mrs. Fred," she went on, +bringing in two big dishes of potatoes; "and if you could see that +poor, precious lamb trying to cook pork and beans with a little wisp of +an apron on, all lace and ribbons, and big diamonds on her fingers, +you'd be sorry for her, and you'd say, 'What kind of an old tyrant is +the old man down beyant, and why don't he take her and Fred back?' It's +not wrastlin' round black pots she should be, and she's never been any +place all summer only over here, for they've only the oxen, and altho' +she never says anything, I'll bet you she'd like a bit of a drive, or +to get out to some kind of a-doin's, or the like of that." + +While Mrs. Corbett gaily rattled on there was one man at her table who +apparently took no notice of what she said. + +He was a different type of man from all the others. Dark complexioned, +with swarthy skin and compelling black eyes, he would be noticeable in +any company. He was dressed in the well-cut clothes of a city man, and +carried himself with a certain air of distinction. + +Happening to notice the expression on his face, Mrs. Corbett suddenly +changed the conversation, and during the remainder of the meal watched +him closely with a puzzled and distrustful look. + +When the men had gone that day and John Corbett came in to have his +afternoon rest on the lounge in the kitchen, he found Maggie in a self- +reproachful mood. + +"Da," she began, "the devil must have had a fine laugh to himself when +he saw the Lord puttin' a tongue in a woman's head. Did ye hear me +to-day, talking along about that purty young thing beyant, and Rance +Belmont takin' in every word of it? Sure and I never thought of him +bein' here until I noticed the look on that ugly mug of his, and mind +you, Da, there's people that call him good-lookin' with that heavy jowl +of his and the hair on him growin' the wrong way on his head, and them +black eyes of his the color of the dirt in the road. They do say he's +just got a bunch of money from the old country, and he's cuttin' a wide +swath with it. If I'd kept me mouth shut he'd have gone on to Brandon +and never knowed a word about there being a purty young thing near. But +I watched him hitchin' up, and didn't he drive right over there; and I +tell you, Da, he means no good." + +"Don't worry, Maggie," John Corbett said, soothingly. "He can't pick +her up and run off with her. Mrs. Fred's no fool." + +"He's a divil!" Maggie declared with conviction. "Mind you, Da, there +ain't many that can put the comaudher on me, but Rance Belmont done it +once." + +Mr. Corbett looked up with interest and waited for her to speak. + +"It was about the card-playin'. You know I've never allowed a card in +me house since I had a house, and never intended to, but the last day +Rance Belmont was here--that was away last spring, when you were away-- +he begins to play with one of the boys that was in for dinner. Right in +there on the sewin'-machine in plain sight of all of us I saw them, and +I wiped me hands and tied up me apron, and I walked in, and says I, +'I'll be obliged to you, Mr. Belmont, to put them by,' and I looked at +him, stiff as pork. 'Why, certainly, Mrs. Corbett,' says he, smilin' at +me as if I had said somethin' pleasant. I felt a little bit ashamed, +and went on to sort of explain about bein' brought up in the Army and +all that, and he talked so nice about the Army that you would have +thought it was old Major Morris come back again from the dead, and +pretty soon he had me talkin' away to him and likin' him; and says he, +'I was just going to show Jimmy here a funny trick that can be done +with cards, but,' says he, 'if Mrs. Corbett objects I wouldn't offend +her for the world!' Now here's the part that scares me, Da--me, Maggie +Murphy, that hates cards like I do the divil; says I to him, 'Oh, go +on, Mr. Belmont; I don't mind at all!' Now what do you think of that, +Da?" + +John Corbett sat thinking, but he was not thinking of what Maggie +thought he was thinking. He was wondering what trick it was that Rance +Belmont had showed Jimmy Peters! + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +_THE COUNTER-IRRITANT._ + +When Fred Brydon made the discovery that his two brothers spent a great +deal of their time in the pleasant though unprofitable occupation of +card-playing with two or three of the other impecunious young men of +the neighborhood, he remonstrated with them on this apparent waste of +time. When he later discovered that they were becoming so engrossed in +the game that they had but little time to plant, sow or reap, or do any +of the things incidental to farm life, he became very indignant indeed. + +The twins naturally resented any such interference from their farm +pupil. They told him that he was there to learn farming, and not to +give advice to his elders. + +Nearly everyone agrees that card playing is a pleasant and effective +way of killing time for people who wait for a long delayed train at a +lonely wayside station. This is exactly the position in which the twins +found themselves. So, while Aunt Patience, of Bournemouth, tarried and +procrastinated, her loving nephews across the sea, thinking of her +night and day, waited with as good grace as they could and played the +game! + +Unlike the twins, Fred Brydon liked hard work, and applied himself with +great energy to the work of the farm, determined to disprove his angry +father-in-law's words that he would never make a success of anything. + +The fact that the twins were playing for money gave Fred some uneasy +moments, and the uncomfortable suspicion that part of his money was +being used in this way kept growing upon him. + +He did not mention any of these things to Evelyn, for he knew it was +hard for her to keep up friendly relations with Reginald and Randolph, +and he did not want to say anything that would further predispose her +against them. + +However, Evelyn, with some of her father's shrewdness, was arriving at +a very correct estimate of the twins without any help from anyone. + +The twins had enjoyed life much better since the coming of their +brother and his wife. They quite enjoyed looking out of the fly-specked +window at their brother at work with the oxen in the fields. Then, too, +the many flattering remarks made by their friends in regard to their +sister-in-law's beauty were very grateful to their ears. + +One day, in harvest time, when something had gone wrong with their +binder, and Fred had sent to Brandon for a new knotter, the twins +refused to pay for it when it came, telling him that he could pay for +it himself. Fred paid for it and worked all afternoon without saying +anything, but that evening he came into their part of the house and +told them he wanted a detailed statement of how his money had been +spent. + +The twins were thoroughly hurt and indignant. Did he think they had +cheated him? And they asked each other over and over again, "Did +anybody ever hear of such ingratitude?" + +The next day Evelyn made a remark which quite upset them. She told them +that if Fred did all the work he should have more than half the crop. + +The twins did not like these occurrences. Instinctively they felt that +a storm was coming. They began to wonder what would be the best way to +avoid trouble. + +The prairie-dwellers have a way of fighting a prairie fire which is +very effective. When they see the blue veil of smoke lying close to the +horizon, or the dull red glare on the night sky, they immediately start +another fire to go out and meet the big fire! + +Some such thought as this was struggling in the twins' brains the day +that Rance Belmont came over from the Stopping-House, and in his +graceful way asked Mrs. Brydon to go driving with him, an invitation +which Fred urged her to accept. When the drive was over and Rance came +in to the twins' apartments, and on their invitation had a game with +them and lost, they were suddenly smitten with an idea. They began to +see how it might be possible to start another fire! + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +_LADIES' DAY AT THE STOPPING-HOUSE._ + +The glory of the summer paled and faded; the crimson and gold of the +harvest days had fled before the cold winds of autumn, and now the +trees along the bank of the creek stood leafless and bare, trembling +and swaying as if in dread of the long winter that would soon be upon +them. The harvest had been cut and gathered in, and now, when the +weather was fine, the industrious hum of the threshing-machine came on +the wind for many miles, and the column of blue smoke which proclaimed +the presence of a "mill" shot up in all directions. + +At the Black Creek Stopping-House the real business of the year had +begun, for every day heavily-loaded wheat wagons wound slowly over the +long trail on their way to Brandon, and the Stopping-House became the +foregathering place of all the farmers in the settlement. At noon the +stable yard presented a lively appearance as the "boys" unhitched their +steaming teams and led them to the long, straggling straw-roofed +stables. The hay that John Corbett had cut on the meadows of Black +Creek and stacked beside the stables was carried in miniature stacks +which completely hid the man who carried them into the mangers, while +the creaking windlass of the well proclaimed that the water-troughs +were being filled. The cattle who foraged through the straw stack in +the field near by always made the mistake of thinking that they were +included in the invitation, much to the disgust of Peter Rockett, the +chore boy, who drove them back with appropriate remarks. + +Inside of the Stopping-House the long dining-room, called "the room," +was a scene of great activity. The long oilcloth-covered table down the +centre of the "room" was full of smoking dishes of potatoes and ham and +corned beef, and piled high with bread and buns; tin teapots were at +each end of the table and were passed from hand to hand. There were +white bowls filled with stewed prunes and apricots and pitchers of +"Goldendrop" syrup at intervals down the table. + +Table etiquette was fairly well observed--the person who took the last +of the potatoes was in duty bound to take the dish out to the kitchen +and replenish it from the black pot which stood on its three legs on +the back of the kitchen stove. The same rule applied to the tea and the +bread. Also when one had finished his meal the correct plan of +procedure was to gather up his plate, knife and fork and cup and saucer +and carry them out to the kitchen, where Mrs. Corbett or Peter Rockett +hastily washed them to be ready for the next one. + +When entering the Black Creek dining-room with the purpose of having a +meal there were certain small conventions to be observed. If a place +was already set, the newcomer could with impunity sit down and proceed +with the order of business; if there was no place set, but room for a +place to be set, the hungry one came out to the kitchen and selected +what implements he needed in the way of plate and knife and proceeded +to the vacancy; if there was not a vacant place at the table, the +newcomer retired to the window and read the _Northern Messenger_ or the +_War Cry_, which were present in large numbers on the sewing-machine. +But before leaving the table conversation zone, it was considered +perfectly legitimate to call out in a loud voice: "Some eat fast, some +eat long, and some eat both ways," or some such bright and felicitous +remark. It was a bitter cold day in November--one of those dark, cold +days with a searching wind, just before the snow comes. In Mrs. +Corbett's kitchen there was an unusual bustle and great excitement, for +the women from the Tiger Hills were there--three of them on their way +to Brandon. Mrs. Corbett said it always made her nervous to cook for +women. You can't fool them on a bad pudding by putting on a good sauce, +the way you can a man. But Mrs. Corbett admitted it was good to see +them anyway. + +There was Mrs. Berry and her sister, Miss Thornley, and Mrs. Smith. +They had ridden fifteen miles on a load of wheat, and had yet another +fifteen to go to reach their destination. In spite of a long, cold and +very slow ride, the three ladies were in splendid condition, and as +soon as they were thawed out enough to talk, and long before their +teeth stopped chattering, they began to ask about Mrs. Corbett's +neighbor, young Mrs. Brydon, in such a way, that, as Mrs. Corbett +afterwards explained to Da Corbett, "you could tell they had heard +something." + +"Our lads saw her over at the Orangemen's ball in Millford, and they +said Rance Belmont was with her more than her own man," said Mrs. +Berry, as she melted the frost from her eyebrows by holding her face +over the stove. + +"Oh, well," Mrs. Corbett said, "I guess all the young fellows were +makin' a lot of her, but sure there's no harm in that." + +Miss Thornley was too busy examining her feet for possible frostbites +to give in her contribution just then, but after she had put her +coldest foot in a wash-basin of water she said, "I don't see how any +woman can go the length of her toe with Rance Belmont, but young Mrs. +Brydon went to Brandon with him last week, for my sister's husband +heard it from somebody that had seen them. I don't know how she can do +it." + +Mrs. Corbett was mashing potatoes with a gem-jar, and without stopping +her work she said: "Oh, well, Miss Thornley, it's easy for you and me +to say we would not go out with Rance Belmont, but maybe that's mostly +because we have never had the chance. He's got a pretty nice way with +him, Rance has, and I guess if he came along now with his sorrel pacer +and says to you, 'Come on, Miss Thornley,' you would get on that boot +and stocking in two jiffies and be off with him like any young girl!" + +Miss Thornley mumbled a denial, and an angry light shone in her pale +blue eyes. + +Mrs. Smith was also full of the subject, and while she twisted her hair +into a small "nub" about the size, shape and color of a peanut, she +expressed her views. + +"It ain't decent for her to be goin' round with Rance Belmont the way +she does, and they say at the dance at Millford she never missed a +dance. Since Rance has got his money from England he hasn't done a +thing but play cards with them twins and take her round. I don't see +how her man can put up with it, but he's an awful easy-goin' chap--just +the kind that wouldn't notice anything wrong until he'd come home some +night and find her gone. I haven't one bit of respect for her." + +"Oh, now, Mrs. Smith, you're too hard on her. She's young and pretty +and likes a good time." Mrs. Corbett was giving her steel knives a +quick rub with ashes out of deference to the lady stoppers. "It's easy +enough for folks like us," waving her knife to include all present, "to +be very respectable and never get ourselves talked about, for nobody's +askin' us to go to dances or fly around with them, but with her it's +different. Don't be hard on her! She ain't goin' to do anything she +shouldn't." + +But the ladies were loath to adopt Mrs. Corbett's point of view. All +their lives nothing had happened, and here was a deliciously exciting +possible scandal, and they clung to it. + +"They say the old man Grant is nearly a millionaire, and he's getting +lonely for her, and is pretty near ready to forgive her and Fred and +take them back. Wouldn't it be awful if the old man should come up here +and find she'd gone with Rance Belmont?" + +Mrs. Berry looked anxiously around the kitchen as if searching for the +lost one. + +"Oh, don't worry," declared Mrs. Corbett; "she ain't a quitter. She'll +stay with her own man; they're happy as ever I saw two people." + +"If she did go," Miss Thornley said, sentimentally, "if she did go, do +you suppose she'd leave a note pinned on the pin-cushion? I think they +mostly do!" + +When the ladies had gone that afternoon, and while Mrs. Corbett washed +the white ironstone dishes, she was not nearly so composed and +confident in mind as she pretended to be. + +"Don't it beat the band how much they find out? I often wonder how +things get to be known. I do wish she wouldn't give them the chance to +talk, but she's not the one that will take tellin'--too much like her +father for that--and still I kind o' like her for her spunky ways. +Rance is a divil, but she don't know that. It is pretty hard to tell +what ought to be done. This is surely work for the Almighty, and not +for sinful human beings!" + +That night Mrs. Corbett took her pen in hand. Mrs. Corbett was more at +home with the potato-masher or the rolling-pin, but when duty called +her she followed, even though it involved the using of unfamiliar +tools. + +She wrote a lengthy letter to Mr. Robert Grant, care of The Imperial +Lumber Company, Toronto, Ontario: + +"Dear and respected sir," Mrs. Corbett wrote, "I take my pen in hand to +write you a few things that maybe you don't know but ought to know, and +to tell you your daughter is well, but homesick sometimes hoping that +you are enjoying the same blessings as this leaves us at present. Your +daughter is my neighbor and a blessed girl she is, and it is because I +love her so well that I am trying to write to you now, not being handy +at it, as you see; also my pen spits. As near as I can make out you and +her's cut off the same cloth; both of you are touchy and quick, and, if +things don't suit you, up and coming. But she's got a good heart in her +as ever I see. One day she told me a lot about how good you were to her +when her mother died, and about the prayer her mother used to tell her +to say: 'Help papa and mamma and Evelyn to be chums.' When she came to +that she broke right down and cried, and says she to me, 'I haven't +either of them now!' If you'd a-seen her that day you'd have forgot +everything only that she was your girl. Then she sat down and wrote you +a long letter, but when she got done didn't she tear it up, because she +said you told her you wouldn't read her letters. I saved a bit of the +letter for you to see, and here it is. We don't any of us see what made +you so mad at the man she got--he's a good fellow, and puts up with all +her high temper. She's terrible like yourself, excuse me for saying so +and meaning no harm. If she'd married some young scamp that was soaked +in whiskey and cigarettes you'd a-had something to kick about. I don't +see what you find in him to fault. Maybe you'll be for telling me to +mind my own business, but I am not used to doing that, for I like to +take a hand any place I see I can do any good, and if I was leaving my +girl fretting and lonely all on account of my dirty temper, both in me +and in her, though for that she shouldn't be blamed, I'd be glad for +someone to tell me. If you should want to send her a Christmas present, +and she says you never forgot her yet, come yourself. It's you she's +fretting for. You can guess it's lonely for her here when I tell you +she and me's the only women in this neighborhood, and I keep a +stopping-house, and am too busy feeding hungry men to be company for +anyone. + +"Hoping these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessings, + +"Yours respectively, + +"MAGGIE CORBETT." + +The writing of the letter took Mrs. Corbett the greater part of the +afternoon, but when it was done she felt a great weight had been lifted +from her heart. She set about her preparations for the evening meal +with more than usual speed. + +Going to the door to call Peter Rockett, she was surprised to see Rance +Belmont, with his splendid sorrel pacer, drive into the yard. He came +into the house a few minutes afterwards and seemed to be making +preparations to stay for supper. + +A sudden resolve was formed in Mrs. Corbett's mind as she watched him +hanging up his coat and making a careful toilet at the square looking- +glass which hung over the oilcloth-covered soap box on which stood the +wash-basin and soap saucer. She called to him to come into the pantry, +and while she hurriedly peeled the potatoes she plunged at once into +the subject. + +"Rance," she began, "you go to see Mrs. Brydon far too often, and +people are talking about it." + +Rance shrugged his shoulders. + +"Now, don't tell me you don't care, or that it's none of my business, +though that may be true." + +"I would never be so lacking in politeness, however true it might be!" +he answered, rolling a cigarette. + +Mrs. Corbett looked at him a minute, then she broke out, "Oh, but you +are the smooth-tongued gent!--you'd coax the birds off the bushes; but +I want to tell you that you are not doing right hanging around Mrs. +Brydon the way you do." + +"Does she object?" he asked, in the same even tone, as he slowly struck +a match on the sole of his boot. + +"She's an innocent little lamb," Mrs. Corbett cried, "and she's lonely +and homesick, and you've taken advantage of it. That poor lamb can't +stand the prairie like us old pelters that's weatherbeaten and gray and +toughened--she ain't made for it--she was intended for diamond rings +and drawing-rooms, and silks and satins." + +Rance Belmont looked at her, still smiling his inexplicable smile. + +"I can supply them better than she is getting them now," he said. + +Mrs. Corbett gave an exclamation of surprise. + +"But she's a married woman," she cried, "and a good woman, and what are +you, Rance? Sure you're no mate for any honest woman, you blackhearted, +smooth-tongued divil!" Mrs. Corbett's Irish temper was mounting higher +and higher, and two red spots burned in her cheeks. "You know as well +as I do that there's no happiness for any woman that goes wrong. That +woman must stand by her man, and he's a good fellow, Fred is; such a +fine, clean, honest lad, he never suspects anyone of being a crook or +meanin' harm. Why can't you go off and leave them alone, Rance? They +were doin' fine before you came along. Do one good turn, Rance, and +take yourself off." + +"You ask too much, Mrs. Corbett. I find Mrs. Brydon very pleasant +company, and Mr. Fred does not object to my presence." + +"But he would if he knew how the people talk about it." + +"That is very wrong of them, and entirely unavoidable," Rance answered, +calmly, "But the opinion of the neighbors has never bothered me yet," +he continued; "why should it in this instance?" + +Mrs. Corbett's eyes flashed ominously. + +"Do you know what I'd do if it was my girl you were after?" she asked, +pausing in her work and fixing her eyes on him. + +"Something very unpleasant, I should say, by the tone of your voice-- +and, by the way, you are pointing your potato knife at me--" + +Mrs. Corbett with an effort controlled her temper. + +"I believe, Mrs. Corbett, you would do me bodily injury. What a +horrible thought, and you a former officer in the Salvation Army!" +Rance was smiling again and enjoying the situation. "What a thrilling +headline it would make for the Brandon _Sun_: 'The Black Creek +Stopping-House scene of a brutal murder. Innocent young man struck down +in his youth and beauty.' You make me shudder, Mrs. Corbett, but you +look superb when you rage like that; really, you women interest me a +great deal. I am so fond of all of you!" + +"You're a divil, Rance!" Mrs. Corbett repeated again. "But you ain't +goin' to do that blessed girl any harm--she's goin' to be saved from +you some way." + +"Who'll do it, I wonder?" Rance seemed to triumph over her. + +"There is One," said Maggie Corbett, solemnly, "who comes to help when +all other help fails." + +"Who's that?" he asked, yawning. + +Maggie Corbett held up her right hand. + +"It is God!" she said slowly. Rance laughed indulgently. "A myth--a +name--a superstition," he sneered; "there is no God any more." + +"There is a God," she said, slowly and reverently, for she was Maggie +Murphy now, back to the Army days when God walked with her day by day, +"and He can hear a mother's prayer, and though I was never a mother +after the flesh, I am a mother now to that poor girl in the place of +the one that's gone, and I'm askin' Him to save her, and I've got me +answer. He will do it." + +There was a gleam in her eyes and a white glow in her face that made +Rance Belmont for one brief moment tremble, but he lighted another +cigarette and with a bow of exaggerated politeness left the room. + +The days that followed were anxious ones for Mrs. Corbett. Many +stoppers sat at her table as the Christmas season drew near, and many +times she heard allusions to her young neighbor which filled her with +apprehension. She had carefully counted the days that it would take her +letter to reach its destination, and although there had been time for a +reply, none came. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +_SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT_. + +It was a wind-swept, chilly morning in late November, and Evelyn +Brydon, alone in the silent little house, stood at the window looking +listlessly at the dull gray monochrome which stretched before her. + +The unaccustomed housework had roughened and chapped her hands, and the +many failures in her cooking experiments, in spite of Mrs, Corbett's +instructions, had left her tired and depressed, for a failure is always +depressing, even if it is only in the construction of the things which +perish. + +This dark morning it seemed to her that her life was as gray and +colorless as the bleached-out prairie--the glamor had gone from +everything. + +She and Fred had had their first quarrel, and Fred had gone away dazed +and hurt by the things she had said under the stress of her anger. He +was at a loss to know what had gone wrong with Evelyn, for she had +seemed quite contented all the time. He did not know how the many +little annoyances had piled up on her; how the utter loneliness of the +prairie, with its monotonous sweep of frost-killed grass, the deadly +sameness, and the perpetual silence of the house, had so worked upon +her mind that it required but a tiny spark to cause an explosion. + +The spark he had supplied himself when he had tried to defend his +brothers from her charges. All at once Evelyn felt herself grow cold +with anger, and the uncontrolled hasty words, bitterer than anything +she had ever thought, utterly unjust and cruel, sprang to her lips, and +Fred, stung to the quick with the injustice of it, had gone away +without a word. + +It was with a very heavy heart that he went to his work that day; but +he had to go, for he was helping one of the neighbors to thresh, and +every dry day was precious, and every man was needed. + +All day long Evelyn went about the house trying to justify herself. A +great wave of self-pity seemed to be engulfing her and blotting out +every worthier feeling. + +The prairie was hateful to her that day, its dull gray stretches cruel +and menacing, and a strange fear of it seemed to possess her. + +All day she tried to busy herself about the house, but she worked to no +purpose, taking up things and laying them down again, forgetting what +she was going to do with them; strange whispering voices seemed to +sound in the room behind her, trying to tell her something--to warn +her--and it was in vain that she tried to shake off their influence. +Once or twice she caught a glimpse of a black shadow over her shoulder, +just a reflecting vanishing glimpse, and when she turned hastily round +there was nothing there, but the voices, mocking and gibbering, were +louder than ever. + +She wished Fred would come. She would tell him that she hadn't meant +what she said. + +As the afternoon wore on, and Fred did not make his appearance, a +sudden deadly fear came over her at the thought of staying alone. Of +course the twins occupied the other half of the house, and to-night, at +least, she was glad of their protection. + +Suddenly it occurred to her that she had heard no sound from their +quarters for a long time. She listened and listened, the silence +growing more and more oppressive, until at last, overcoming her fears, +she went around and tried the door. Even the voices of her much- +despised brothers-in-law would be sweet music to her ears. + +The door was locked and there was no response to her knocks. + +An old envelope stuck in a sliver in the door bore the entry in lead- +pencil, "Gone Duck Shooting to Plover Slough," for it was the custom of +the twins to faithfully chronicle the cause of their absence and their +probable location each time they left home, to make it easy to find +them in the event of a cablegram from Aunt Patience's solicitors! + +Evelyn turned away and ran back to her own part of the house. She +hastily barred the door. + +The short autumn day was soon over. The sun broke out from the dull +gray mountain of clouds and threw a yellow glare on the colorless +field. She stood by the window watching the light as it faded and paled +and died, and then the shades of evening quickly gathered. Turning +again to replenish the fire, the darkness of the room startled her. +There was a shadow under the table like a cave's mouth. Unaccustomed +sounds smote her ear; the logs in the house creaked uncannily, and when +she walked across the floor muffled footfalls seemed to follow her. + +She put more wood in the stove and tried to shake off the apprehensions +which were choking her. She lit the lamp and hastily drew down the +white cotton blind and pinned it close to keep out the great pitiless +staring Outside, which seemed to be peering in at her with a dozen +white, mocking, merciless faces. + +In the lamp's dim light the shadows were blacker than ever; the big +packing-box threw a shadow on the wall that was as black as the mouth +of a tunnel in a mountain. + +She noticed that her stock of wood was running low, and with a mighty +effort of the will she opened the door to bring in some from a pile in +the yard. Stopping a minute to muster up her courage, she waited at the +open door. Suddenly the weird cry of a wolf came up from the creek +bank, and it was a bitter, lonely, insistent cry. + +She slammed the door, and coming back into the room, sank weak and +trembling into a chair. A horror grew upon her until the beads of +perspiration stood upon her face. Her hands grew numb and useless, and +the skin of her head seemed stiff and frozen. Her ears were strained to +catch any sound, and out of the silence there came many strange noises +to torment her overstrained senses. + +She thought of Mrs. Corbett at the Stopping-House, and tried to muster +courage to walk the distance, but a terrible fear held her to the spot. + +The fire died out, and the room grew colder and colder, but huddled in +a chair in a panic of fear she did not notice the cold. Her teeth +chattered; spots of light danced before her tightly-shut eyes. She did +not know what she was afraid of; a terrible nameless fear seemed to be +clutching at her very heart. It was the living, waking counterpart of +the nightmare that had made horrible her childhood nights--a gripping, +overwhelming fear of what might happen. + +Suddenly something burst into the room--the terrible something that she +had been waiting for. The silence broke into a thousand screaming +voices. She slipped to the floor and cried out in an agony of terror. + +There was a loud knocking on the door, and then through the horrible +silence that followed there came a voice calling to her not to be +afraid. + +She staggered to the door and unbarred it, and heard someone speak +again in blessed human voice. + +The door opened, and she found herself looking into the face of Rance +Belmont, and her fear-tortured eyes gave him a glad welcome. + +She seized him by the arm, holding to him as a child fear-smitten in +the night will hold fast to the one who comes in answer to his cries. + +Rance Belmont knew how to make the most, yet not too much, of an +advantage. He soothed her fears courteously, gently; he built up the +fire; he made her a cup of tea; there was that strange and subtle +influence in all that he said and did that made her forget everything +that was unpleasant and be happy in his presence. + +A perfect content grew upon her; she forgot her fears--her loneliness-- +her quarrel with Fred; she remembered only the happy company of the +present. + +Under the intoxication of the man's presence she ceased to be the +tired, discouraged, irritable woman, and became once more the Evelyn +Grant whose vivacity and wit had made her conspicuous in the brightest +company. + +She tried to remind herself of some of the unpleasant things that +neighborhood gossip said of Rance Belmont--of Mrs. Corbett's dislike of +him--but in the charm of his presence they all faded into vague +unrealities. + +There was flattery, clever, hidden flattery, which seemed like +adoration, in every word he spoke, every tone of his voice, every +glance of his coal-black eyes, that seemed in some way to atone for the +long, gray, monotonous days that had weighed so heavily upon her +spirits. + +"Are you always frightened when you are left alone?" he asked her. +Every word was a caress, the tone of his voice implying that she should +never be left alone, the magnetism of his presence assuring her that +she would never be left alone again. + +"I was never left alone in the evening before," she said. "I thought I +was very brave until to-night, but it was horrible--it makes me shudder +to think of it." + +"Don't think!" he said gently. + +"Fred thought the twins would be here, I know, or he would not have +stayed away," Evelyn said, wishing to do justice to Fred, and feeling +indefinitely guilty about something. + +"The twins are jolly good company,--oh, I say!" laughed Rance, in tones +so like her brothers-in-law that Evelyn laughed delightedly. It was +lovely to have someone to laugh with. + +"But where are the heavenly twins to-night?" + +"I suppose they saw a flock of ducks going over, or heard the honk-honk +of wild geese," she answered. "It does not take much to distract them +from labor--and they have a soul above it, you know." + +Rance Belmont need not have asked her about the twins; he had met them +on their way to the Plover Slough and had given Reginald the loan of +his gun; he had learned from them that Fred, too, was away. + +"But if dear Aunt Patience will only lift her anchor all will yet be +well, and the dear twins will not need to be bothered with anything so +beastly as farm-work." His tone and manner were so like the twins that +Evelyn applauded his efforts. Then he told her the story of the cow, +and of how the twins, endeavoring to follow the example of some of the +Canadians whom they had seen locking their wagon-wheels with a chain +when going down the Souris hill, had made a slight mistake in the +location of the chain and hobbled the oxen, with disastrous results. + +When he looked at his watch it was nine o'clock. + +"I must go," he said, hastily rising; "it would hardly do for me to be +found here!" + +"What do you mean?" she asked in surprise. + +"What do you suppose your husband would say if he came home and found +me here?" + +Evelyn flushed angrily. + +"My husband has confidence in me," she answered proudly. "I don't know +what he thinks of you, but I know what he thinks of me, and it would +make no difference what company he found me in, he would never doubt +me. I trust him in the same way. I would believe his word against that +of the whole world." + +She held her handsome head high when she said this. + +Rance Belmont looked at her with a dull glow in his black eyes. + +"I hope you are right," he said, watching the color coming in her face. + +"I am right," she said after a pause, daring which she had looked at +him defiantly. He was wise enough to see he had made a false move and +had lost ground in her regard. + +"I think you had better go," she said at last. "I do not like that +insinuation of yours that your presence here might be misconstrued. +Yes, I want you to go. I was glad to see you; I was never so glad to +see anyone; I was paralyzed with fear; but now I am myself again, and I +am sure Fred will come home." + +There was a sneering smile on his face which she understood and +resented. + +"In that case I had better go," he said. + +"That is not the reason I want you to go. I tell you again that Fred +would not believe that I was untrue to him. He believes in me utterly." +She drew herself up with an imperious gesture and added: "I am worthy +of his trust." + +Rance Belmont thought he had never seen her so beautiful. + +"I will not leave you," he declared. "Forgive me for speaking as I did. +I judged your husband by the standards of the world. I might have known +that the man who won you must be different from other men. It was only +for your sake that I said I must go. I care nothing for his fury. If it +were the fury of a hundred men I would stay with you; just to be near +you, to hear your sweet voice, to see you, is heaven to me." + +Evelyn sprang to her feet indignantly as he arose and came towards her. + +Just at that moment the door opened, and Fred Brydon, having heard the +last words, stood face to face with them both! + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +_HIS EVIL GENIUS_. + +When Fred Brydon went to his work that morning, smarting from the angry +words that Evelyn had hurled at him, everyone he met noticed how gloomy +and burdened he seemed to be; how totally unlike his former easy good- +nature and genial cheerfulness was his strange air of reserve. + +They thought they knew the cause, and told each other so when he was +not listening. + +When he came into the kitchen to wash himself at noon he heard one of +the men say to another in an aside: "He'll be the last one to catch +on." + +He paid no particular attention to the sentence at the time, but it +stuck in his memory. + +The day was fine and dry, and the thresher was run at the top of its +speed. One more day would finish the stacks, and as this was the last +threshing to be done in the neighborhood, the greatest effort was put +forth to finish it before the weather broke. + +They urged him to stay the night--they would begin again at daylight-- +the weather was so uncertain. + +He thought, of course, that the twins were safely at home, and Evelyn +had often said that she was not afraid to stay. He had consented to +stay, when all at once the weather changed. + +The clouds had hung low and heavy all day, but after sundown a driving +wind carrying stray flakes of snow began to whistle around the stacks. +The air, too, grew heavy, and a feeling of oppression began to be +evident. + +The pigs ran across the yard carrying a mouthful of straw, and the +cattle crowded into the sheds. Soon the ground was covered with loose +snow, which began to whirl in gentle, playful eddies. The warmth of the +air did not in any way deceive the experienced dwellers on the plain, +who knew that the metallic whistle in the wind meant business. + +The owner of the threshing machine covered it up with canvas, and all +those who had been helping, as soon as they had supper, started to make +the journey to their homes. It looked as if a real Manitoba blizzard +was setting in. + +In spite of the protestations of all the men, Fred did not wait for his +supper, but set out at once on the three-mile walk home. + +Evelyn's hasty words still stung him with the sense of failure and +defeat. If Evelyn had gone back on him what good was anything to him? + +Walking rapidly down the darkening trail, his thoughts were very bitter +and self-reproachful; he had done wrong, he told himself, to bring her +to such a lonely place--it would have been better for Evelyn if she had +never met him--she had given up too much for his sake. + +He noticed through the drifting storm that there was something ahead of +him on the trail, and, quickening his steps, he was surprised to +overtake his two brothers leisurely returning from their duck hunt. + +"Why did you two fellows leave when you knew I was away? You know that +Evelyn will be frightened to be left there all alone." + +Instantly all his own troubles vanished at the thought of his wife left +alone on the wide prairie. + +His brothers strongly objected to his words. + +"We don't 'ave to stay to mind 'er, do we?" sneered Reginald. + +"Maybe she ain't alone, either," broke in Randolph, seeing an +opportunity to turn Fred's wrath in another direction. + +"What are you driving at?" asked Fred in surprise. + +"Maybe Rance Belmont has dropped in again to spend the evenin'--he +usually does when you're away!" + +"You lie!" cried Fred, angrily. + +"We ain't lyin'," declared Randolph. "Everybody knows it only you." + +The words were no sooner said than Fred fell upon him like a madman. +Randolph roared lustily for help, and Reginald valiantly strove to save +him from Fred's fury. But they retreated before him as he rained his +blows upon them both. + +Then Reginald, finding that he was no match for Fred in open conflict, +dodged around behind him, and soon a misty dizziness in his head told +Fred that he had been struck by something heavier than hands. There was +a booming in his ears and he fell heavily to the road. + +The twins were then thoroughly frightened. Here was a dreadful and +unforeseen possibility. + +They stood still to consider what was to be done. + +"It was you done it, remember," said Randolph to Reginald. + +"But I done it to save you!" cried Reginald, indignantly, "and you +can't prove it was me. People can't tell us apart." + +"Anyway," said Reginald, "everybody will blame it on Rance Belmont if +he is killed--and see here, here's the jolly part of it. I'll leave +Rance's gun right beside him. That'll fix the guilt on Rance!" + +"Well, we won't go home; we'll go back and stay in the shootin'-house +at the Slough, and then we can prove we weren't home at all, and +there'll be no tracks by mornin', anyway." + +The twins turned around and retraced their steps through the storm, +very hungry and very cross, but forgetting these emotions in the +presence of a stronger one--fear. + +But Fred was not killed, only stunned by Reginald's cowardly blow. The +soft flakes melting on his face revived him, and sitting up he looked +about him trying to remember where he was. Slowly it all came to him, +and stiff and sore, he got upon his feet. There were no signs of the +twins, but to this Fred gave no thought; his only anxiety was for +Evelyn, left alone on such a wild night. + +When he entered his own house with Rance Belmont's words ringing in his +ears, he stood for a moment transfixed. His brother's words which he +had so hotly resented surged over him now with fatal conviction; also +the words he had heard at the threshing, "He'll be the last one to +catch on," came to him like the flash of lightning that burns and +uproots and destroys. + +His head swam dizzily and lights danced before his eyes. He stood for a +moment without speaking. He was not sure that it wasn't all a horrible +dream. + +If he had looked first at Evelyn, her honest face and flashing eyes +would have put his unworthy suspicions to flight. But Rance Belmont +with his fatal magnetic presence drew his gaze. Rance Belmont stood +with downcast eyes, the living incarnation of guilt. It was all a pose, +of course, but Rance Belmont, with his deadly gift of being able to +make any impression he wished, made a wonderful success of the part he +had all at once decided to play. + +Looking at him, Fred's smouldering jealousy burst into flame. + +There was an inarticulate sound in his throat, and striding forward he +landed a smashing blow on Rance Belmont's averted face. + +"Oh, Fred!" Evelyn cried, springing forward, "for shame!--how could +you!--how dare you!--" + +"Don't talk to me of shame!" Fred cried, his face white with anger. + +"Don't blame her," Rance said in a low voice. He made no attempt to +defend himself. + +In her excitement Evelyn did not notice the sinister significance of +his words and what they implied. She was conscious of nothing only that +Fred had insulted her by his actions, and her wrath grew as terrible as +her husband's. + +She caught him by the shoulder and compelled him to look at her. + +"Fred," she cried, "do you believe--do you dare to believe this +terrible thing?" + +She shook him in her rage and excitement. + +Rance Belmont saw that Fred would be convinced of her innocence if he +did not gain his attention, and the devil in him spoke again, soft, +misleading, lying words, part truth, yet all false, leaving no chance +for denial. + +"Don't blame her--the fault has all been mine," he interposed again. + +In her blind rage again Evelyn missed the significance of his words. +She was conscious of one thought only--Fred had not immediately craved +her pardon. She shook and trembled with uncontrollable rage. + +"I hate you, Fred!" she cried, her voice sounding thin and unnatural. +"I hate you! One minute ago I believed you to be the noblest man on +earth; now I know you for an evil-minded, suspicious, contemptible, +dog!--a dog!--a cur! My father was right about you. I renounce you +forever!" + +She pulled the rings from her finger and flung them against the window, +cracking the glass across. "I will never look on your face again, I +hope. This is my reward, is it, for giving up everything for you? I +boasted of your trust in me a minute ago, but you have shamed me; you +have dragged my honor in the dust, but now I am free--and you may +believe what you please!" + +She turned to Rance Belmont. + +"Will you drive me to Brandon to-night?" she asked. + +She put on her coat and hat without a word or a look at the man, who +stood as if rooted to the ground. + +Then opening the door she went out quickly, and Rance Belmont, with +something like triumph on his black face, quickly followed her, and +Fred Brydon, bruised in body and stricken in soul, was left alone in +his desolate house. + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +_DA'S TURN_. + +The wind was whistling down the Black Creek Valley, carrying heavy +flakes of snow that whirled and eddied around them, as Rance Belmont +and Evelyn made their way to the Stopping-House. The stormy night +accorded well with the turmoil in Evelyn's brain. One point she had +decided--she would go back to her father, and for this purpose she +asked her companion if he would lend her one hundred dollars. This he +gladly consented to do. + +He was discreet enough to know that he must proceed with caution, +though he felt that in getting her separated from her husband and so +thoroughly angry with him that he had made great progress. Now he +believed that if he could get her away from the Stopping-House his +magnetic influence over her would bring her entirely under his power. + +But she had insisted on going in to the Stopping-House to see Mrs. +Corbett and tell her what she was going to do. It was contrary to +Evelyn's straightforwardness to do anything in an under-handed way, and +she felt that she owed it to Mrs. + +Corbett, who had been her staunch friend, to tell her the truth of the +story, knowing that many versions of it would be told. + +Mrs. Corbett was busy setting a new batch of bread, and looked up with +an exclamation of surprise when they walked into the kitchen, white +with snow. It staggered Mrs. Corbett somewhat to see them together at +that late hour, but she showed no surprise as she made Mrs. Brydon +welcome. + +"I am going away, Mrs. Corbett," Evelyn began at once. + +"No bad news from home, is there?" Mrs. Corbett asked anxiously. + +"No bad news from home, but bad news here. Fred and I have quarrelled +and parted forever!" + +Mrs. Corbett drew Evelyn into the pantry and closed the door. She could +do nothing, she felt, with Rance Belmont present. + +"Did you quarrel about him?" she asked, jerking her head towards the +door. + +Evelyn told her story, omitting only Rance Belmont's significant +remarks, which indeed she had not heard. + +Mrs. Corbett listened attentively until she was done. + +"Ain't that just like a man, poor, blunderin' things they are. Sure and +it was just his love for you, honey, that made him break out so +jealous!" + +"Love!" Evelyn broke in scornfully. "Love should include trust and +respect--I don't want love without them. How dare he think that I would +do anything that I shouldn't? Do I look like a woman who would go +wrong?" + +"Sure you don't, honey!" Mrs. Corbett soothed her, "but you know Rance +Belmont is so smooth-tongued and has such a way with him that all men +hate him, and the women like him too well. But what are you goin' to +do, dear? Sure you can't leave your man." + +"I have left him," said Evelyn. "I am going to Brandon now to-night in +time for the early train. Rance Belmont will drive me." + +Something warned Mrs. Corbett not to say all that was in her heart, so +she temporized. + +"Sure, if I were you I wouldn't go off at night--it don't look well. +Stay here till mornin'. The daylight's the best time to go. Don't go +off at night as if you were doin' something you were ashamed of. Go in +broad daylight." + +"What do I care what people say about me?" Evelyn raged again. "They +can't say any worse than my husband believes of me. No--I am going--I +want to put distance between us; I just came in to say good-bye and to +tell you how it happened. I wanted you and Mr. Corbett to know the +truth, for you have been kind friends to me, and I'll never, never +forget you." + +"I'd be afraid you'd never get to Brandon tonight, honey." Mrs. Corbett +held her close, determining in her own mind that she would lock her in +the pantry if there was no other way of detaining her. "Listen to the +wind--sure it's layin' in for a blizzard. I knew that all day. The +roads will be drifted so high you'd never get there, even with the big +pacer. Stay here tonight just to oblige me, and you can go on in the +morning if it's fit." + +Meanwhile John Corbett had been warning Rance Belmont that the weather +was unfit for anyone to be abroad, and the fact that George Sims, the +horse trader from Millford, and Dan Lonsbury, had put in for the night, +made a splendid argument in favor of his doing the same. Rance Belmont +had no desire to face a blizzard unnecessarily, particularly at night, +and the storm was growing thicker every minute. So after consulting +with Evelyn, who had yielded to Mrs. Corbett's many entreaties, he +agreed to remain where he was for the night. Evelyn went at once to the +small room over the kitchen, which Mrs. Corbett kept for special +guests, and as she busied herself about the kitchen Mrs. Corbett could +hear her pacing up and down in her excitement. + +Mrs. Corbett hastily baked biscuits and "buttermilk bread" to feed her +large family, who, according to the state of the weather and the +subsequent state of the roads, might be with her for several days, and +while her hands were busy, her brain was busier still, and being a +praying woman, Maggie Corbett was looking for help in the direction +from which help comes. + +The roaring of the storm as it swept past the house, incessantly +mourning in the mud chimney and sifting the snow against the frosted +windows, brought comfort to her anxious heart, for it reminded her that +dominion and majesty and power belong to the God whom she served. + +When she put the two pans of biscuits in the oven she looked through +the open door into the "Room," where her unusual number of guests were +lounging about variously engaged. + +Rance Belmont smoked cigarettes constantly and shuffled the cards as if +to read his fate therein. He would dearly have loved a game with some +one, for he had the soul of a gambler, but Mrs. Corbett's decree +against card-playing was well known. + +Dan Lonsbury, close beside the table lamp, read a week-old copy of the +Brandon _Times_. George Sims, the horse-dealer, by the light of his own +lantern, close beside him on the bench, pared his corns with minute +attention to detail. + +Under the wall lamp, which was fastened to the window frame, Da +Corbett, in his cretonne-covered barrel-chair of home manufacture, read +the _War Cry_, while Peter Rockett, on his favorite seat, the wood-box, +played one of the Army tunes on his long-suffering Jew's-harp. + +"They can't get away as long as the storm lasts, anyway," Mrs. Corbett +was thinking, thankful even for this temporary respite, "but they'll go +in the mornin' if the storm goes down, and I can't stop them--vain is +the help of man." + +Suddenly Mrs. Corbett started as if she had heard a strange and +disturbing noise; she threw out her hands as if in protest. She sat +still a few moments holding fast to the kitchen table in her +excitement; her eyes glittered, and her breath came short and fast. + +She went hurriedly into the pantry, fearful that her agitation might be +noticed. In her honest soul it seemed to her that her plan, so +terrible, so daring, so wicked, must be sounding now in everybody's +ears. + +In the darkness of the pantry she tried to think it out. Was it an +inspiration from heaven, or was it a suggestion of the devil? One +minute she was imploring Satan to "get thee behind me," and the next +minute she was thanking God and whispering Hallelujahs! A lull in the +storm drove her to immediate action. + +John Corbett came out into the kitchen to see what was burning, for +Maggie had forgotten her biscuits. + +When the biscuits were attended to she took "Da" with her into the +pantry, and she said to him, "Da, is it ever right to do a little wrong +so that good will come of it?" + +She asked the question so impersonally that John Corbett replied +without hesitation: "It is never right, Maggie." + +"But, Da," she cried, seizing the lapel of his coat, "don't you mind +hearin' o' how the priests have given whiskey to the Indians when they +couldn't get the white captives away from them any other way? Wasn't +that right?" + +"Sure and it was; at a time like that it was right to do anything--but +what are you coming at, Maggie?" + +"If Rance Belmont lost all the money he has on him, and maybe ran a bit +in debt, he couldn't go away to-morrow with her, could he? She thinks +he's just goin' to drive her to Brandon, but I know him--he'll go with +her, sure--she can't help who travels on the train with her--and how'll +that look? But if he were to lose his money he couldn't travel dead +broke, could he, Da?" + +"Not very far," agreed Da, "but what are you coming at, Maggie? Do you +want me to go through him?" He laughed at the suggestion. + +"Ain't there any way you can think of, Da--no, don't think--the sin is +mine and I'll take it fair and square on my soul. I don't want you to +be blemt for it--Da, listen--" she whispered in his ear. + +John Corbett caught her in his arms. + +"Would I? Would I? Oh, Maggie, would a duck swim?" he said, keeping his +voice low to avoid being heard in the other room. + +"Don't be too glad, Da; remember it's a wicked thing I'm askin' you to +do; but, Da, are you sure you haven't forgot how?" + +John Corbett laughed. "Maggie, when a man learns by patient toil to +tell the under side of an ace he does not often forget, but of course +there is always the chance, that's the charm of it--nobody can be quite +sure." + +"I've thought of every way I can think of," she said, after a pause, +"and this seems to be the only way. I just wish it was something I +could do myself and not be bringing black guilt on your soul, but maybe +God'll understand. Maybe it was so that you'd be ready for to-night +that He let you learn to be so handy with them. Sure Ma always said +that God can do His work with quare tools; and now, Da, I'll slip off +to bed, and you'll pretend you're stealin' a march on me, and he'll +enjoy himself all the more if he thinks he's spitin' me. Oh, Da, I wish +I knew it was right--maybe it's ruinin' your soul I am, puttin' you up +to such wickedness, but I'll be prayin' for you as hard as I can." + +Da looked worried. "Maggie, I don't know about the prayin'--I was +always able to find the card I needed without bein' prayed for." + +"Oh, I mean I'll pray it won't hurt you. I wouldn't interfere with the +game, for I don't know one card from another, and I'm sure the Lord +don't either, but it's your soul I'm thinkin' of and worried about. +I'll slip down with the green box--there's more'n a hundred dollars in +it. And now good-bye, Da--go at him, and God bless you--and play like +the divil!" + +Mr. John Corbett slowly folded up the _War Cry_ and placed it in his +pocket, and when Maggie brought down the green box with their earnings +in it he emptied its contents in his pocket, and then, softly humming +to himself, he went into the other room. + +The wind raged and the storm roared around the Black Creek Stopping- +House all that night, but inside the fire burned bright in the box- +stove, and an interested and excited group sat around the table where +Rance Belmont and John Corbett played the game! Peter Rockett, with his +eyes bulging from his head, watched his grave employer cut and deal and +gather in the stakes, with as much astonishment as if that dignified +gentleman had walked head downward on the ceiling. Yet John Corbett +proceeded with the game, as grave and solemn as when he asked a +blessing at the table. Sometimes he hummed snatches of Army tunes, and +sometimes Rance Belmont swore softly, and to the anxious ear which +listened at the stovepipe-hole above, both sounds were of surpassing +sweetness! + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +_THE BLIZZARD_. + +When the door closed behind Rance Belmont and Evelyn, Fred sank into a +chair with the whole room whirling dizzily around him. Why had the +world gone so suddenly wrong? + +His head was quite clear now, and only the throbbing hurt on the back +of his head reminded him of Reginald's cowardly blow. But his anger +against his brothers had faded into apathy in the presence of this new +trouble which seemed to choke the very fountains of his being. + +One terrible fact smote him with crushing force--Evelyn had left him +and gone with Rance Belmont. She said she hoped she would never see him +again--that she was done with him--and her eyes had blazed with anger +and hatred--and she had stepped in between him and the miserable +villain whom he would have so dearly loved to have beaten the life out +of. + +He tried to rage against her, but instead he could think of nothing but +her sweet imperiousness, her dazzling beauty, her cheerfulness under +all circumstances, and her loyalty to him. + +She had given up everything for him--for his sake she had defied her +father, renounced all share in his great wealth, suffered the hardships +and loneliness of the prairie, all for him. + +Her workbag lay on the table, partly open. It seemed to call and beckon +to him. He took it tenderly in his hands, and from its folds there fell +a crumpled sheet of paper. He smoothed it out, and found it partly +written on in Evelyn's clear round hand. + +He held it to the light eagerly, as one might read a message from the +dead. Who was Evelyn writing to? + +"_ When you ask me to leave my husband you ask me to do a dishonorable +and cowardly thing. Fred has never_"--the writing ceased abruptly. Fred +read it again aloud, then sprang to his feet with a smothered +exclamation. Only one solution presented itself to his mind. She had +been writing to Rance Belmont trying to withstand his advances, trying +to break away from his devilish influence. She had tried to be true to +herself and to him. + +Fred remembered then with bitter shame the small help he had given her. +He had wronged her when he struck Rance Belmont. + +One overwhelming thought rose out of the chaos of his mind--she must be +set free from the baneful influence of this man. If she were not strong +enough to resist him herself, she must be helped, and that help must +come from him--he had sworn to protect her, and he would do it. + +There was just one way left to him now. Fred's face whitened at the +thought, and his eyes had an unnatural glitter, but there was a deadly +purpose in his heart. + +In his trunk he found the Smith and Wesson that one of the boys in the +office had given him when he left, and which he had never thought of +since. He hastily but carefully loaded it and slipped it into his +pocket. Then reaching for his snowy overcoat, which had fallen to the +floor, and putting the lamp in the window, more from habit than with +any purpose, he went out into the night. + +The storm had reached its height when Fred Brydon, pulling has cap down +over his ears, set out on his journey. It was a wild enough night to +turn any traveller aside from his purpose, but Fred Brydon, in his +rage, had ceased to be a man with a man's fears, a man's frailties, and +had become an avenging spirit, who knew neither cold nor fatigue. A +sudden stinging of his ears made him draw his cap down more closely, +but he went forward at a brisk walk, occasionally breaking into a run. + +He had but one thought in his mind--he must yet save Evelyn. He had +deserted her in her hour of need, but he would yet make amends. + +The wind which sang dismally around him reminded him with a sickening +blur of homesickness of the many pleasant evenings he and Evelyn had +spent in their little shack, with the same wind making eerie music in +the pipe of the stove. Yesterday and to-day were separated by a gulf as +wide as death itself. + +He had gone about three miles when he heard a faint halloo come down +the wind. It sounded two or three times before the real significance of +it occurred to him, so intent was he upon his own affairs. But louder +and more insistent came the unmistakable call for help. + +A fierce temptation assailed Fred Brydon. He must not delay--every +minute was precious--to save Evelyn, his wife, was surely more his duty +than to set lost travellers on their way again. Besides, he told +himself, it was not a fiercely cold night--there was no great danger of +any person freezing to death; and even so, were not some things more +vital than saving people from death, which must come sooner or later? +Then down the wind came the cry again--a frightened cry--he could hear +the words--"Help! help! for God's sake!" Something in Fred Brydon's +heart responded to that appeal. He could not hurry by unheeding. + +Guided by the calls, he turned aside from his course and made his way +through the choking storm across the prairie. + +The cries came nearer, and Fred shouted in reply--words of impatient +encouragement. No rescuer ever went to his work with a worse grace. + +A large, dark object loomed faintly through the driving storm. + +"What's the matter?" called Fred, when he was within speaking distance. + +"I'm caught--tangled up in some devilish thing," came back the cry. + +Fred hurried forward, and found a man, almost covered with snow, +huddled beside a haystack, his clothing securely held by the barbs of +the wire with which the stack was fenced. + +"You're stuck in the barbed wire," said Fred, as he removed his mittens +and with a good deal of difficulty released the man from the close grip +of the barbs. + +"I hired a livery-man at Brandon to bring me out, and his bronchos +upset us and got away from him. He walked them the whole way--the roads +were heavy--and then look at what they did! I came over here for +shelter--the driver ran after the team, and then these infernal +fishhooks got hold of me--what are they, anyway?" + +Fred explained. + +"This is surely a God-forsaken country that can jerk a storm like this +on you in November," the older man declared, as Fred carefully dusted +the snow off him, wondering all the time what he was going to do with +him. + +"Where are you going?" Fred asked, abruptly. + +"I want to get to the Black Creek Stopping-House. How far am I from +there now?" + +"About three miles," said Fred. + +"Well, I guess I can walk that far if you'll show me the road." + +Fred hesitated. + +"I am going to Brandon," he said. + +"What is any sane man going to Brandon to-night for?" the stranger +cried, impatiently. "Great Scott! I thought I was the only man who was +a big enough fool to be out to-night. The driver assured me of that +several times. I guess there's a woman in the case with you, too." + +"Did you meet anyone?" Fred asked, quickly. "Not a soul! I tell you +you and I are the only crazy ones to-night." + +Fred considered a minute. + +"I'll take you on your way," he said. + +The stranger suddenly remembered something. "I'm a good bit obliged to +you, young man, whoever you are. I guess I'd have been here all night +if you hadn't come along and heard me. I was beginning to get chilly, +too. Is this a blizzard?" + +"Yes, I guess it is," Fred answered, shortly, "and it's not improving +any, so I guess we had better hurry on." + +It was much easier going with the wind, and at first the older man, +helped along by Fred, made good progress. Fred knew that every minute +the drifts were growing higher and the road harder to keep. + +The night grew colder and darker, and the storm seemed to thicken. + +"Pretty hard going for an old man of sixty," the stranger said, +stopping to get his breath. The storm seemed to choke him. + +Soon he begged to be let rest, and when Fred tried to start him again +he experienced some difficulty. The cold was getting into his very +bones, and was causing a fatal drowsiness. + +Fred told him this and urged him to put forth his greatest efforts. +They were now but a mile from Fred's house. Every few minutes the light +in the window glimmered through the storm, the only ray of light in the +maze of whirling snow which so often thickened and darkened and blotted +it out altogether. + +When they were about half a mile from the house, the old man, without +warning, dropped into the snow and begged Fred to go on without him. He +was all right, he declared, warm and comfortable, and wanted to rest. + +"You'll freeze to death!" Fred cried. "That's the beginning of it." + +"Feel very comfortable," the old man mumbled. + +Fred coaxed, reasoned, entreated, but all in vain. He shook the old +man, scolded, threatened, but all to no purpose. + +There was only one thing to be done. + +Fred threw off his own coat, which was a heavy one, and picked the old +man up, though he was no light weight, and set off with him. + +But the man objected to being carried, and, squirming vigorously, +slipped out of Fred's arms, and once more declared his intention of +sleeping in the snow. + +With his frozen mitten Fred dealt him a stinging blow on the cheek +which made him yell with pain and surprise. + +"Do what I tell you!" cried Fred. + +The blow seemed to rouse him from his stupor, and he let Fred lead him +onward through the storm. + +When they arrived at Fred's house he put the old man in a rocking- +chair, first removing his snowy outer garments, and made sure that he +had no frost-bites. Then hastily lighting the fire, which had burned +itself out, he made coffee and fried bacon. + +When the old man had taken a cup of the coffee he began to take an +interest in his surroundings. + +"How did I get here?" he asked. "The last thing I remember I was +sitting down, feeling very drowsy, and someone was bothering me to get +up. Did I get up?" + +"Not until I lifted you," said Fred. + +"Did you carry me?" the other man asked in surprise. + +"I did until you kicked and squirmed so I couldn't hold you." + +"What did you do then?" queried his visitor, tenderly feeling his sore +cheek. + +"I slapped you once, but you really deserved far more," said Fred, +gravely. + +"What did I do then?" + +"You got up and behaved yourself so nicely I was sorry that I hadn't +slapped you sooner!" + +The old man laughed to himself without a sound. + +"What's your name?" he asked. + +While this dialogue had been in progress Fred had been studying his +companion closely, with a growing conviction that he knew him. He was +older, grayer, and of course the storm had reddened his face, but Fred +thought he could not be mistaken. + +The old man repeated the question. + +"Brown!" said Fred, shortly, giving the first name he could think of. + +"You're a strapping fine young fellow, Brown, even if you did hit me +with your hard mitt, and I believe I should be grateful to you." + +"Don't bother," said Fred shortly. + +"I will bother," the old man cried, imperiously, with a gesture of his +head that Fred knew well; "I will bother, and my daughter will thank +you, too." + +"Your daughter!" Fred exclaimed, turning his back to pick out another +stick for the stove. + +"Yes, my girl, my only girl--it's her I came to see. She's living near +here. I guess you'd know her: she's married to a no-good Englishman, a +real lizzie-boy, that wouldn't say boo to a goose!" + +Fred continued to fix the fire, poking it unnecessarily. He was +confident that Evelyn's father would not recognize him with his crop of +whiskers and sunburnt face. His mind was full of conflicting emotions. + +"Maybe you know him," said the old man. "His name is Brydon. They live +somewhere near the Stopping-House." + +"I've not lived here long," said Fred, evasively, "but I've heard of +them." + +The comfort and security of the warm little shack, as well as the good +meal Fred had given him, had loosened the old man's tongue. + +"I never liked this gent. I only saw him once, but it don't take me +long to make up my mind. He carried a cane and had his monogram on his +socks--that was enough for me--and a red tie on him, so red you'd think +his throat was cut. I says to myself, I don't want that shop window +Judy round my house,' but Evelyn thought he was the best going. Funny +thing that that girl was the very one to laugh at dudes before that, +but she stuck it out that he was a fine chap. She's game, all right, my +girl is. She stays right with the job. I wrote and told her to come on +back and I'd give her every cent I have--but she pitched right into me +about not asking Fred. Here's her letter. Oh, she's a spunky one!" He +was fumbling in his pockets as he spoke. Drawing out a long pocketbook, +he took out a letter. He deliberately opened the envelope and read. +Fred with difficulty held back his hand from seizing it. + +"Listen to this how she lit into me: 'When you ask me to leave my +husband you ask me to do a dishonorable thing--'" + +Fred heard no more--he hung on to the seat of his chair with both +hands, breathing hard, but the old man took no notice of him and read +on: + +"'Fred is in every way worthy of your respect, but you have been +utterly unjust to him from the first. I will enjoy poverty and +loneliness with him rather than endure every pleasure without him.'" + +Fred's world had suddenly righted itself--he saw it all now--this was +the man she was writing to--this was the man who had tried to induce +her to leave him. + +"I haven't really anything against this Fred chap--maybe his clothes +were all right. I was brought up in the lumber business, though, and I +don't take to flowered stockings and monograms--I kept wondering how +he'd look in overalls! What was really wrong with me--and you'll never +know how it feels until you have a girl of your own, and she leaves +you--was that I was jealous of the young gent for taking my girl when +she was all I had." + +Fred suddenly understood many things; a fellow feeling for the old man +filled his heart, and in a flash he saw the past in an entirely +different light. + +He broke out impetuously, "She thinks of you the same as ever, I know +she does--" then, seeing his mistake, he said, "I know them slightly, +and I've heard she was lonely for you." + +"Then why didn't she tell me? She has always kept up these spunky +letters to me, and said she was happy, and all that--she liked to live +here, she said. What's this Fred fellow like?" The old man leaned +toward him confidentially. + +"Oh, just so-so," Fred answered, trying to make the stove take more +wood than it was ever intended to take. "I never had much use for him, +and I know people wondered what she saw in him." + +The old man was glad to have his opinion sustained, and by a local +authority, too. + +"It wasn't because he hadn't money that I objected to him--it wasn't +that, for I have a place in my business where I need a smart, up-to- +date chap, and I'd have put him there quick, but he didn't seem to have +any snap in him--too polite, you know--the kind of a fellow that would +jump to pick up a handkerchief like as if he was shot out of a gun. I +don't care about money, but I like action. Now, if she had taken a +fancy to a brown-faced chap like you I wouldn't have cared if he hadn't +enough money to make the first payment on a postage stamp. I kinda +liked the way you let fly at me when I was acting contrary with you out +there in the storm. But, tell me, how does this Fred get on? Is he as +green as most Englishmen?" + +"He's green enough," Fred agreed, "but he's not afraid of work. But +come now, don't you want to go to bed? I can put you up for the night, +what there's left of it; it's nearly morning now." + +The old man yawned sleepily, and was easily persuaded to go to bed. + +When the old man was safely out of the way Fred put his revolver back +where he had found it. The irony of the situation came home to him--he +had gone out to kill, but in a mysterious way it had been given to him +to save instead of take life. But what good was anything to him now?-- +the old man had come one day too late. + +At daylight, contrary to all expectations, the storm went down, only +the high packed drifts giving evidence of the fury of the night before. + +As soon as the morning came Fred put on his father-in-law's coat, +having left his in the snow, and went over to the Black Creek Stopping- +House. Mrs. Corbett was the only person who could advise him. + +He walked into the kitchen, which was never locked, just as Mrs. +Corbett, carrying her boots in her hand as if she were afraid of +disturbing someone, came softly down the stairs. + +Mrs. Corbett had determined to tell Fred what a short-sighted, jealous- +minded man he was when she saw him, but one look at his haggard face-- +for the events of the previous night were telling on him now--made her +forget that she had any feeling toward him but sympathy. She read the +question in his eyes which his lips were afraid to utter. + +"She's here, Fred, safe and sound," she whispered. + +"Oh, Mrs. Corbett," he whispered in return, "I've been an awful fool! +Did she tell you? Will she ever forgive me, do you think?" + +"Ask her!" said Mrs. Corbett, pointing up the narrow stairs. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +_WHEN THE DAY BROKE_. + +All night long the tide of fortune ebbed and flowed around the table +where Rance Belmont and John Corbett played the game which is still +remembered and talked of by the Black Creek old settlers when their +thoughts run upon old times. + +Just as the daylight began to show blue behind the frosted panes, and +the yellow lamplight grew pale and sickly, Rance Belmont rose and +stretched his stiffened limbs. + +"I am sorry to bring such a pleasant gathering to an end," he said, +with his inscrutable smile, "but I believe I am done." He was searching +through his pockets as he spoke. "Yes, I believe the game is over." + +"You're a mighty good loser, Rance," George Sims declared with +admiration. + +The other men rose, too, and went out to feed their horses, for the +storm was over and they must soon be on the road. + +When John Corbett and Rance Belmont went out into the kitchen, Maggie +Corbett was chopping up potatoes in the frying-pan with a baking-powder +can, looking as fresh and rested as if she had been asleep all night, +instead of holding a lonely vigil beside a stovepipe-hole. + +John Corbett advanced to the table and solemnly deposited the green box +thereon; then with painstaking deliberation he arranged the contents of +his pockets in piles. Rance Belmont's watch lay by itself; then the +bills according to denomination; last of all the silver and a slip of +brown paper with writing on it in lead-pencil. + +When all was complete, he nodded to Maggie to take charge of the +proceedings. + +Maggie hastily inspected the contents of the green box, and having +satisfied herself that it was all there, she laid it up, high and dry, +on the clock shelf. + +Then she hastily looked at the piles and read the slip of brown paper, +which seemed to stand for one sorrel pacer, one cutter, one set single +harness, two goat robes. + +"Rance," said Maggie, slowly, "we don't want a cent that don't belong +to us. I put Da at playing with you in the hope he would win all away +from you that you had, for we were bound to stop you from goin' away +with that dear girl if it could be done, and we knew you couldn't go +broke; but now you can't do any harm if you had all the money in the +world, for she's just gone home a few minutes ago with her man." + +Rance Belmont started forward with a smothered oath, which Mrs. Corbett +ignored. + +"So take your money and horse and all, Rance. It ain't me and Da would +keep a cent we haven't earned. Take it, Rance"--shoving it toward him-- +"there's no hard feelin's now, and good luck to you! Sure, I guess Da +enjoyed the game, and it seems he hadn't forgot the way." Maggie +Corbett could not keep a small note of triumph out of her voice. + +Rance Belmont gathered up the money without a word, and, putting on his +cap and overcoat, he left the Black Creek Stopping-House. John Corbett +carried the green box upstairs and put it carefully back in its place +of safety, while Maggie Corbett carefully peppered and salted the +potatoes in the pan. + + * * * * * + +When Robert Grant, of the Imperial Lumber Company, of Toronto, wakened +from his slumber it was broad daylight, and the yellow winter sun +poured in through the frosted panes. The events of the previous night +came back to him by degrees; the sore place on his face reminding him +of the slight difference of opinion between himself and his new friend, +young Mr. Brown. + +"Pretty nice, tasty room this young fellow has," he said to himself, +looking around at the many evidences of daintiness and good taste. +"He's a dandy fine young fellow, that Brown. I could take to him +without half trying." + +Then he became conscious of low voices in the next room. + +"Hello, Brown!" he called. + +Fred appeared in the doorway with a smiling face. + +"How do you feel this morning, Mr. Grant?" he asked. + +"I feel hungry," Mr. Grant declared. "I want some more of your good +prairie cooking. If I get another meal of it I believe I'll be able to +make friends with my son-in-law. When are you going to let me get up?" + +Just then there was a rustle of skirts and Evelyn came swiftly into the +room. + +"Oh, father! father!" she cried, kissing the old man over and over +again. "You will forgive me, won't you?" + +The old man's voice was husky with happy tears. + +"I guess we won't talk about forgiveness, dearie--we're about even, I +think--but we've had our lesson. I've got my girl back--and, Evelyn, I +want you and Fred to come home with me for Christmas and forever. +You've got the old man solid, Evelyn. I couldn't face a Christmas +without you." + +Evelyn kissed him again without speaking. + +"I will apologize to your man, Evelyn," the old man said, after a +pause. "I haven't treated the boy right. I hope he won't hold it +against me." + +"Not a bit of it," declared Evelyn. "You don't know Fred--that's all." + +"Oh, how did you get here, Evelyn? Do you live near here? I have been +so glad to see you I forgot to ask." + +"Mr. Brown brought me over," said Evelyn, unblushingly. "He came over +early this morning to tell me you were here. Wasn't it nice of him?" + +"He's a dandy fellow, this young Brown," said the old man, and then +stopped abruptly. + +Evelyn's eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter. + +"But where is Fred?" her father asked, with an effort, and Evelyn +watched him girding himself for a painful duty. + +"I'll call him," she said, sweetly. + +The old man's grey eyes grew dark with excitement and surprise as his +friend Brown came into the room and stood beside Evelyn and quite +brazenly put his left arm around her waist. His face was a study in +emotions as his quick brain grasped the situation. With a prolonged +whistle he dropped back on the pillow, and pulling the counterpane over +his face he shook with laughter. + +"The joke is all on me," he cried. "I have been three or four different +kinds of a fool." + +Then he emerged from the bed-clothes and, sitting up, grasped Fred's +outstretched hand. + +"There's one thing, though, I am very proud of, Fred," he said; "I may +not be a good judge of humanity myself, but I am glad to know that my +girl had all her wits about her when she went to pick out a man for +herself!" + +Randolph and Reginald stayed in hiding until it was established beyond +all doubt that their brother Fred was alive and well. Then they came +back to the "Sailors' Rest," and life for them went on as before. + +At Christmas time a bulky letter and a small white box came addressed +to them, bearing the postmark of Bournemouth. + +The brothers seized their letter with undiluted joy; it was addressed +in a bold, masculine hand, a lawyer's undoubtedly--a striking though +perhaps not conclusive proof that Aunt Patience had winged her flight. + +They were a little bit disappointed that it had not black edges--they +had always imagined that the "blow" would come with black edges. + +Reginald opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor. + +Randolph opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor. + +It contained a thick announcement card, with heavy gold edge, and the +news that it carried was to the effect that on December the first Miss +Priscilla Abigail Patience Brydon had been united in marriage to Rev. +Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland, Rector of St. Albans, Tilbury-on- +the-Stoke, and followed this with the information that Mr. and Mrs. +Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland would be at home after January the +first in the Rectory, Appleblossom Court, Parklane Road, Tilbury-on- +the-Stoke. + +The envelope also contained a sweetly happy, fluttery little note from +Aunt Patience, saying she hoped they were well, and that she would try +to be a good mother to the Rector's four little boys. + +The small white box contained two squares of wedding cake! + + + + + + +THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Globe_, Toronto.) + +George Shaw came back to his desolate hearth, and, sitting by the +untidy table, thought bitter things of women. The stove dripped ashes; +the table overflowed with dirty dishes. + +His last housekeeper had been gone a week--she had left by request. +Incidentally there disappeared at the same time towels, pillow-covers, +a few small tools, and many other articles which are of a size to go in +a trunk. + +His former housekeeper, second to the last, had been a teary-eyed +English lady, who, as a child, had played with King George, and was +well beloved by all the Royal family. She had a soul above work, and +utterly despised Canadians. Once, when her employer remonstrated with +her for wearing his best overcoat when she went to milk, she fell +a-weeping and declared she wasn't going to be put on. Mr. Shaw said the +same thing about his coat, and it led to unpleasantness. The next day +he found her picking chips in his brown derby, and when he expressed +his disapproval she told him it was no fit hat for a young man like +him--he should have a topper. Mr. Shaw decided that he would try to do +without her. + +Before that he had had a red-cheeked Irishwoman, who cooked so well, +scrubbed so industriously, that he had thought his troubles were all +over. But one day she went to Millford, and came home in a state of +wild exhilaration, with more of the same in a large black bottle. When +Mr. Shaw came to put away the horse, she struck him over the head with +her handbag, playfully blackening one of his eyes, and then begged him +to come and make up--"kiss and forgit, like the swate pet that he was." + +Exit Mrs. Murphy. + +George Shaw decided to do his own cooking, but in three days every dish +in the house was dirty; the teapot was full of leaves, the stove full +of ashes, and the floor was slippery. + +George Shaw's farm lay parallel with the Souris River in that fertile +region which lies between the Brandon and the Tiger Hills. His fields +ran an unbroken mile, facing the Tiger Hills, blue with mist. He was a +successful young farmer, and he should have been a happy man without a +care in the world, but he did not look it as he sat wearily by his red +stove, with the deep furrows of care on his young face. + +The busy time was coming on; he needed another man, and he did hate +trying to do the cooking himself. + +As a last hope he decided to advertise. He hunted up his writing-pad +and wrote hastily: + +"Housekeeper wanted by a farmer; must be sober and steady. Good wages +to the right person. Apply to George Shaw, Millford, Man." + +He read it over reflectively. "There ought to be someone for me," he +said. "I am not hard to please. Any good, steady old lady who will give +me a bite to eat, not swear at me or wear my clothes or drink while on +duty will answer my purpose." + +Two days after his advertisement had appeared in the Brandon _Times_, +"she" arrived. + +Shaw saw a smart-looking woman gaily tripping along the road, and his +heart failed. + +As she drew near, however, he was relieved to find that her hair was +snowy white. + +"Good evening, Mr. Shaw!" she called to him as soon as she was within +speaking distance. + +"Good evening, madam," he replied, lifting his hat. + +"I just asked along the road until I found you," she said, untying her +bonnet strings; "I knew this lonesome little house must be the place. +No trees, no flowers, no curtains, no washing on the line--I could tell +there was no woman around." She was fixing her hair at his little glass +as she spoke. "Now, son, run out and get a few chips for the fire, and +we'll have a bite of supper in a few minutes." + +Shaw brought the chips. + +"Now, what do you say to pancakes for supper?" + +Shaw declared that nothing would suit him so well as pancakes. + +The fire crackled merrily under the kettle, and soon the two of them +were sitting down to an appetizing meal of pancakes and syrup, boiled +eggs and tea. + +"Land sakes, George, you must have had your own time with those +housekeepers of yours! Some of them drank, eh? I could tell that by the +piece you put in the paper. But never mind them now; I'll soon have you +feeling fine as silk. How's your socks? Toes out, I'll bet. Well, I'll +hunt you up a pair, if there's any to be found. If I can't find any you +can go to bed when you get your chores done, and I'll wash out them +you've on--I can't bear my men folks to have their toes out; a hole in +the heel ain't so bad, it's behind you and you can forget it, but a +hole in the toe is always in your way no matter which way you're +going." + +After supper, when Shaw was out doing his chores, he could see her +bustling in and out of the house; now she was beating his bedclothes on +the line; in another minute she was leaning far out of a bedroom window +dusting a pillow. + +When he came into the house she reported that her search for stockings, +though vigorous, had been vain. He protested a little about having to +go to bed when the sun was shining, but she insisted. + +"I'm sorry, George," she said, "to have to make you go to bed, but it's +the only thing we can do. You'll find your bed feels a lot better since +I took the horse collar and the pair of rubber boots out from under the +mattress. That's a poor place to keep things. Good-night now--don't +read lying down." + +When he went upstairs Shaw noticed with dismay that his lamp had gone +from the box beside his bed. So he was not likely to disobey her last +injunction--at least, not for any length of time. + +Just at daylight the next morning there came a knock at his door. + +"Come, George--time to get up!" + +When he came in from feeding his horses a splendid breakfast was on the +table. + +"Here's your basin, George; go out and have a good wash. Here's your +comb; it's been lost for quite awhile. I put a towel out there for you, +too. Hurry up now and get your vittles while they are nice!" + +When Shaw came to the table she regarded him with pleasure. + +"You're a fine-looking boy, George, when you're slicked up," she said. +"Now bow your head until we say grace! There, now pitch in and tell me +how you like grandma's cooking." + +Shaw ate heartily and praised everything. + +A few days afterwards she said, "Now, George, I guess I'll have to ask +you to go to town and get some things we need for the house." + +Shaw readily agreed, and took out his paper and pencil. + +"Soap, starch, ten yards of cheesecloth--that's for curtains," she +said. "I'll knit lace for them, and they'll look real dressy; toilet +soap, sponge and nailbrush--that's for your bath, George; you haven't +been taking them as often as you should, or the hoops wouldn't have +come off your tub. You can't cheat Nature, George; she always tells on +you. Ten yards flannelette--that's for night-shirts; ten yards +sheeting--that's for your bed--and your white shirts are pretty far +gone." + +"How do you know?" he asked in surprise; "they are all in my trunk." + +"Yes, I know, and the key is in that old cup on the stand, and I know +how to unlock a trunk, don't I?" she replied with dignity. "You need +new shirts all right, but just get one. I never could abear them +boughten shirts, they are so skimpy in the skirt; I'll make you some +lovely ones, with blue and pink flossin' down the front." + +He looked up alarmed. + +"Then about collars," she went on serenely. "You have three, but +they're not in very good shape, though, of course, you couldn't expect +anything better of them, kept in that box with the nails--oh, I found +them, George, you needn't look so surprised. You see I know something +about boys--I have three of my own." A shadow passed over her face and +she sighed. "Well, I guess that is all for to-day. Be sure to get your +mail and hurry home." + +"Shall I tell the postmaster to put your mail in my box?" he asked. + +"Oh, no, never mind--I ain't expectin' any," she said, and Shaw drove +away wondering. + +A few nights after she said, "Well, George, I suppose you are wonderin' +now who this old lady is, though I am not to say real old either." + +"Indeed you are not old," Shaw declared with considerable gallantry; +"you are just in your prime." + +She regarded him gratefully. "You're a real nice boy, George," she +said, "and there ain't going to be no secrets between us. If you wet +your feet, or tear your clothes, don't try to hide it. Don't keep +nothing from me and I won't keep nothing from you. Now I'll tell you +who I am and all about it. I am Mrs. Peter Harris, of Owen Sound, +Ontario, and I have three sons here in the West. They've all done well, +fur as money goes. I came up to visit them. I came from Bert's here. I +couldn't stand the way Bert's folks live. Mind you, they burn their +lights all night, and they told me it doesn't cost a cent more. Land o' +liberty! They can't fool me. If lights burn, someone pays--and the +amount of hired help they keep is something scandalous. Et, that is +Bert's wife, is real smart, and they have two hired girls, besides +their own two girls, and they get in a woman to wash besides. I wanted +them to let the two girls go while I was there, but no, sir! Et says, +'Grandma, you didn't come here to work, you must just rest.' They +wouldn't let me do a thing, and that brazen hired girl--the housemaid, +they call her--one day even made my bed; and, mind you, George, she put +the narrow hem on the sheet to the top, and she wasn't a bit ashamed +when I told her. She said she hoped it didn't make me feel that I was +standin' on my head all night; and the way that woman hung out the +clothes was a perfect scandal!" Her voice fell to an awed whisper. "She +hangs the underwear in plain sight. I ain't never been used to the like +of that! I could not stay. Bert is kind enough, so is Et, and they have +one girl, Maud, that I really do like. She is twenty-one, but, of +course, brought up the way she has been, she is awful ignorant for that +age. Mind you, that girl had never turned the heel of a stocking until +I got her at it, but Maud can learn. I'd take that girl quick, and +bring her up like my own, if Bert would let me. Well, anyway, I could +not put up with the way they live, and I just ran away." + +"You ran away!" echoed Shaw. "They'll be looking for you!" + +"Let 'em look!" said the old lady, grimly. "They won't ever find me +here." + +"I'll hide you in the haymow, and if they come in here to search for +you I'll declare I never knew you--I am prepared to do desperate +things," Shaw declared. + +"George, if they ever get in here--that is, Et anyway--she'll know who +did the fixin' up. There ain't many that know how to do this Rocky Road +to Dublin that is on your lounge. Et would know who'd been here." + +"That settles it!" declared Shaw. "Et shall not enter. If Et gets in it +shall be over my prostrate form, but maybe it would be better for you +to take the Rocky Road with you to the hayloft!" + +The old lady laughed heartily. "Ain't we happy, George, you and me? +I've tried all my own, and they won't let me have one bit of my own +way. Out at Edward's--he's a lawyer at Regina--I tried to get them all +to go to bed at half-past ten--late enough, too, for decent people--and +didn't Edward's wife get real miffed over it? And then I went to Tom's +--he's a doctor down at Winnipeg, but he's all gone to politics; he was +out night after night makin' speeches, and he had a young fellow +lookin' after his practice who wouldn't know a corn from a gumboil only +they grow in different places. Tom's pa and me spent good money on his +education, and it's hard for us to see him makin' no use of it. He was +nice enough to me, wanted me to stay and be company for Edith, but I +told him he should try to be company for Edith himself. Well, he didn't +get elected--that's one comfort. I believe it was an answer to prayer. +Maybe he'll settle down to his doctorin' now. Then I went to Bert's, +and I soon saw I could not stay there. Just as soon as I saw your +little bit in the paper, I says, 'The Lord has opened a door!' I gave +Maud a hint that I would clear out some day and go where I would be let +work, and the dear child says to me, 'Grandma, if I ever get a house of +my own you can come and live with me, and you can do every bit of the +work, and everyone will have to do just what you say; they'll have to +go to bed at sundown if you say so.' Maud's the best one I have +belongin' to me. She'll give them a hint that I'm all right." + +But Shaw was apprehensive. He knew who Bert was, and he had +uncomfortable visions of Mr. Albert Harris driving up to his door some +day and demanding that Mrs. Peter Harris, his mother, immediately come +home with him; and the fear and dread of former housekeepers swept over +George Shaw's soul. No, he would not give her up! Of course, there were +times when he thought she was rather exacting, and when he felt some +sympathy for Edward's wife forgetting "miffed." + +When she was with him about a week she announced that he must have a +daily bath! "It is easier to wash you than the bed-clothes, that's one +reason," she said, "and it's good for you besides. That's what's wrong +with lots of young boys; they git careless and dirty, and then they +take to smoking and drinking just natcherally. A clean hide, mind you, +is next to a clean heart. Now go along upstairs; everything is ready +for you." + +Henceforth there was no danger of the hoops falling off the tub, for it +was in daily use, and, indeed, it was not many nights until George Shaw +looked forward with pleasure to his nightly wash. + +The old lady's face glowed with pleasure as she went about her work, or +sat sewing in the shade of the house. At her instigation Shaw had put +up a shed for his machinery, which formerly had littered the yard, and +put his wood in even piles. + +The ground fell away in a steep ravine, just in front of the house, and +pink wild roses and columbine hung in profusion over the spring which +gushed out of the bank. Away to the east were the sand-hills of the +Assiniboine--the bad lands of the prairie, their surface peopled with +stiff spruce trees that stand like sentries looking, always looking out +across the plain! + +Mrs. Harris often sat with her work in the shade of the house, on +pleasant afternoons, looking at this peaceful scene, and her heart was +full of gladness and content. + +The summer passed pleasantly for George Shaw and his cheery old +housekeeper. Not a word did they hear from "Bert's" folks. + +"I would like to see Maud," Mrs. Harris said one night to Shaw as she +sat knitting a sock for him beside their cheerful fireside. He was +reading. + +"What is Maud like?" he asked. + +"Maud favors my side of the house," she answered. "She's a pretty good- +looking girl, very much the hi'th and complexion I used to be when I +was her age. You'd like Maud fine if you saw her, George." + +"I don't want to see her," Shaw replied, "for I am afraid that the +coming of Maud might mean the departure of Grandma, and that would be a +bad day for me." + +"I ain't goin' to leave you, George, and I believe Maud would be +reasonable if she did come! She'd see how happy we are!" + +It was in the early autumn that Maud came. The grain had all been cut +and stacked, and was waiting for the thresher to come on its rounds. +Shaw was ploughing in the field in front of his house when Maud came +walking briskly up the road just as her grandmother had done four +months before! The trees in the poplar grove beside the road were +turning red and yellow with autumn, and Maud, in her red-brown suit and +hat, looked as if she belonged to the picture. + +Some such thought as this struggled in Shaw's brain and shone in his +eyes as he waited for her at the headland. + +He raised his hat as she drew near. Maud went right into the subject. + +"Have you my grandmother?" she asked. + +Shaw hesitated--the dreaded moment had come. Visions of former +housekeepers--dirty dishes, unmade bed, dust, flies, mice--rose before +him and tempted him to say "no," but something stronger and better, +perhaps it was the "clean hide" prompting the clean heart, spoke up in +him. + +"I have your grandmother," he said slowly, "and she is very well and +happy." + +"Will you give her up?" was Maud's next question. + +"Never!" he answered stoutly; "and she won't give me up, either. Your +grandmother and I are very fond of each other, I would like you to +know--but come in and see her." + +That night after supper, which proved to be a very merry meal in spite +of the shadow which had fallen across the little home, Mrs. Harris said +almost tearfully: "I can't leave this pore lamb, Maud--there's no +knowin' what will happen to him." + +"I will go straight back to the blanket and dog soup," Shaw declared +with cheerful conviction. "You can't imagine the state things were in +when your grandmother came--bed not made since Christmas, horsenails +for buttons, comb and brush lost but not missed, wash basin rusty! Your +grandmother, of course, has been severe with me--she makes me go to bed +before sundown. Yet I refuse to part with her. Who takes your +grandmother takes me; and now, Miss Maud, it is your move!" + +That night when they sat in the small sitting-room with a bright fire +burning in the shining stove, Maud felt her claim on her grandmother +growing more and more shadowy. Mrs. Harris was in a radiant humor. She +was knitting lace for the curtains, and chatted gaily as she worked. + +"You see, Maud, I am never lonely here; it's a real heartsome place to +live. There's the trains goin' by twice a day, and George here is a +real good hand to read out to me. We're not near done with the book +we're reading, and I am anxious to see if Adam got the girl. He was set +on havin' her, but some of her folks were in for makin' trouble." + +"Folks sometimes do!" said Shaw, meaningly. + +"Well, I can't go until we finish the book," the old lady declared, +"and we see how the story comes out, and I don't believe Maud is the +one to ask it." + +Maud made a pretty picture as she sat with one shapely foot on the +fender of the stove, the firelight dancing on her face and hair. Shaw, +looking at her, forgot the errand on which she came--forgot everything +only that she was there. + +"Light the lamp and read a bit of the book now," Mrs. Harris said. +"Maud'll like it, I know. She's the greatest girl for books!" + +Shaw began to read. It was "The Kentucky Cardinal" he read, that +exquisite love-story, that makes us lovers all, even if we never have +been, or worse still, have forgotten. Shaw loved the book, and read it +tenderly, and Maud, leaning back in her chair, found her heart warmed +with a sudden great content. + +A week later Shaw and Maud walked along the river bank and discussed +the situation. Autumn leaves carpeted the ground beneath their feet, +and the faint murmur of the river below as it slipped over its pebbly +bed came faintly to their ears. In the sky above them, wild geese with +flashing white wings honked away toward the south, and a meadow lark, +that jolly fellow who comes early and stays late, on a red-leafed +haw-tree poured out his little heart in melody. + +"You see, Mr. Shaw," Maud was saying, "it doesn't look right for +Grandma to be living with a stranger when she has so many of her own +people. I know she is happy with you--happier than she has been with +any of us--but what will people think? It looks as if we didn't care +for her, and we do. She is the sweetest old lady in the world." Maud +was very much in earnest. + +Shaw's eyes followed the wild geese until they faded into tiny specks +on the horizon. Then he turned and looked straight into her face. + +"Maud," he said, with a strange vibration in his voice, "I know a way +out of the difficulty; a real good, pleasant way, and by it your +grandmother can continue to live with me, and still be with her own +folks. Maud, can you guess it?" + +The blush that spread over Maud's face indicated that she was a good +guesser! + +Then the meadow-lark, all unnoticed, hopped a little nearer, and sang +sweeter than ever. Not that anybody was listening, either! + + + + +THE RETURN TICKET + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Canadian Ladies' Home Journal_.) + +In the station at Emerson, the boundary town, we were waiting for the +Soo train, which comes at an early hour in the morning. It was a +bitterly cold, dark, winter morning; the wires overhead sang dismally +in the wind, and even the cheer of the big coal fire that glowed in the +rusty stove was dampened by the incessant mourning of the storm. + +Along the walls, on the benches, sat the trackmen, in their sheepskin +coats and fur caps, with earlaps tied tightly down. They were tired and +sleepy, and sat in every conceivable attitude expressive of sleepiness +and fatigue. A red lantern, like an evil eye, gleamed from one dark +corner; in the middle of the floor were several green lamps turned low, +and over against the wall hung one barred lantern whose bright little +gleam of light reminded one uncomfortably of a small, live mouse in a +cage, caught and doomed, but undaunted still. The telegraph instruments +clicked at intervals. Two men, wrapped in overcoats, stood beside the +stove and talked in low tones about the way real estate was increasing +in value in Winnipeg. + +The door opened and a big fellow, another snow shoveller, came in +hurriedly, letting in a burst of flying snow that sizzled on the hot +stove. It did not rouse the sleepers from the bench; neither did the +new-comer's remark that it was a "deuce of a night" bring forth any +argument--we were one on that point. + +The train was late; the night agent told us that when he came out to +shovel in more coal--"she" was delayed by the storm. + +I leaned back and tried to be comfortable. After all, I thought, it +might easily be worse. I was going home after a pleasant visit. I had +many agreeable things to think of, and still I kept thinking to myself +that it was not a cheerful night. The clock, of course, indicated that +it was morning, but the deep black that looked in through the frosted +windows, the heavy shadows in the room, which the flickering lanterns +only seemed to emphasize, were all of the night, and bore no relation +to the morning. + +The train came at last with a roar that drowned the voice of the storm. +The sleepers on the bench sprang up like one man, seized their +lanterns, and we all rushed out together. The long coach that I entered +was filled with tired, sleepy-looking people, who had been sitting up +all night. They were curled up uncomfortably, making a brave attempt to +rest, all except one little old lady, who sat upright, looking out into +the black night. When the official came to ask the passengers where +they were going, I heard her tell him that she was a Canadian, and she +had been "down in the States with Annie, and now she was bringing Annie +home," and as she said this she pointed significantly ahead to the +baggage car. + +There was something about the old lady that appealed to me. I went over +to her when the official had gone out. No, she wasn't tired, she said; +she "had been up a good many nights, and been worried some, but the +night before last she had had a real good sleep." + +She was quite willing to talk; the long black night had made her glad +of companionship. + +"I took Annie to Rochester, down in Minnesota, to see the doctors +there--the Mayos--did you ever hear of the Mayos? Well, Dr. Smale, at +Rose Valley, said they were her only hope. Annie had been ailing for +years, and Dr. Smale had done all he could for her. Dr. Moore, our old +doctor, wouldn't hear of it; he said an operation would kill her, but +Annie was set on going. I heard Annie say to him that she'd rather die +than live sick, and she would go to Rochester. Dave Johnston--Annie's +man, that is--he drinks, you know--" + +The old lady's voice fell and her tired old face seemed to take on +deeper lines of trouble as she sat silent with her own sad thoughts. I +expressed my sorrow. + +"Yes, Annie had her own troubles, poor girl," she said at last; "and +she was a good girl, Annie was, and she deserved something better. She +was a tender-hearted girl, and gentle and quiet, and never talked back +to anyone, to Dave least of all, for she worshipped the very ground he +walked on, and married him against all our wishes. She thought she +could reform him!" + +She said it sadly, but without bitterness. + +"Was he good to her?" I asked. People draw near together in the stormy +dark of a winter's morning, and the thought of Annie in her narrow box +ahead robbed my question of any rudeness. + +"He was good to her in his own way," Annie's mother said, trying to be +quite just, "but it was a rough way. She had a fine, big, brick house +to live in--it was a grand house, but it was a lonely house. He often +went away and stayed for weeks, and her not knowing where he was or how +he would come home. He worried her always. The doctor said that was +part of her trouble--he worried her too much." + +"Did he ever try to stop drinking?" I asked. I wanted to think better +of him if I could. + +"Yes, he did; he was sober once for nearly a year, and Annie's health +was better than it had been for years, but the crowd around the hotel +there in Rose Valley got after him every chance, and one Christmas Day +they got him going again. Annie never could bear to mention about him +drinkin' to anyone, not even me--it would ha' been easier on her if she +could ha' talked about it, but she wasn't one of the talkin' kind." + +We sat in silence, listening to the pounding of the rails. + +"Everybody was kind to her in Rochester," she said, after a while. +"When we were sitting there waitin' our turn--you know how the sick +people wait there in two long rows, waitin' to be taken in to the +consultin' room, don't you? Well, when we were sittin' there Annie was +sufferin' pretty bad, and we were still a long way from the top of the +line. Dr. Judd was takin' them off as fast as he could, and the +ambulances were drivin' off every few minutes, takin' them away to the +hospital after the doctors had decided what was wrong with them. Some +of them didn't need to go to the hospital at all--they're the best off, +I think. We got talkin' to the people around us--they are there from +all over the country, with all kinds of diseases, poor people. Well, +there was a man from Kansas City who had been waitin' a week, but had +got up now second to the end, and I noticed him lookin' at Annie. I was +fannin' her and tryin' to keep her cheered up. Her face was a bad color +from the pain she was in, and what did this man do but git up and come +down to us and tell Annie that she could have his place. He said he +wasn't in very bad pain now, and he would take her place. He made very +little of it, but it meant a lot to us, and to him, too, poor fellow. +Annie didn't want to do it, but he insisted. Sick folks know how to be +kind to sick folks, I tell you." + +The dawn began to show blue behind the frost ferns on the window and +the lamps overhead looked pale and sickly in the grey light. + +"Annie had her operation on Monday," she went on after a long pause. +"She was lookin' every day for a letter from Dave, and when the doctor +told her they would operate on her on Monday morning early, she asked +him if he would mind putting it off until noon. She thought there would +be a letter from Dave, for sure, on that morning's mail. The doctor was +very kind to her--they understand a lot, them Mayos--and he did put it +off. In the ward with Annie there was a little woman from Saskatchewan, +that was a very bad case. She talked to us a lot about her man and her +four children. She had a real good man by what she said. They were on a +homestead near Quill Lake, and she was so sure she'd get well. The +doctor was very hopeful of Annie, and said she had nine chances out of +ten of getting better, but this little woman's was a worse case. Dr. +Will Mayo told her she had just one chance in ten---but, dear me, she +was a brave woman; she spoke right up quick, and says she, 'That's all +I want; I'll get well if I've only half a chance. I've got to; Jim and +the children can't do without me.' Jim was her man. When they came to +take her out into the operating room they couldn't give her ether, some +way. She grabbed the doctor's hand, and says she, kind of chokin' up, +all at once, 'You'll do your best for Jim's sake, won't you?' and he +says, says he, 'My dear woman, I'll do my best for your sake.' Busy and +all as they are, they're the kindest men in the world, and just before +they began to operate the nurse brought her a letter from Jim and read +it to her, and she held it in her hand through it all, and when they +wheeled her back into the ward after the operation, it was still in her +hand, though she had fainted dead away." + +"Did Annie get her letter?" I asked her. + +My companion did not answer at once, but I knew very well that the +letter had not come. + +"She didn't ask for it at the last; she just looked at me before they +put the gauze thing over her face. I knew what she meant. I had been +down to see if it had come, and they told me all the mails were in for +the day from the West. She just looked at me so pitiful, but it was +like Annie not to ask. A letter from Dave would have comforted her so, +but it didn't come, though I wired him two days before telling him when +the operation would be. Annie was wonderful cheerful and calm, but I +was trembling like a leaf when they were givin' her the ether, and when +they wheeled her out all so stiff and white I just seemed to feel I'd +lost my girl." + +I took the old lady's hand and tried to whisper words of comfort. She +returned the pressure of my hand; her eyes were tearless, and her voice +did not even waver, but the thought of poor Annie going into the valley +unassured by any loving word gave free passage to my tears. + +"Did Dave write or wire?" I asked when I could speak. + +"No, not a word; he's likely off on a spree." The old lady spoke +bitterly now. "Everybody was kind to my Annie but him, and it was a +word from him that would have cheered her the most. Dr. Mayo came and +sat beside her just an hour before she died, and says he, 'You still +have a chance, Mrs. Johnston,' but Annie just thanked him again for his +kindness and sort o' shook her head..... + +"The little woman from Saskatchewan didn't do well at all after the +operation, and Dr. Mayo was afraid she wouldn't pull through. She asked +him what chance she had, and he told her straight--the Mayos always +tell the truth--that she had only one chance in a hundred. She was so +weak that he had to bend down to hear her whisperin', 'I'll take that +one chance!'" + +"And did she?" I asked eagerly. + +"She was still living when I left. She will get better, I think. She +has a very good man, by what she was tellin' us, and a woman can stand +a lot if she has a good man," the old lady said, with the wisdom born +of experience. "I've nursed around a lot, and I've always noticed +that!" + +I have noticed it, too, though I've never "nursed around." + +"Dave came with us to the station the day we left home. He was sober +that day, and gave Annie plenty of money. Annie told him to get a +return ticket for her, too. I said he'd better get just a single for +her, for she might have to stay longer than a month; but she said no, +she'd be back in a month, all right. Dave seemed pleased to hear her +talk so cheerful. When she got her ticket she sat lookin' at it a long +time. I knew what she was thinkin'. She never was a girl to talk +mournful, and when the conductor tore off the goin' down part she gave +me the return piece, and she says, 'You take this, mother.' I knew that +she was thinkin' what the return half might be used for." + +We changed cars at Newton, and I stood with the old lady and watched +the trainmen unload the long box. They threw off trunks, boxes and +valises almost viciously, but when they lifted up the long box their +manner changed and they laid it down as tenderly as if they had known +something of Annie and her troubled life. + +We sent another telegram to Dave, and then sat down in the waiting-room +to wait for the west train. The wind drove the snow in billows over the +prairie, and the early twilight of the morning was bitterly cold. + +Her train came first, and again the long box was gently put aboard. On +the wind-swept platform Annie's mother and I shook hands without a +word, and in another minute the long train was sweeping swiftly across +the white prairie. I watched it idly, thinking of Annie and her sad +home-going. Just then the first pale beams of the morning sun glinted +on the last coach, and touched with fine gold the long white smoke +plume, which the wind carried far over the field. There is nothing so +cheerful as the sunshine, and as I sat in the little grey waiting-room, +watching the narrow golden beam that danced over the closed wicket, I +could well believe that a rest remains for Annie, and that she is sure +of a welcome at her journey's end. And as the sun's warmth began to +thaw the tracery of frost on the window, I began to hope that God's +grace may yet find out Dave, and that he too may "make good" in the +years to come. As for the little woman from Quill Lake, who was still +willing to take the one chance, I have never had the slightest doubt. + + + + +THE UNGRATEFUL PIGEONS + +Philip was a little boy, with a generous growth of freckles, and a +loving heart. Most people saw only the freckles, but his mother never +lost sight of his affectionate nature. So when, one warm spring day, he +sat moodily around the house, she was ready to listen to his grievance. + +"I want something for a pet," said Philip. "I have no dog or cat or +anything!" + +"What would you like the very best of all?" his mother asked, with the +air of a fairy godmother. + +"I want pigeons! They are so pretty and white and soft, and they lay +eggs and hatch young ones." + +All his gloom had vanished! + +"How much a pair?" asked his mother. + +"Twenty-five cents out at Crane's. They have millions of them; I can +walk out--it's only five miles." + +"Where will we put them when you bring them home?" she asked. + +Philip thought they could share his room, but this suggestion was +promptly rejected! + +Then Philip's father was hurriedly interviewed by Philip's mother, and +he agreed to nail a box on the end of the stable, far beyond the reach +of prowling cats, and Philip, armed with twenty-five cents, set forth +gaily on his five-mile walk. It was Saturday morning, and a beautiful +day of glittering April sunshine. The sun was nearly down when Philip +returned, tired but happy. It seemed there had been some trouble in +catching them. The quoted price of twenty-five cents a pair was for +raw, uncaught pigeons, but Philip had succeeded at last and brought +back two beauties, one with blue markings, and the other one almost +white. + +The path of true love never ran smooth; difficulties were encountered +at once. Philip put a generous supply of straw in one end of the box +for a bed, but when he put them in they turned round and round as if +they were not quite satisfied with their lodgings. Then Philip had one +of those dazzling ideas which so often led to trouble with the other +members of his family. He made a hurried visit to Rose's--his sister's +--room. Rose was a grown-up lady of twelve. + +When he came back, he brought with him a dove-grey chiffon auto veil, +the kind that was much favored that spring by young ladies in Rose's +set, for a head protection instead of hats. + +Rose's intimate friend, Hattie Matthews, had that very day put a knot +in each side, which made it fit very artistically on Rose's head. +Philip carefully untied the knots, and draped it over the straw. The +effect was beautiful. Philip exclaimed with delight! They looked so +pretty and "woozy"! + +In the innocence of his heart, he ran into the house, for Rose; he +wanted her to rejoice with him. + +Rose's language was pointed, though dignified, and the pretty sight was +ruthlessly broken up. Philip's mother, however, stepped into the gap, +and produced an old, pale blue veil of her own, which was equally +becoming. + +It was she, too, who proposed a pigeon book, and a very pleasant time +was spent making it,--for it was not a common book, bought with money, +but one made by loving hands. Several sheets of linen notepaper were +used for the inside, with stiff yellow paper for the cover, the whole +fastened with pale blue silk. Then Philip printed on the cover: + +Philip Brown, +Pigeon Book, + +but not in any ordinary, plain, little bits of letters! Each capital +was topped off with an arrow, and ended with a feather, and even the +small letters had a thick blanket of dots. + +The first entry was as follows: + +April 7th.--_I wocked out to Crane's, and got 2 fantales. they are hard +to ketch. I payed 25 scents. My father knailed a box on the stable, and +I put in a bed of straw, they are bootiful. my sister would not let me +have her vale, but I got one prettier. they look woozy_. + +The next day, Sunday, Philip did not see how he could go to church or +Sunday-school--he had not time, he said, but his mother agreed to watch +the pigeons, and so his religious obligations did not need to be set +aside. + +Monday afternoon the Browns' back yard was full of little boys +inspecting Philip's pigeons, not merely idle onlookers, but hard-headed +poultry fanciers, as shown by the following entry: + +April 9th.--_I sold a pare of white ones to-day to Wilfred Garbett, to +be kept three weeks after birth, Eva Gayton wants a pare too any color, +in July. She paid for them_. + +Under this entry, which was made laboriously in ink, there was another +one, in lead pencil, done by Philip's brother, Jack: + +_This is called selling Pigeons short_. + +Philip's friends recommended many and varied things for the pigeons to +eat, and he did his best to supply them all, as far as his slender +means allowed; he went to the elevator for wheat; he traded his good +jack-knife for two mouse-eaten and anaemic heads of squaw-corn, which +were highly recommended by an unscrupulous young Shylock, who had just +come to town and was short of a jack-knife. His handkerchief, +scribblers and pencils mysteriously disappeared, but other articles +came in their place: a small round mirror advertising corsets on the +back (Gordon Smith said pigeons liked a looking-glass--it made them +more contented to stay at home); a small swing out of a birdcage, which +was duly put in place (vendor Miss Edie Beal, owner unknown). Of +course, it was too small for pigeons, but there were going to be little +ones very soon, weren't there? + +He also brought to them one day five sunflower seeds, recommended and +sold by a mild-eyed little Murphy girl, who had the stubby fingers of a +money-maker. Philip, being very low in funds that day, wanted her to +accept prospective eggs in payment, but the stubby-fingered Miss Murphy +preferred currency! Philip decided to make no entry of these +transactions in his Pigeon Book. + +His young brother, Barrie, began to be troublesome about this time, and +to evince an unwholesome interest in the pigeons. The ladder, which was +placed against the stable under their house, at first seemed to him too +high to climb, but seeing the multitude of delighted spectators who +went up and down without accident, he resolved to try it, too, and so +successfully that he was able after a few attempts to carry a stick +with him, stand on the highest rung, and poke up the pigeons. + +One day he was caught--with the goods--by Philip himself. So indignant +was Philip that for a moment he stood speechless. His young brother, +jarred by a guilty conscience and fear of Philip, came hastily down the +ladder, raising a few bruises on his anatomy as he came. Even in his +infant soul he felt he deserved all he had got, and thought best not to +mention the occurrence. Philip, too, generously kept quiet about it, +feeling that the claims of justice had been met. The only dissatisfied +parties in the transaction were the pigeons. + +The next Sunday in Sabbath School there was a temperance lesson, and +Barrie Brown quoted the Golden Text with a slight variation--"At the +last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like a _ladder_!" + +Philip was the only one who knew what he meant, and he said it served +him good and right. + +The following entry appears in the Pigeon Book: + +_My brother Barrie poks them, but he got his leson. tomoro I'll let +them out--there fond enough of home now I gess_. + +The next day being Saturday, when Philip could watch them, he let them +out. All day long his heart was torn with pride and fear--they looked +so beautiful, circling and wheeling over the stable and far away across +the road, and yet his heart was chill with the fear that they would +never return. + +That night the Pigeon Book received the following entry: + +April 21st.--_I let them out and, they came back--they are sweet pets. +I dreem about them every night I have two dreems, my good dreem is +the've layd my bad dreem is about tomcats and two little heaps of +fethers its horrid_. + +The next week another entry went into the book: + +_I sold another pare to-day I've raised the price this pare is to be +delivered in Ogist. I gave them a bran mash to-day, it makes them lay +sure._ + +Under this Jack wrote: + +_Thinking of the August delivery_. + +The next entry was this: + +May 1st.--_Wilfred G. is pritty meen, he thinks he knows it all. they +aint goin to lay all in a hurry._ + +There seemed to be no doubt about this. They certainly were not. In +spite of bran mashes, pepper, cotton batting, blue veil and tender +care, they refused to even consider the question of laying. + +Philip was quite satisfied with them as they were, if they would only +stay with him, but the customers who had bought and paid for highly +recommended young fowl were inclined to be impatient and even +unpleasant when the two parent birds were to be seen gadding around the +street at all hours of the day, utterly regardless of their young +master's promises. + +Philip learned to call them. His "cutacutacoo--cutacutacoo" could be +heard up and down the street. Sometimes they seemed to pay a little +attention to him, and then his joy was full. More often they seemed to +say, "Cutacutacoo yourself!" or some such saucy word, and fly farther +away. + +One night they did not come home. Philip's most insistent "cutacutacoo" +brought no response. He hired boys to help him to look for them, +beggaring himself of allies and marbles, even giving away his Lucky +Shooter, a mottled pee-wee, to a lynx-eyed young hunter who claimed to +be able to see in the dark. He even dared the town constable by staying +out long after the curfew had rung, looking and asking. No one had seen +them. + +Through the night it rained, a cold, cruel rain--or so it seemed to the +sad-hearted, wide-awake little boy. He stole out quietly, afraid that +he might be sent back to bed, but only his mother heard him, and she +understood. It was lonesome and dark outside, but love lighted his way. +He groped his way up the ladder, hoping to find them, but though the +straw, the cotton batting, the blue veil, the water-dish were all in +place--there were no pigeons! + +Philip came back to bed, cold and wet in body, but his heart colder +still with fear, and his face wetter with tears. Under cover of the +night a boy of ten can cry all he wants to. + +His mother, who heard him going out and who understood, called softly +to him to come to her room, and then sympathized. She said they were +safe enough, never fear, with some flock of pigeons; they had got +lonesome, that was all; they would come back when they got hungry, and +the rain would not hurt them, and be sure to wipe his feet! + +The next day they were found across the street with Jerry Andrews' +pigeons, as unconcerned as you please. Philip parted with his Lost Heir +game--about the only thing he had left--to get Jerry to help him to +catch them when they were roosting. He shut them up for a few days and +worked harder than ever, if that were possible, to try to please them. + +The Pigeon Book would have been neglected only for his mother, who said +it was only right to put in the bad as well as the good. That was the +way with all stories. Philip made this entry: + +_They went away and staid and had to be brot back by force I guess they +were lonesome. I don't know why they don't like me--I like them_! + +When his mother read that she said, "Poor little fellow," and made +pancakes for tea. + +In a few days he let them out again, and watched them with a pale face. + +They did not hesitate a minute, but flew straight away down the street +to the place they had been before, to the place where the people often +made pies of pigeons and were not ashamed to tell it! + +Philip followed them silently, not having the heart to call. + +"Say, Phil," the boy of the pigeon loft called--he was a stout boy who +made money out of everything--"I guess they ain't goin' to stay with +you. You might as well sell out to me. I'll give you ten cents for the +pair. I'm goin' to sell a bunch to the hotel on Saturday." + +An insane desire to fight him took hold of Philip. He turned away +without speaking. + +At school that day he approached the pigeon boy and made the +proposition that filled the boy with astonishment: "I'll give them to +you, Jerry," he said, hurriedly, "if you promise not to kill them. It's +all right! I guess I won't bother with pigeons--I think I'll get a dog +--or something," he ended lamely. + +Jerry was surprised, but being a business man he closed the deal on the +spot. When Philip went home he put his pigeon book away. + +There was a final entry, slightly smeared and very badly written: + +_They are ungrateful broots_! + + + +YOU NEVER CAN TELL + +(Reprinted by permission of _Saturday Night_, Toronto.) + +It was at exactly half-past three in the afternoon of a hot June day +that Mrs. Theodore Banks became smitten with the idea. Mrs. Banks often +said afterwards she did not know how she came to be thinking about the +Convention of the Arts and Crafts at all, although she is the +Secretary. The idea was so compelling that Mrs. Banks rushed down town +to tell Mr. Banks--she felt she could not depend on the telephone. + +"Ted," she cried, when she opened the door of the office, "I have an +idea!" + +Theodore raised his eyelids. + +Mrs. Banks was flushed and excited and looked well. Mrs. Banks was a +handsome woman any time, and to-day her vivacity was quite genuine. + +"You know the Convention of the Arts and Crafts--which begins on the +twentieth." + +"I've heard of it--somewhere." + +"Well, it just came to me, Teddy, what a perfectly heavenly thing it +would be to invite that little Mrs. Dawson, who writes reviews for one +of the papers here--you remember I told you about her--she is awfully +clever and artistic and good-looking, and lives away off from every +place, and her husband is not her equal at all--perfectly illiterate, +I heard--uncultured anyway. What a perfect joy it would be to her to +have her come, and meet with people who are her equals. She's an Ottawa +girl originally, I believe, and she does write the most perfectly sweet +and darling things--you remember I've read them for you. Of course, she +is probably very shabby and out of date in her clothes by this time. +But it doesn't really matter what one wears, if one has heaps of +brains. It is only dull women, really, who have to be so terribly +careful about what they wear, and spend so much money that way!" + +"Dull women!" Theodore murmured. "Oh! is that why? I never really +knew." + +She laughed at his look of enlightened surprise. When Mrs. Banks +laughed there were three dimples plainly showing, which did not +entirely discourage her merriment. + +"And you know, Teddy, there is such a mystery about her marriage! She +will really be quite an acquisition, and we'll have her on the +programme." + +"What mystery?" Mr. Banks asked. + +"Oh, well, not mystery, maybe, but we all suppose she's not happy. How +could she be with so few of the real pleasures of life, and still she +stays with it, and actually goes places with her husband, and seems to +be keeping it up, and you know, Ted, she has either three or four +children!" + +"Is it as bad as that?" he asked, solemnly. + +"Oh, Ted! you know well enough what I mean--don't be such an owl! Just +think of how tied down and horrible it must be for her out there in +that desolate Alberta, with no neighbors at all for miles, and then +only impossible people. I should think it would drive her mad. I must +try to get her on the programme, too. She will at least be interesting, +on account of her personality. Most of our speakers are horribly prosy, +at least to me, but of course I never listen; I just look to see what +they've on and then go straight back to my own thinking. I just thought +I'd ask your advice, Teddy dear, before I asked the Committee, and so +now I'll go to see Mrs. Trenton, the President. So glad you approve, +dear! And really there will be a touch of romance in it, Ted, for Bruce +Edwards knew her when she lived in Ottawa--it was he who told me so +much about her. He simply raved about her to me--it seems he was quite +mad about her once, and probably it was a lover's quarrel or something +that drove her away to the West to forget,--and now think of her +meeting Bruce again. Isn't that a thriller?" + +"If I thought Bruce Edwards had brains enough to care for any woman I'd +say it was not right to bring her here," said Mr. Banks; "but he +hasn't." + +"Oh, of course," Mrs. Banks agreed, "he is quite over it now, no doubt. +Things like that never last, but he'll be awfully nice to her, and give +her a good time and take her around--you know what Bruce is like--he's +so romantic and cynical, and such a perfect darling in his manners-- +always ready to open a door or pick up a handkerchief!" + +"I am sure he would--if he needed the handkerchief," Theodore put in, +quietly. + +"Oh, Ted! you're a funny bunny! You've never liked Bruce--and I know +why--and it's perfectly horrid of you, just because he has always been +particularly nice to me--he really can't help being dreamy and devoted +to any woman he is with, if she is not a positive fright." + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Trenton, the President of the Arts and Crafts, received Mrs. +Banks' suggestion cautiously. Mrs. Trenton always asked, Is it right? +Is it wise? Is it expedient? It was Mrs. Trenton's extreme cautiousness +that had brought her the proud distinction of being the first President +of the Arts and Crafts, where it was considered necessary to temper the +impetuosity of the younger members; and, besides, Mrs. Trenton never +carried her doubts and fears too far. She raised all possible +objections, mentioned all possible contingencies, but in the end +allowed the younger members to carry the day, which they did, with a +clear and shriven conscience, feeling that they had been very discreet +and careful and deliberate. + +Mrs. Banks introduced her subject by telling Mrs. Trenton that she had +come to ask her advice, whereupon Mrs. Trenton laid aside the work she +was doing and signified her gracious willingness to be asked for +counsel. When Mrs. Banks had carefully laid the matter before Mrs. +Trenton, dwelling on the utter loneliness of the prairie woman's life, +Mrs. Trenton called the Vice-President, Miss Hastings, who was an oil +painter by profession, and a lady of large experience in matters of the +heart. Mrs. Trenton asked Mrs Banks to outline her plan again. + +When she had finished, Mrs. Trenton asked: "Is it wise--is it kind? She +has chosen her life. Why bring her back? It will only fill her heart +with vain repinings. This man, illiterate though he may be, is her +lawful husband--she owes him a duty. Are we just to him?" + +"Maybe she is perfectly happy," Miss Hastings said. "There is no +accounting for love and its vagaries. Perhaps to her he is clothed in +the rosy glow of romance, and all the inconveniences of her life are +forgotten. I have read of it," she added in explanation, when she +noticed Mrs. Trenton's look of incredulity. + +Mrs. Trenton sighed, a long sigh that undulated the black lace on her +capacious bosom. + +"It has been written--it will continue to be written, but to-day +marriage needs to be aided by modern--" she hesitated, and looked at +Mrs. Banks for the word. + +"Methods," Mrs. Banks supplied, promptly, "housemaids, cooks, autos, +theatres, jewelry and chocolates." + +"You put it so aptly, my dear," Mrs. Trenton smiled, as she patted her +pearl bracelet, Mr. Trenton's last offering on the hymeneal altar. "It +requires--" she paused again--Mrs. Trenton's pauses were a very +important asset in her conversation--"it requires--" + +"Collateral," said Mrs. Banks. + +Miss Hastings shook her head. + +"I believe in marriage--all the same," she said heroically. + +"Now, how shall we do it?" Mrs. Banks was anxious to get the +preliminaries over. "You have decided to invite her, of course." + +Mrs. Trenton nodded. + +"I feel we have no choice in the matter," she said slowly. "She is +certainly a woman of artistic temperament--she must be, or she would +succumb to the dreary prairie level. I have followed her career with +interest and predict great things for her--have I not, Miss Hastings? +We should not blame her if in a moment of girlish romance she turned +her back on the life which now is. We, as officers of the Arts and +Crafts, must extend our fellowship to all who are worthy. This joining +of our ranks may show her what she lost by her girlish folly, but it is +better for her to know life, and even feel regrets, than never to +know." + +"Better have a scarlet thread run through the dull gray pattern of +life, even if it makes the gray all the duller," said Miss Hastings, +who worked in oils. + +And so it came about that an invitation was sent to Mrs. James Dawson, +Auburn, Alberta, and in due time an acceptance was received. + +From the time she alighted from the Pacific Express, a slight young +woman in a very smart linen suit, she was a constant surprise to the +Arts and Crafts. The principal cause of their surprise was that she +seemed perfectly happy. There was not a shadow of regret in her clear +grey eyes, nor any trace of drooping melancholy in her quick, business- +like walk. + +Naturally the Arts and Crafts had made quite a feature of the Alberta +author and poet who would attend the Convention. Several of the +enthusiastic members, anxious to advertise effectively, had interviewed +the newspaper reporters on the subject, with the result that long +articles were published in the Woman's Section of the city dailies, +dealing principally with the loneliness of the life on an Alberta +ranch. Kate Dawson was credited with an heroic spirit that would have +made her blush had she seen the flattering allusions. Robinson Crusoe +on his lonely isle, before the advent of Friday, was not more isolated +than she on her lonely Alberta ranch, according to the advance notices. +Luckily she had not seen any of these, nor ever dreamed she was the +centre of so much attention, and so it was a very self-possessed and +unconscious young woman in a simple white gown who came before the Arts +and Crafts. + +It was the first open night of the Convention, and the auditorium was +crowded. The air was heavy with the perfume of many flowers, and pulsed +with dreamy music. Mrs. Trenton, in billows of black lace and glinting +jet, presided with her usual graciousness. She introduced Mrs. Dawson +briefly. + +Whatever the attitude of the audience was at first, they soon followed +her with eager interest as she told them, in her easy way, simple +stories of the people she knew so well and so lovingly understood. +There was no art in the telling, only a sweet naturalness and an +apparent honesty--the honesty of purpose that comes to people in lonely +places. Her stories were all of the class that magazine editors call +"homely, heart-interest stuff," not deep or clever or problematical-- +the commonplace doings of common people--but it found an entrance into +the hearts of men and women. + +They found themselves looking with her at broad sunlit spaces, where +struggling hearts work out noble destinies, without any thought of +heroism. They saw the moonlight and its drifting shadows on the wheat, +and smelled again the ripening grain at dawn. They heard the whirr of +prairie chickens' wings among the golden stubble on the hillside, and +the glamor of some old forgotten afternoon stole over them. Men and +women country-born who had forgotten the voices of their youth, heard +them calling across the years, and heard them, too, with opened hearts +and sudden tears. There was one pathetic story she told them, of the +lonely prairie woman--the woman who wished she was back, the woman to +whom the broad outlook and far horizon were terrible and full of fear. +She told them how, at night, this lonely woman drew down the blinds and +pinned them close to keep out the great white outside that stared at +her through every chink with wide, pitiless eyes--the mocking voices +that she heard behind her everywhere, day and night, whispering, +mocking, plotting; and the awful shadows, black and terrible, that +crouched behind her, just out of sight--never coming out in the open. + +It was a weird and gloomy picture, that, but she did not leave it so. +She told of the new neighbor who came to live near the lonely woman-- +the human companionship which drove the mocking voices away forever-- +the coming of the spring, when the world awoke from its white sleep and +the thousand joyous living things that came into being at the touch of +the good old sun! + +At the reception after the programme, many crowded around her, +expressing their sincere appreciation of her work. Bruce Edwards fully +enjoyed the distinction which his former acquaintance with her gave +him, and it was with quite an air of proprietorship that he introduced +to her his friends. + +Mrs. Trenton, Mrs. Banks and other members of the Arts and Crafts, at a +distance discussed her with pride. She had made their open night a +wonderful success--the papers would be full of it to-morrow. + +"You can see how fitted she is for a life of culture," said Miss +Hastings, the oil painter; "her shapely white hands were made for +silver spoons, and not for handling butter ladles. What a perfect joy +it must be for her to associate with people who are her equals!" + +"I wonder," said Mrs. Banks, "what her rancher would say if he saw his +handsome wife now. So much admiration from an old lover is not good for +the peace of mind of even a serious-minded author--and such a +fascinating man as Bruce! Look how well they look together! I wonder if +she is mentally comparing her big, sunburned cattleman with Bruce, and +thinking of what a different life she would have led if she had married +him!" + +"Do you suppose," said Mrs. Trenton, "that that was her own story that +she told us? I think she must have felt it herself to be able to tell +it so." + +Just at that moment Bruce Edwards was asking her the same question. + +"Oh, no," she answered, quickly, while an interested group drew near; +"people never write their own sorrows--the broken heart does not sing-- +that's the sadness of it. If one can talk of their sorrows they soon +cease to be. It's because I have not had any sorrows of my own that I +have seen and been able to tell of the tragedies of life." + +"Isn't she the jolly best bluffer you ever heard?" one of the men +remarked to another. "Just think of that beautiful creature, born for +admiration, living ten miles from anywhere, on an Albertan ranch of all +places, and saying she is happy. She could be a top-notcher in any +society in Canada--why, great Scott! any of us would have married that +girl, and been glad to do it!" And under the glow of this generous +declaration Mr. Stanley Carruthers lit his cigarette and watched her +with unconcealed admiration. + +As the Arts and Crafts had predicted, the newspapers gave considerable +space to their open meeting, and the Alberta author came in for a large +share of the reporters' finest spasms. It was the chance of a lifetime +--here was local color--human interest--romance--thrills! Good old +phrases, clover-scented and rosy-hued, that had lain in cold storage +for years, were brought out and used with conscious pride. + +There was one paper which boldly hinted at what it called her +"_mesalliance_," and drew a lurid picture of her domestic unhappiness, +"so bravely borne." All the gossip of the Convention was in it +intensified and exaggerated--conjectures set down as known truths--the +idle chatter of idle women crystallized in print! + +And of this paper a copy was sent by some unknown person to James +Dawson, Auburn, Alberta. + + * * * * * + +The rain was falling at Auburn, Alberta, with the dreary insistence of +unwelcome harvest rain. Just a quiet drizzle--plenty more where this +came from--no haste, no waste. It soaked the fields, keeping green the +grain which should be ripening in a clear sun. Kate Dawson had been +gone a week, and it would still be a week before she came back. Just a +week--seven days. Jim Dawson went over them in his mind as he drove the +ten miles over the rain-soaked roads to Auburn to get his daily letter. + +Every day she had written to him long letters, full of vital interest +to him. He read them over and over again. + +"Nobody really knows how well Kate can write, who has not seen her +letters to me," he thought proudly. Absence had not made him fonder of +his wife, for every day he lived was lived in devotion to her. The +marvel of it all never left him, that such a woman as Kate Marks, who +had spent her life in the city, surrounded by cultured friends, should +be contented to live the lonely life of a rancher's wife. + +He got his first disappointment when there was no letter for him. He +told himself it was some unavoidable delay in the mails--Kate had +written all right--there would be two letters for him to-morrow. Then +he noticed the paper addressed to him in a strange hand. + +He opened it eagerly. A wavy ink-line caught his eye. "Western author +delights large audience." Jim Dawson's face glowed with pride. "My +girl!" he murmured, happily. "I knew it." He wanted to be alone when he +read it, and, folding it hastily, put it in his pocket and did not look +at it again until he was on the way home. The rain still fell drearily +and spattered the page as he read. + +His heart beat fast with pride as he read the flattering words--his +girl had made good, you bet! + +Suddenly he started, almost crushing the paper in his hands, and every +bit of color went from his face. "What's this? 'Unhappily married '-- +'borne with heroic cheerfulness.'" He read it through to the end. + +He stopped his horses and looked around--he did not know, himself, what +thought was in his mind. Jim Dawson had always been able to settle his +disputes without difficulty or delay. There was something to be done +now. The muscles swelled in his arms. Surely something could be +done!... + +Then the wanton cruelty, the utter brutality of the printed page came +home to him--there was no way, no answer. + +Strange to say, he felt no resentment for himself; even the paragraph +about the old lover, with its hidden and sinister meaning, angered him +only in its relation to her. Why shouldn't the man admire her if he was +an old lover?--Kate must have had dozens of men in love with her--why +shouldn't any man admire her? + +So he talked and reasoned with himself, trying to keep the cruel hurt +of the words out of his heart. + +Everyone in his household was asleep when he reached home. He stabled +his team with the help of his lantern, and then, going into the +comfortable kitchen, he found the lunch the housekeeper had left for +him. He thought of the many merry meals he and Kate had had on this +same kitchen table, but now it seemed a poor, cold thing to sit down +and eat alone and in silence. + +With his customary thoughtfulness he cleared away the lunch before +going to his room. Then, lamp in hand, he went, as he and Kate had +always done, to the children's room, and looked long and lovingly at +his boy and girl asleep in their cots--the boy so like himself, with +his broad forehead and brown curls. He bent over him and kissed him +tenderly--Kate's boy. + +Then he turned to the little girl, so like her mother, with her tangle +of red curls on the pillow. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her +to his room and put her in his own bed. + +"Mother isn't putting up a bluff on us, is she, dearie?" he whispered +as he kissed the soft little cheek beside his own. "Mother loves us, +surely--it is pretty rough on us if she doesn't--and it's rougher +still on mother!" + +The child stirred in her sleep, and her arms tightened around his neck. + +"I love my mother--and my dear daddy," she murmured drowsily. + +All night long Jim Dawson lay wide-eyed, staring into the darkness with +his little sleeping girl in his arms, not doubting his wife for a +moment, but wondering--all night long--wondering! + +The next evening Jim did not go for his mail, but one of the neighbors +driving by volunteered to get it for him. + +It was nearly midnight when the sound of wheels roused him from his +reverie. He opened the door, and in the square of light the horses +stopped. + +"Hello, Jim--is that you?" called the neighbor; "I've got something for +you." + +Jim came out bareheaded. He tried to thank the neighbor for his +kindness, but his throat was dry with suppressed excitement--Kate had +written! + +The buggy was still in the shadow, and he could not see its occupant. + +"I have a letter for you, Jim," said his friend, with a suspicious +twinkle in his voice, "a big one, registered and special delivery--a +right nice letter, I should say." + +Then her voice rang out in the darkness. + +"Come, Jim, and help me out." + +Commonplace words, too, but to Jim Dawson they were sweeter than the +chiming of silver bells..... + +An hour later they still sat over their late supper on the kitchen +table. She had told him many things. + +"I just got lonely, Jim--plain, straight homesick for you and the +children. I couldn't stay out the week. The people were kind to me, and +said nice things about my work. I was glad to hear and see things, of +course. Bruce Edwards was there, you know--I've told you about Bruce. +He took me around quite a bit, and was nice enough, only I couldn't +lose him--you know that kind, Jim, always saying tiresome, plastery +sort of things. He thinks that women like to be fussed over all the +time. The women I met dress beautifully and all talk the same--and at +once. Everything is 'perfectly sweet' and 'darling' to them. They are +clever women all right, and were kind to me, and all that, but oh, Jim, +they are not for mine--and the men I met while I was away all looked +small and poor and trifling to me because I have been looking for the +last ten years at one who is big and brown and useful. I compared them +all with you, and they measured up badly. Jim, do you know what it +would feel like to live on popcorn and chocolates for two weeks and try +to make a meal of them--what do you think you would be hungry for?" + +Jim Dawson watched his wife, his eyes aglow with love and pride. Not +until she repeated her question did he answer her. + +"I think, perhaps, a slice of brown bread would be what was wanted," he +answered smiling. The glamor of her presence was upon him. + +Then she came over to him and drew his face close to hers. + +"Please pass the brown bread!" she said. + + + + +A SHORT TALE OF A RABBIT + +(Reprinted by permission of _Canada West Monthly_.) + +Johnny was the only John rabbit in the family that lived in the poplar +bluff in the pasture. He had a bold and adventurous spirit, but was +sadly hampered by his mother's watchfulness. She was as full of +warnings as the sign-board at the railway crossing. It was "Look out +for the cars!" all the time with mother. She warned him of dogs and +foxes, hawks and snakes, boys and men. It was in vain that Johnny +showed her his paces--how he could leap and jump and run. She admitted +that he was quite a smart little rabbit for his age, but--oh, well! you +know what mothers are like. + +Johnny was really tired of it, and then, too, Johnny had found out that +what mother had said about dogs was very much exaggerated. Johnny had +met two dogs, so he thought he knew something about them. One was a +sleek, fat, black puppy, with a vapid smile, called Juno; and the other +was an amber-eyed spaniel with woolly, fat legs. They had run after +Johnny one day when he was out playing on the road, and he had led them +across a ploughed field. Johnny was accustomed to add, as he told the +story to the young rabbits that lived down in the pasture, that he had +to spurt around the field a few times after the race was over just to +limber up his legs--he was so cramped from sitting around waiting for +the dogs. So it came about that Johnny, in his poor, foolish little +heart, thought dogs were just a joke. + +Johnny's mother told him that all men were bad, and the men who carried +guns were worst of all, for guns spit out fire and death. She said +there were men who wore coats the color of dead grass, and drove in +rigs that rattled and had dogs with them, and they killed ducks and +geese that were away up in the air. She said those men drove miles and +miles just to kill things, and they lived sometimes in a little house +away out near the lakes where the ducks stayed, and they didn't mind +getting up early in the morning or sitting up at night to get a shot at +a duck, and when they got the ducks they just gave them away. If half +what old Mrs. Rabbit said about them was true, they certainly were the +Bad Men from Bitter Creek! Johnny listened, big-eyed, to all this, and +there were times when he was almost afraid to go to bed. Still, when he +found out that dogs were not so dangerous, he began to think his mother +might have overstated the man question, too. + +One day Johnny got away from his mother, when she was busy training the +other little rabbits in the old trick of dodging under the wire fence +just when the dog is going to grab you. Johnny knew how it was done--it +was as easy as rolling off a log for him, and so he ran away. He came +up at the Agricultural Grounds. He had often been close to the fence +before, but his mother had said decidedly he must never go in. + +Just beside the gate he found a bread crust which was lovely, and there +might be more, mightn't there? There wasn't a person in sight, or a +dog. Johnny went a little farther in and found a pile of cabbage +leaves--a pile of them, mind you--he really didn't know what to think +of his mother--she certainly was the limit! Johnny grew bolder; a +little farther on he found more bread crumbs and some stray lettuce +leaves--he began to feel a little sorry for his mother--lettuce +leaves, cabbage leaves and bread crumbs--and she had said, "Don't go +in there, Johnny, whatever you do!" + +The band was playing, and there were flags in the air, but Johnny +didn't notice it. He didn't know, of course, that the final lacrosse +match of the season was going to be played that afternoon. Johnny had +just gone into one of the cattle sheds to see what was there, when a +little boy, with flopped-out ears and a Cow Brand Soda cap on, +stealthily closed the gate. Johnny didn't know he had on a Cow Brand +Soda cap, and he didn't know that the gate was shut, but he did know +that that kind of a yell meant business. He wasn't afraid. Pshaw! He'd +give young Mr. Flop-Ears a run for his money. Come on, kid--r-r-r-r-r! +Johnny ran straight to the gate with a rabbit's unerring instinct, and +hurled himself against it in vain. The flop-eared boy screamed with +laughter. Then there were more Boys. And Dogs. All screaming. The +primitive savage in them was awake now. Here was a wild thing who +defied them, with all his speed. Johnny was running now with his ears +laid back, mad with terror, dogs barking, boys screaming, even men +joining in the chase, for the lust for blood was on them. Again Johnny +made the circuit of the field--the noise grew--a hundred voices, it +seemed, not one that was friendly. It was one little throbbing rabbit +against the field, with all the odds against him, running for his life, +and losing! "Sic him, Togo! Sic him, Collie! Gee! Can't he run? But +we've got him this time. He'll soon slow up." A dog snapped at him and +his hind leg grew heavy. Some one struck at him with a lacrosse stick, +and then-- + +He found himself running alone. Behind him a dog yelped with pain, and +above the noise someone shouted: "Here, you kids, let up on that! Shame +on you! Let him alone! Call off your dogs, there! Poor little duffer, +let him go. Get back there, Twin!" + +Johnny ran dazed and dizzy, and once more made the circuit and dashed +again for the gate. But this time the gate was open, and Johnny was +free! Saved, and by whom? + +Well, of course, old Mrs. Rabbit didn't believe a word of it when +Johnny went home and told her who called off the dogs and opened the +gate for him. She said,--well, she talked very plainly to Johnny, but +he stuck to it, that he owed his life to one of the Bad Men who wear +clothes the color of grass, and whose gun spits fire and death. For old +Mrs. Rabbit made just the same mistake that many people make of +thinking that a man that hunts must be cruel, forgetting that the true +sportsman loves the wild things he makes war on, and though he kills +them, he does it fairly and openly. + + + + +THE ELUSIVE VOTE + +AN UNVARNISHED TALE OF SEPTEMBER 21st, 1911 + +John Thomas Green did not look like a man on whom great issues might +turn. His was a gentle soul encased in ill-fitting armour. Heavy blue +eyes, teary and sad, gave a wintry droop to his countenance; his nose +showed evidence of much wiping, and the need of more. When he spoke, +which was infrequent, he stammered; when he walked he toed in. + +He was a great and glorious argument in favor of woman suffrage; he was +the last word, the _piéce de résistance_; he was a living, walking, +yellow banner, which shouted "Votes for Women," for in spite of his +many limitations there was one day when he towered high above the +mightiest woman in the land; one day that the plain John Thomas was +clothed with majesty and power; one day when he emerged from obscurity +and placed an impress on the annals of our country. Once every four +years John Thomas Green came forth (at the earnest solicitation of +friends) and stood before kings. + +The Reciprocity fight was on, and nowhere did it rage more hotly than +in Morton, where Tom Brown, the well-beloved and much-hated +Conservative member, fought for his seat with all the intensity of his +Irish blood. Politics were an incident to Tom--the real thing was the +fight! and so fearlessly did he go after his assailants--and they were +many--that every day greater enthusiasm prevailed among his followers, +who felt it a privilege to fight for a man who fought so well for +himself. + +The night before the election the Committee sat in the Committee Rooms +and went carefully over the lists. They were hopeful but not hilarious +--there had been disappointments, desertions, lapses! + +Billy Weaver, loyal to the cause, but of pessimistic nature, testified +that Sam Cowery had been "talkin' pretty shrewd about reciprocity," by +which Billy did not mean "shrewd" at all, but rather crooked and +adverse. However, there was no mistaking Billy's meaning of the word +when one heard him say it with his inimitable "down-the-Ottaway" +accent. It is only the feeble written word which requires explanation. + +George Burns was reported to have said he did not care whether he voted +or not; if it were a wet day he might, but if it were weather for +stacking he'd stack, you bet! This was a gross insult to the President +of the Conservative Association, whose farm he had rented and lived on +for the last five years, during which time there had been two +elections, at both of which he had voted "right." The President had not +thought it necessary to interview him at all this time, feeling sure +that he was within the pale. But now it seemed that some trifler had +told him that he would get more for his barley and not have to pay so +much for his tobacco if Reciprocity carried, and it was reported that +he had been heard to say, with picturesque eloquence, that you could +hardly expect a man to cut his throat both ways by voting against it! + +These and other kindred reports filled the Committee with apprehension. + +The most unmoved member of the company was the redoubtable Tom himself, +who, stretched upon the slippery black leather lounge, hoarse as a frog +from much addressing of obdurate electors, was endeavoring to sing +"Just Before the Battle, Mother," hitting the tune only in the most +inconspicuous places! + +The Secretary, with the list in his hand, went over the names: + +"Jim Stewart--Jim's solid; he doesn't want Reciprocity, because he sent +to the States once for a washing-machine for his wife, and smuggled it +through from St. Vincent, and when he got it here his wife wouldn't use +it! + +"Abe Collins--Abe's not right and never will be--he saw Sir Wilfrid +once-- + +"John Thomas Green--say, how about Jack? Surely we can corral Jack. +He's working for you, Milt, isn't he?" addressing one of the +scrutineers. + +"Leave him to me," said Milt, with an air of mystery; "there's no one +has more influence with Jack than me. No, he isn't with me just now, +he's over with my brother Angus; but when he comes in to vote I'll be +there, and all I'll have to do is to lift my eyes like this" (he showed +them the way it would be done) "and he'll vote--right." + +"How do you know he will come, though?" asked the Secretary, who had +learned by much experience that many and devious are the bypaths which +lead away from the polls! + +"Yer brother Angus will be sure to bring him in, won't he, Milt?" asked +John Gray, the trusting one, who believed all men to be brothers. + +There was a tense silence. + +Milt took his pipe from his mouth. "My brother Angus," he began, +dramatically, girding himself for the effort--for Milt was an orator of +Twelfth of July fame--"Angus Kennedy, my brother, bred and reared, and +reared and bred, in the principles of Conservatism, as my poor old +father often says, has gone over--has deserted our banners, has steeped +himself in the false teachings of the Grits. Angus, my brother," he +concluded, impressively, "is--not right!" + +"What's wrong with him?" asked Jim Grover, who was of an analytical +turn of mind. + +"Too late to discuss that now!" broke in the Secretary; "we cannot +trace Angus's downfall, but we can send out and get in John Thomas. We +need his vote--it's just as good as anybody's." + +Jimmy Rice volunteered to go out and get him. Jimmy did not believe in +leaving anything to chance. He had been running an auto all week and +would just as soon work at night as any other time. Big Jack Moore, +another enthusiastic Conservative, agreed to go with him. + +When they made the ten-mile run to the home of the apostate Angus, they +met him coming down the path with a lantern in his hand on the way to +feed his horses. + +They, being plain, blunt men, unaccustomed to the amenities of election +time, and not knowing how to skilfully approach a subject of this kind, +simply announced that they had come for John Thomas. + +"He's not here," said Angus, looking around the circle of light that +the lantern threw. + +"Are you sure?" asked James Rice, after a painful pause. + +"Yes," said Angus, with exaggerated ease, affecting not to notice the +significance of the question. "Jack went to Nelson to-day, and he ain't +back yet. He went about three o'clock," went on Angus, endeavoring to +patch up a shaky story with a little interesting detail. "He took over +a bunch of pigs for me that I am shippin' into Winnipeg, and he was +goin' to bring back some lumber." + +"I was in Nelson to-day, Angus," said John Moore, sternly; "just came +from there, and I did not see John Thomas." + +Angus, though fallen and misguided, was not entirely unregenerate; a +lie sat awkwardly on his honest lips, and now that his feeble effort at +deception had miscarried, he felt himself adrift on a boundless sea. He +wildly felt around for a reply, and was greatly relieved by the arrival +of his father on the scene, who, seeing the lights of the auto in the +yard, had come out hurriedly to see what was the matter. Grandpa +Kennedy, although nearing his ninetieth birthday, was still a man of +affairs, and what was still more important on this occasion, a lifelong +Conservative. Grandpa knew it was the night before the election; he +also had seen what he had seen. Grandpa might be getting on, but he +could see as far through a cellar door as the next one. Angus, glad of +a chance to escape, went on to the stable, leaving the visiting +gentlemen to be entertained by Grandpa. + +Grandpa was a diplomat; he wanted to have no hard feelings with anyone. + +"Good-night, boys," he cried, in his shrill voice; he recognized the +occupants of the auto and his quick brain took in the situation. "Don't +it beat all how the frost keeps off? This reminds me of the fall, +'leven years ago--we had no frost till the end of the month. I ripened +three bushels of Golden Queen tomatoes!" All this was delivered in a +very high voice for Angus's benefit--to show him, if he were listening, +how perfectly innocent the conversation was. + +Then as Angus's lantern disappeared behind the stable, the old man's +voice was lowered, and he gave forth this cryptic utterance: + +"_John Thomas is in the cellar_." + +Then he gaily resumed his chatter, although Angus was safe in the +stable; but Grandpa knew what he knew, and Angus's woman might be +listening at the back door. "Much election talk in town, boys?" he +asked, breezily. They answered him at random. Then his voice fell +again. "Angle's dead against Brown--won't let you have John Thomas--put +him down cellar soon as he saw yer lights; Angie's woman is sittin on +the door knittin'--she's wors'n him--don't let on I give it away--I +don't want no words with her!--Yes, it's grand weather for threshin'; +won't you come on away in? I guess yer horse will stand." The old man +roared with laughter at his own joke. + +John Moore and James Rice went back to headquarters for further advice. +Angus's woman sitting on the cellar door knitting was a contingency +that required to be met with guile. + +Consternation sat on the face of the Committee when they told their +story. They had not counted on this. The wildest plans were discussed. +Tom Stubbins began a lengthy story of an elopement that happened down +at the "Carp," where the bride made a rope of the sheets and came down +from an upstairs window. Tom was not allowed to finish his narrative, +though, for it was felt that the cases were not similar. + +No one seemed to be particularly anxious to go back and interrupt Mrs. +Angus's knitting. + +Then there came into the assembly one of the latest additions to the +Conservative ranks, William Batters, a converted and reformed Liberal. +He had been an active member of the Liberal party for many years, but +at the last election he had been entirely convinced of their +unworthiness by the close-fisted and niggardly way in which they +dispensed the election money. + +He heard the situation discussed in all its aspects. Milton Kennedy, +with inflamed oratory, bitterly bewailed his brother's defection--"not +only wrong himself, but leadin' others, and them innocent lambs!"--but +he did not offer to go out and see his brother. The lady who sat +knitting on the cellar door seemed to be the difficulty with all of +them. + +The reformed Liberal had a plan. + +"I will go for him," said he. "Angus will trust me--he doesn't know I +have turned. I'll go for John Thomas, and Angus will give him to me +without a word, thinkin' I'm a friend," he concluded, brazenly. + +"Look at that now!" exclaimed the member elect. "Say, boys, you'd know +he had been a Grit--no honest, open-faced Conservative would ever think +of a trick like that!" + +"There is nothing like experience to make a man able to see every +side," said the reformed one, with becoming modesty. + +An hour later Angus was roused from his bed by a loud knock on the +door. Angus had gone to bed with his clothes on, knowing that these +were troublesome times. + +"What's the row?" he asked, when he had cautiously opened the door. + +"Row!" exclaimed the friend who was no longer a friend, "You're the man +that's makin' the row. The Conservatives have 'phoned in to the +Attorney-General's Department to-night to see what's to be done with +you for standin' between a man and his heaven-born birthright, keepin' +and confinin' of a man in a cellar, owned by and closed by you!" + +This had something the air of a summons, and Angus was duly impressed. + +"I don't want to see you get into trouble. Angus," Mr. Batters went on; +"and the only way to keep out of it is to give him to me, and then when +they come out here with a search-warrant they won't find nothin'." + +Angus thanked him warmly, and, going upstairs, roused the innocent John +from his virtuous slumbers. He had some trouble persuading John, who +was a profound sleeper, that he must arise and go hence; but many +things were strange to him, and he rose and dressed without very much +protest. + +Angus was distinctly relieved when he got John Thomas off his hands--he +felt he had had a merciful deliverance. + +On the way to town, roused by the night air, John Thomas became +communicative. + +"Them lads in the automobile, they wanted me pretty bad, you bet," he +chuckled, with the conscious pride of the much-sought-after; "but gosh, +Angus fixed them. He just slammed down the cellar door on me, and says +he, 'Not a word out of you, Jack; you've as good a right to vote the +way you want to as anybody, and you'll get it, too, you bet.'" + +The reformed Liberal knitted his brows. What was this simple child of +nature driving at? + +John Thomas rambled on: "Tom Brown can't fool people with brains, you +bet you--Angus's woman explained it all to me. She says to me, 'Don't +let nobody run you, Jack--and vote for Hastings. You're all right, +Jack--and remember Hastings is the man. Never mind why--don't bother +your head--you don't have to--but vote for Hastings.' Says she, 'Don't +let on to Milt, or any of his folks, or Grandpa, but vote the way you +want to, and that's for Hastings!'" + +When they arrived in town the reformed Liberal took John Thomas at once +to the Conservative Hotel, and put him in a room, and told him to go to +bed, which John cheerfully did. Then he went for the Secretary, who was +also in bed. "I've got John Thomas," he announced, "but he says he's a +Grit and is going to vote for Hastings. I can't put a dint in him--he +thinks I'm a Grit, too. He's only got one idea, but it's a solid one, +and that is 'Vote for Hastings.'" + +The Secretary yawned sleepily. "I'll not go near him. It's me for +sleep. You can go and see if any of the other fellows want a job. +They're all down at a ball at the station. Get one of those wakeful +spirits to reason with John." + +The conspirator made his way stealthily to the station, from whence +there issued the sound of music and dancing. Not wishing to alarm the +Grits, many of whom were joining in the festivities, and who would have +been quick to suspect that something was on foot, if they saw him +prowling around, he crept up to the window and waited until one of the +faithful came near. Gently tapping on the glass, he got the attention +of the editor, the very man he wanted, and, in pantomime, gave him to +understand that his presence was requested. The editor, pleading a +terrific headache, said good-night, or rather good-morning, to his +hostess, and withdrew. From his fellow-worker who waited in the shadow +of the trees outside, he learned that John Thomas had been secured in +the body but not in spirit. + +The newspaper man readily agreed to labor with the erring brother and +hoped to be able to deliver his soul alive. + +Once again was John Thomas roused from his slumbers, and not by a +familiar voice this time, but by an unknown vision in evening dress. + +The editor was a convincing man in his way, whether upon the subject of +reciprocity or apostolic succession, but John was plainly bored from +the beginning, and though he offered no resistance, his repeated "I +know that!" "That's what I said!" were more disconcerting than the most +vigorous opposition. At daylight the editor left John, and he really +had the headache that he had feigned a few hours before. + +Then John Thomas tried to get a few winks of unmolested repose, but it +was election day, and the house was early astir. Loud voices sounded +through the hall. Innumerable people, it seemed, mistook his room for +their own. Jack rose at last, thoroughly indignant and disposed to +quarrel. He had a blame good notion to vote for Brown after all, after +the way he had been treated. + +When he had hastily dressed himself, discussing his grievances in a +loud voice, he endeavored to leave the room, but found the door +securely locked. Then his anger knew no bounds. He lustily kicked on +the lower panel of the door and fairly shrieked his indignation and +rage. + +The chambermaid, passing, remonstrated with him by beating on the other +side of the door. She was a pert young woman with a squeaky voice, and +she thought she knew what was wrong with the occupant of 17. She had +heard kicks on doors before. + +"Quiet down, you, mister, or you'll get yourself put in the cooler-- +that's the best place for noisy drunks." + +This, of course, annoyed the innocent man beyond measure, but she was +gone far down the hall before he could think of the retort suitable. + +When she finished her upstairs work and came downstairs to peel the +potatoes, she mentioned casually to the bartender that whoever he had +in number 17 was "smashin' things up pretty lively!" + +The bartender went up and liberated the indignant voter, who by this +time had his mind made up to vote against both Brown and Hastings, and +furthermore to renounce politics in all its aspects for evermore. + +However, a good breakfast and the sincere apologies of the hotel people +did much to restore his good humor. But a certain haziness grew in his +mind as to who was who, and at times the disquieting thought skidded +through his murky brain that he might be in the enemy's camp for all he +knew. Angus and Mrs. Angus had said, "Do what you think is right and +vote for Hastings," and that was plain and simple and easily +understood. But now things seemed to be all mixed up. + +The committee were ill at ease about him. The way he wagged his head +and declared he knew what was what, you bet, was very disquieting, and +the horrible fear haunted them that they were perchance cherishing a +serpent in their bosom. + +The Secretary had a proposal: "Take him out to Milt Kennedy's. Milt +said he could work him. Take him out there! Milt said all he had to do +was to raise his eyes and John Thomas would vote right." + +The erstwhile Liberal again went on the road with John Thomas, to +deliver him over to the authority of Milt Kennedy. If Milt could get +results by simply elevating his eyebrows, Milt was the man who was +needed. + +Arriving at Milt's, he left the voter sitting in the buggy, while he +went in search of the one who could control John's erring judgment. + +While sitting there alone, another wandering thought zig-zagged through +John's brain. They were making a fool of him, some way! Well, he'd let +them see, b'gosh! + +He jumped out of the buggy, and hastily climbed into the hay-mow. It +was a safe and quiet spot, and was possessed of several convenient +eye-holes through which he could watch with interest the search which +immediately began. + +He saw the two men coming up to the barn, and as they passed almost +below him, he heard Milt say, "Oh, sure, John Thomas will vote right--I +can run him all right!--he'll do as I say. Hello, John! Where is he?" + +They went into the house--they searched the barn--they called, coaxed, +entreated. They ran down to the road to see if he had started back to +town; he was as much gone as if he had never been! + +"Are you dead sure you brought him?" Milt asked at last in desperation, +as he turned over a pile of sacks in the granary. + +"Gosh! ain't they lookin' some!" chuckled the elusive voter, as he +watched with delight their unsuccessful endeavors to locate him. "But +there's lots of places yet that they hain't thought of; they hain't +half looked for me yet. I may be in the well for all they know." Then +he began to sing to himself, "I know something I won't tell!" + +It was not every day that John Thomas Green found himself the centre of +attraction, and he enjoyed the sensation. + +Having lost so much sleep the night before, a great drowsiness fell on +John Thomas, and curling himself up in the hay, he sank into a sweet, +sound sleep. + +While he lay there, safe from alarms, the neighborhood was shaken with +a profound sensation. John Thomas was lost. Lost, and his vote lost +with him! + +Milton Kennedy, who had to act as scrutineer at the poll in town, was +forced to leave home with the mystery unsolved. Before going, he +'phoned to Billy Adams, one of the faithful, and in guarded speech, +knowing that he was surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, broke the news! +Billy Adams immediately left his stacking, and set off to find his lost +compatriot. + +Mrs. Alex Porter lived on the next farm to Billy Adams, and being a +lady of some leisure, she usually managed to get in on most of the +'phone conversations. Billy Adams' calls were very seldom overlooked by +her, for she was on the other side of politics, and it was always well +to know what was going on. Although she did not know all that was said +by the two men, she heard enough to assure her that crooked work was +going on. Mrs. Alex Porter declared she was not surprised. She threw +her apron over her head and went to the field and told Alex. Alex was +not surprised. In fact, it seems Alex had expected it! + +They 'phoned in cipher to Angus, Mrs. Angus being a sister of Mrs. Alex +Porter. Mrs. Angus told them to speak out plain, and say what they +wanted to, even if all the Conservatives on the line were listening. +Then Mrs. Porter said that John Thomas was lost over at Milt Kennedy's. +They had probably drugged him or something. + +Then Angus's wife said he was safe enough. Billy Batters had come and +got him the night before. At the mention of Billy Batters there was a +sound of suppressed mirth all along the line. Mrs. Angus's sister +fairly shrieked. "Billy Batters! Don't you know he has turned +Conservative!--he's working tooth and nail for Brown." Mrs. Angus +called Angus excitedly. Everybody talked at once; somebody laughed; one +or two swore. Mrs. Porter told Milt Kennedy's wife she'd caught her +eavesdropping this time sure. She'd know her cackle any place, and +Milt's wife told Mrs. Porter to shut up--she needn't talk about +eavesdroppers,--good land! and Mrs. Porter told Mrs. Milt she should +try something for that voice of hers, and recommended machine oil, and +Central rang in and told them they'd all have their 'phones taken out +if they didn't stop quarreling; and John Thomas, in the hay-mow, slept +on, as peacefully as an innocent babe! + +In the committee rooms, Jack's disappearance was excitedly discussed. +The Conservatives were not sure that Bill Batters was not giving them +the double cross--once a Grit, always a Grit! Angus was threatening to +have him arrested for abduction--he had beguiled John Thomas from the +home of his friends, and then carelessly lost him. + +William Batters realized that he had lost favor in both places, and +anxiously longed for a sight of John Thomas's red face, vote or no +vote. + +At four o'clock John Thomas awoke much refreshed, but very hungry. He +went into the house in search of something to eat. Milton and his wife +had gone into town many hours before, but he found what he wanted, and +was going back to the hay-mow to finish his sleep, just as Billy Adams +was going home after having cast his vote. + +Billy Adams seized him eagerly, and rapidly drove back to town. Jack's +vote would yet be saved to the party! + +It was with pardonable pride that Billy Adams reined in his foaming +team, and rushed John Thomas into the polling booth, where he was +greeted with loud cheers. Nobody dare ask him where he had been--time +was too precious. Milton Kennedy, scrutineer, lifted his eyebrows as +per agreement. Jack replied with a petulant shrug of his good shoulder +and passed in to the inner chamber. + +The Conservatives were sure they had him. The Liberals were sure, too. +Mrs. Angus was sure Jack would vote right after the way she had +reasoned with him and showed him! + +When the ballots were counted, there were several spoiled ones, of +course. But there was one that was rather unique. After the name of +Thomas Brown, there was written in lead pencil, "_None of yer +business_!" which might have indicated a preference for the other name +of John Hastings, only for the fact that opposite his name was the curt +remark, "_None of yer business, either_!" + +Some thought the ballot was John Thomas Green's. + + + + +THE WAY OF THE WEST + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Globe_, Toronto.) + +Thomas Shouldice was displeased, sorely, bitterly displeased: in fact, +he was downright mad, and being an Irish Orangeman, this means that he +was ready to fight. You can imagine just how bitterly Mr. Shouldice was +incensed when you hear that the Fourth of July had been celebrated with +flourish of flags and blare of trumpets right under his very nose--in +Canada--in British dominions! + +The First of July, the day that should have been given up to "doin's," +including the race for the greased pig, the three-legged race, and a +ploughing match, had passed into obscurity, without so much as a +pie-social; and it had rained that day, too, in torrents, just as if +Nature herself did not care enough about the First to try to keep it dry. + +The Fourth came in a glorious day, all sunshine and blue sky, with +birds singing in every poplar bluff, and it was given such a +celebration as Thomas had never seen since the "Twelfth" had been held +in Souris. The American settlers who had been pouring into the Souris +valley had--without so much as asking leave from the Government at +Ottawa, the school trustees, or the oldest settler, who was Thomas +himself--gone ahead and celebrated. Every American family had brought +their own flagpole, in "joints," with them, and on the Fourth immense +banners of stars and stripes spread their folds in triumph on the +breeze. + +The celebration was held in a large grove just across the road from +Thomas Shouldice's little house; and to his inflamed patriotism, every +firecracker that split the air, every cheer that rent the heavens, +every blare of their smashing band music, seemed a direct challenge to +King Edward himself, God bless him! + +Mr. Shouldice worked all day at his hay-meadow, just to show them! He +worked hard, too, never deigning a glance at their "carryin's on," just +to let them know that he did not care two cents for their Fourth of +July. + +His first thought was to feign indifference, but when he saw the +Wilsons, the Wrays, the Henrys, Canadian-bred and born, driving over to +the enemy's camp, with their Sunday clothes on and big boxes of +provisions on the "doggery" of their buckboards, his indifference fled +and was replaced by profanity. It comforted him a little when he +reflected that not an Orangeman had gone. They were loyal sons and +true, every one of them. These other ignorant Canadians might forget +what they owed to the old flag, but the Orangemen--never. + +Thomas's rage against the Yankees was intensified when he saw Father +O'Flynn walking across the plover slough. Then he was sure that the +Americans and Catholics were in league against the British. + +A mighty thought was conceived that day in the brain of Thomas +Shouldice, late Worshipful Master of the Carleton Place Loyal Orange +Lodge No. 23. They would celebrate the Twelfth, so they would; he'd +like to see who would stop them. Someone would stand up for the flag +that had braved a thousand years of battle and the breeze. He blew his +nose noisily on his red handkerchief when he thought of this. + +They would celebrate the Twelfth! They would "walk." He would gather up +"the boys" and get someone to make a speech. They would get a fifer +from Brandon. It was the fife that could stir the heart in you! And the +fifer would play "The Protestant Boys" and "Rise, Sons of William, +Rise!" Anyone that tried to stop him would get a shirt full of sore +bones! + +Thomas went home full of the plan to get back at the invaders! +Rummaging through his trunk, he found, carefully wrapped with chewing +tobacco and ground cedar, to keep the moths away, the regalia that he +had worn, proudly and defiantly, once in Montreal, when the crowd that +obstructed the triumphal march of the Orange Young Britons had to be +dispersed by the "melitia." It was a glorious day, and one to be +remembered with pride, for there had been shots fired and heads +smashed. + +His man, a guileless young Englishman, came in from mowing, gaily +whistling the refrain the Yankee band had been playing at intervals all +afternoon. It was "Dixie Land," and at first Thomas did not notice it. +Rousing at last to the sinister significance of the tune, he ordered +its cessation, in rosy-hued terms, and commended all such Yankee tunes +and those that whistled them to that region where popular rumor has it +that pots boil with or without watching. + +Thomas Shouldice had lived by himself for a number of years. It was +supposed that he had a wife living somewhere in "the States," which +term to many Canadians indicates a shadowy region where bad boys, +unfaithful wives and absconding embezzlers find refuge and dwell in dim +security. + +Thomas's devotion to the Orange Order was nothing short of a passion. +He believed that but for its institution and perpetuation Protestant +blood would flow like water. He always spoke of the "Stuarts" in an +undertone, as if he were afraid they might even yet come back and make +"rough house" for King Edward. + +There were only two Catholic families in the neighborhood, and +peaceable, friendly people they were, too; but Thomas believed they +should be intimidated to prevent trouble. "The old spite is in them," +he told himself, "and nothing will show them where they stand like a +'walk.'" + +The next day Thomas left his haying and rounded up the faithful. There +were seven members of the order in the community, all of whom were +willing to stand for their country's honor. There was James Shewfelt, +who was a drummer, and could play the tunes without the fife at all. +There was John Barker, who did a musical turn in the form of a twenty- +three verse ballad beginning: + + "When Popery did flourish in + Dear Ireland o'er the sea, + There came a man from Amsterdam + To set ould Ireland free! + To set ould Ireland free, boys, + To set ould Ireland free,-- + There came a man from Amsterdam + To set ould Ireland free!" + +There was William Breeze, who was a little hard of hearing, but loyal +to the core. He had seven boys in his family, so there was still hope +for the nation. There was Patrick Mooney, who should have been wearing +the other color if there is anything in a name. But there isn't. There +was John Burns, who had been an engineer, but, having lost a foot, had +taken to farming. He was the farthest advanced in the order next to +Thomas Shouldice, having served a term as District Grand Master, and +was well up in the Grand Black Chapter. These would form the nucleus of +the procession. The seven little Breezes would be admitted to the ranks +if their mother could find suitable decoration for them. Of course, the +weather was warm and the subject of clothing was not so serious as it +might have been. + +Thomas drove nineteen miles to the nearest town to get a speaker and a +fifer. The fifer was found, and, quite fortunately, was open for +engagement. The speaker was not so easily secured. Thomas went to the +Methodist missionary. The missionary was quite a young man and had the +reputation of being an orator. He listened gravely while his visitor +unfolded his plan. + +"I'll tell you what to do, Mr. Shouldice," he said, smiling, when the +other had finished the recital of his country's wrongs. "Get Father +O'Flynn; he'll make you a speech that will do you all good." + +Thomas was too astonished for words. "But he's a Papist!" he sputtered +at last. + +"Oh, pshaw! Oh, pshaw! Mr. Shouldice," the young man exclaimed; +"there's no division of creed west of Winnipeg. The little priest does +all my sick visiting north of the river, and I do his on the south. +He's a good preacher, and the finest man at a deathbed I ever saw." + +"This is not a deathbed, though, as it happens," Thomas replied, with +dignity. + +The young minister threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "Can't +tell that until it is over--I've been at a few Orange walks down East, +you know--took part in one myself once." + +"Did you walk?" Thomas asked, brightening. + +"No, I ran," the minister said, smiling. + +"I thought you said you took part," Thomas snorted, with displeasure. + +"So I did, but mine was a minor part. I stood behind the fence and +helped the Brennan boys and Patrick Costigan to peg at them!" + +"Are ye a Protestant at all?" Thomas roared at him, now thoroughly +angry. + +"Yes, I am," the minister said, slowly, "and I am something better +still; I am a Christian and a Canadian. Are you?" + +Thomas beat a hasty retreat. + +The Presbyterian minister was away from home, and the English Church +minister--who was also a young man lately arrived--said he would go +gladly. + +The Twelfth of July was a beautiful day, clear, sparkling and +cloudless. Little wayward breezes frolicked up and down the banks of +Moose Creek and rasped the surface of its placid pools, swollen still +from the heavy rains of the "First." In the glittering sunshine the +prairie lay a riot of color; the first wild roses now had faded to a +pastel pink, but on every bush there were plenty of new ones, deeply +crimson and odorous. Across the creek from Thomas Shouldice's little +house, Indian pipes and columbine reddened the edge of the poplar +grove, from the lowest branches of which morning-glories, white and +pink and purple, hung in graceful profusion. + +Before noon a wagon filled with people came thundering down the trail. +As they came nearer Thomas was astonished to see that it was an +American family from the Chippen Hill district. + +"Picnic in these parts, ain't there?" the driver asked. + +Thomas was in a genial mood, occasioned by the day and the weather. + +"Orange walk and picnic!" he replied, waving his hand toward the bluff, +where a few of the faithful were constructing a triumphal arch. + +"Something like a cake-walk, is it?" the man asked, looking puzzled. + +Mr. Shouldice stared at him incredulously. + +"Did ye never hear of Orangemen down yer way?" he said. + +"Never did, pard," the man answered. "We've peanut men, and apple +women, and banana men, but we've never heard much about orange men. But +we're right glad to come over and help the show along. Do you want any +money for the races?" + +"We didn't count on havin' races; we're havin' speeches and some +singin'." + +The Yankee laughed good-humoredly. + +"Well, friend, I pass there; but mother here is a W.C.T.U.-er from away +back. She'll knock the spots off the liquor business in fifteen +minutes, if you'd like anything in that line." + +His wife interposed in her easy, drawling tones: "Now, Abe, you best +shet up and drive along. The kids are all hungry and want their +dinners." + +"We'll see you later, partner," said the man as they drove away. + +Thomas Shouldice was mystified. "These Americans are a queer bunch," he +thought; "they're ignorant as all get out, but, gosh! they're +friendly." + +Over the hill to the south came other wagons filled with jolly +picnickers, who soon had their pots boiling over quickly-constructed +tripods. + +Thomas, who went over to welcome them, found that nearly all of them +were the very Americans whose unholy zeal for their own national +holiday had so embittered his heart eight days before. + +They were full of enquiries as to the meaning of an Orange walk. Thomas +tried to explain, but, having only inflamed Twelfth of July oratory for +the source of his information, he found himself rather at a loss. But +the Americans gathered that it was something he used to do "down East," +and they were sympathetic at once. + +"That's right, you bet," one gray-haired man with a young face +exclaimed, getting rid of a bulky chew of tobacco that had slightly +impeded his utterance. "There's nothin' like keepin' up old +institootions." + +By two o'clock fully one hundred people had gathered. + +Thomas was radiant. "Every wan is here now except that old Papist, +O'Flynn," he whispered to the drummer. "I hope he'll come, too, so I +do. It'll be a bitter pill for him to swallow." + +The drummer did not share the wish. He was thinking, uneasily, of the +time two years ago--the winter of the deep snow--when he and his family +had been quarantined with smallpox, and of how Father O'Flynn had come +miles out of his way every week on his snowshoes to hand in a roll of +newspapers he had gathered up, no one knows where, and a bag of candies +for the little ones. He was thinking of how welcome the priest's little +round face had been to them all those long, tedious six weeks, and how +cheery his voice sounded as he shouted, "Are ye needin' anything, +Jimmy, avick? All right, I'll be back on Thursda', God willin'. Don't +be frettin', now, man alive! Everybody has to have the smallpox. Sure, +yer shaming the Catholics this year, Jimmy, keeping Lent so well." The +drummer was decidedly uneasy. + +There is an old saying about speaking of angels in which some people +still believe. Just at this moment Father O'Flynn came slowly over the +hill. + +Father O'Flynn was a typical little Irish priest, good-natured, witty, +emotional. Nearly every family north of the river had some cause for +loving the little man. He was a tireless walker, making the round of +his parish every week, no matter what the weather. He had a little +house built for him the year before at the Forks of the Assiniboine, +where he had planted a garden, set out plants and flowers, and made it +a little bower of beauty; but he had lived in it only one summer, for +an impecunious English couple, who needed a roof to cover them rather +urgently, had taken possession of it during his absence, and the kind- +hearted little father could not bring himself to ask them to vacate. +When his friends remonstrated with him, he turned the conversation by +telling them of another and a better Man of whom it was written that He +"had not where to lay His head." + +Father O'Flynn was greeted with delight, by the younger ones +especially. The seven little Breezes were very demonstrative, and +Thomas Shouldice resolved to warn their father against the priest's +malign influence. He recalled a sentence or two from "Maria Monk," +which said something like this: "Give us a child until he is ten years +old, and let us teach him our doctrine, and he's ours for evermore." + +"Oh, they're deep ones, them Jesuits!" + +Father O'Flynn was just in time for the "walk." + +"Do you know what an Orange walk is, father?" one of the American women +asked, really looking for information. + +"Yes, daughter, yes," the little priest answered, a shadow coming into +his merry grey eyes. He gave her an evasive reply, and then murmured to +himself, as he picked a handful of orange lilies: "It is an institution +of the Evil One to sow discord among brothers." + +The walk began. + +First came the fife and drum, skirling out an Orange tune, at which the +little priest winced visibly. Then followed Thomas Shouldice, in the +guise of King William. He was mounted on his own old, spavined grey +mare, that had performed this honorable office many times in her youth. +But now she seemed lacking in the pride that befits the part. Thomas +himself was gay with ribbons and a short red coat, whose gilt braid was +sadly tarnished. One of the Yankees had kindly loaned a mottled buggy- +robe for the saddle-cloth. + +Behind Thomas marched the twenty-three-verse soloist and the other +faithful few, followed by the seven Breeze boys, gay with yellow +streamers made from the wrapping of a ham. + +The Yankees grouped about were sorry to see so few in the procession. +They had brought along three or four of their band instruments to +furnish music if it were needed. As the end of the procession passed +them, two of the smaller boys swung in behind the last two Breezes. + +It was an inspiration. Instantly the whole company stepped into line-- +two by two, men, women, and children, waving their bunches of lilies! + +Thomas, from his point of vantage, could see the whole company +following his lead, and his heart swelled with pride. Under the arch +the procession swept, stepping to the music, the significance of which +most of the company did not even guess at--good-natured, neighborly, +filled with the spirit of the West, that ever seeks to help along. + +Everyone, even Father O'Flynn, was happier than James Shewfelt, the +drummer. + +The fifer paused, preparatory to changing the tune. It was the +drummer's opportunity. "Onward, Christian Soldiers," he sang, tapping +the rhythm on the drum. The fifer caught the strain. Not a voice was +silent, and unconsciously hand clasped hand, and the soft afternoon air +reverberated with the swelling cadence: + +"We are not divided, +All one body we." + +When the verse was done the fifer led off into another and another. The +little priest's face glowed with pleasure. "It is the Spirit of the +Lord," he whispered to himself, as he marched to the rhythm, his hand +closely held by the smallest Breeze boy, whose yellow streamers and +profuse decoration of orange lilies were at strange variance with his +companion's priestly robes. But on this day nothing was at variance. +The spirit of the West was upon them, unifying, mellowing, harmonizing +all conflicting emotions--the spirit of the West that calls on men +everywhere to be brothers and lend a hand. + +The Church of England minister did make a speech, but not the one he +had intended. Instead of denominationalism, he spoke of brotherhood; +instead of religious intolerance, he spoke of religious liberty; +instead of the Prince of Orange, who crossed the Boyne to give +religious freedom to Ireland, he told of the Prince of Peace, who died +on the cross to save the souls of men of every nation and kindred and +tribe. + +In the hush that followed Father O'Flynn stepped forward and said he +thanked the brother who had planned this meeting; he was glad, he said, +for such an opportunity for friends and neighbors to meet; he spoke of +the glorious heritage that all had in this great new country, and how +all must stand together as brothers. All prejudices of race and creed +and doctrine die before the wonderful power of loving service. "The +West," he said, "is the home of loving hearts and neighborly kindness, +where all men's good is each man's care. For myself," he went on, "I +have but one wish, and that is to be the servant of all, to be the +ambassador of Him who went about doing good, and to teach the people to +love honor and virtue, and each other." Then, raising his hands, he led +the company in that prayer that comes ever to the lips of man when all +other prayers seem vain--that prayer that we can all fall back on in +our sore need: + +"Our Father, who art in heaven, +Hallowed be Thy name, +Thy Kingdom come." + +Two hours later a tired but happy and united company sat down to supper +on the grass. At the head of the table sat Thomas Shouldice, radiating +good-will. A huge white pitcher of steaming golden coffee was in his +hand. He poured a cup of it brimming full, and handed it to the little +priest, who sat near him. "Have some coffee, father?" he said. + +Where could such a scene as this be enacted--a Twelfth of July +celebration where a Roman Catholic priest was the principal speaker, +where the company dispersed with the singing of "God Save the King," +led by an American band? + +Nowhere, but in the Northwest of Canada, that illimitable land, with +its great sunlit spaces, where the west wind, bearing on its bosom the +spices of a million flowers, woos the heart of man with a magic spell +and makes him kind and neighborly and brotherly! + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Black Creek Stopping-House, by Nellie McClung + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 10164 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe0060f --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #10164 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10164) diff --git a/old/10164-8.txt b/old/10164-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..053de76 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10164-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5357 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Black Creek Stopping-House, by Nellie McClung + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Black Creek Stopping-House + +Author: Nellie McClung + +Release Date: November 21, 2003 [EBook #10164] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Brendan Lane, carol david and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE + +AND + +OTHER STORIES + +BY + +NELLIE L. McCLUNG + +Copyright, 1912 + +_To the Pioneer Women of the West, who made life tolerable, and even +comfortable, for the others of us; who fed the hungry, advised the +erring, nursed the sick, cheered the dying, comforted the sorrowing, +and performed the last sad rites for the dead; + +The beloved Pioneer Women, old before their time with hard work, +privations, and doing without things, yet in whose hearts there was +always burning the hope of better things to come; + +The godly Pioneer Women, who kept alive the conscience of the +neighborhood, and preserved for us the best traditions of the race; + +To these noble Women of the early days, some of whom we see no more, +for they have entered into their inheritance, this book is respectfully +dedicated by their humble admirer, + +The Author._ + +"_Let me live in a house by the side of the road, and be a friend of +man_." + + + +CONTENTS + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE-- + +CHAPTER + I. The Old Trail + II. The House of Bread + III. The Sailors' Rest + IV. Farm Pupils + V. The Prairie Club-House + VI. The Counter-Irritant + VII. Ladies' Day at the Stopping-House + VIII. Shadows of the Night + IX. His Evil Genius + X. Da's Turn + XI. The Blizzard + XII. When the Day Broke + +THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER + +THE RETURN TICKET + +THE UNGRATEFUL PIGEONS + +YOU NEVER CAN TELL + +A SHORT TALE OF A RABBIT + +THE ELUSIVE VOTE + +THE WAY OF THE WEST + + + + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE + + +CHAPTER I. + +_THE OLD TRAIL._ + +When John Corbett strolled leisurely into the Salvation Army meeting in +old Victoria Hall in Winnipeg that night, so many years ago now, there +may have been some who thought he came to disturb the meeting. + +There did not seem to be any atmospheric reason why Mr. Corbett or +anyone else should be abroad, for it was a drizzling cold November +night, and the streets were muddy, as only Winnipeg streets in the old +days could be--none of your light-minded, fickle-hearted, changeable +mud that is mud to-day and dust to-morrow, but the genuine, original, +brush-defying, soap-and-water-proof, north star, burr mud, blacker than +lampblack, stickier than glue! + +Mr. Corbett did not come to disturb the meeting. His reason for +attending lay in a perfectly legitimate desire to see for himself what +it was all about, he being happily possessed of an open mind. + +Mr. Corbett would do anything once, and if he liked it he would do it +again. In the case of the Salvation Army meeting, he liked it. He liked +the music, and the good fellowship, and the swing and the zip of it +all. More still, he liked the blue-eyed Irish girl who sold _War Crys_ +at the door. When he went in he bought one; when he came out he bought +all she had left. + +The next night Mr. Corbett was again at the meeting. On his way in he +bought all the _War Crys_ the blue-eyed Irish girl had. Every minute he +liked her better, and when the meeting was over and an invitation was +given to the anxious ones to "tarry awhile," Mr. Corbett tarried. When +the other cases had been dismissed Mr. Corbett had a long talk with the +captain in charge. + +Mr. Corbett was a gentleman of private means, though he was accustomed +to explain his manner of making a livelihood, when questioned by +magistrates and other interested persons, by saying he was employed in +a livery stable. When further pressed by these insatiably curious +people as to what his duties in the livery stable were, he always +described his position as that of "chamber maid." Here the magistrates +and other questioners thought that Mr. Corbett was disposed to be +facetious, but he was perfectly sincere, and he had described his work +more accurately than they gave him credit for. It might have been more +illuminative if he had said that in the livery stable of Pacer and +Kelly he did the "upstairs" work. + +It was a small but well appointed room in which Mr. Corbett worked. It +had an unobtrusive narrow stairway leading up to it. The only furniture +it contained was several chairs and a round table with a well-concealed +drawer, which opened with a spring, and held four packs and an assorted +variety of chips! Its one window was well provided with a heavy blind. +Here Mr. Corbett was able to accommodate any or all who felt that they +would like to give Fortune a chance to be kind to them. + +The night after Mr. Corbett had attended the Salvation Army meeting, +his "upstairs" room was as dark inside as it always appeared to be on +the outside. Two anxious ones, whose money was troubling them, had to +be turned away disappointed. Mr. Corbett had left word downstairs that +he was going out. + +After Mr. Corbett had explained the situation to the Salvation Army +captain, the captain took a day to consider. Then Mrs. Murphy, mother +of Maggie Murphy who sold _War Crys_, was consulted. Mrs. Murphy had +long been a soldier in the Army, and she had seen so many brands +plucked from the burning that she was not disposed to discourage Mr. +Corbett in his new desire to "do diff'rent." + +Soon after this Mr. Corbett, in his own words, "pulled his freight" +from the Brunswick Hotel, where he had been a long, steady boarder, and +installed himself in the only vacant room in the Murphy house, having +read the black and white card in the parlor window, which proclaimed +"Furnished Rooms and Table Board," and regarding it as a providential +opportunity for him to see Maggie Murphy in action! + +Having watched Maggie Murphy wait on table in the daytime and sell _War +Crys_ at night for a week or more, Mr. Corbett decided he liked her +methods. The way she poised a tray of teacups on her head proclaimed +her a true artist. + +At the end of two weeks Mr. Corbett stated his case to Mrs. Murphy and +Maggie. + +"I've a poor hand," he declared; "but I am willing to play it out if +Maggie will sit opposite me and be my partner. I have only one gift-- +I'm handy with cards and I can deal myself three out of the four aces-- +but that's not much good to a man who tries to earn an honest living. I +am willing to try work--it may be all right for anything I know. If +Maggie will take me I'll promise to leave cards alone, and I'll do +whatever she thinks I ought to do." + +Maggie and her mother took a few days to consider. On one point their +minds were very clear. If Maggie "took" him, he could not keep any of +the money he had won gambling--he would have to start honest. Mr. +Corbett had, fortunately, arrived at the same conclusion himself, so +that point was easily disposed of. + +"It ain't for us to be hard on anyone that's tryin' to do better," said +Maggie's mother, as she rolled out the crust for the dried-apple pies. +"He's wasted his substance, and wasted his days, but who knows but the +Lord can use him yet to His honor and glory. The Lord ain't like us, +havin' to wait until He gets everything to His own likin', but He can +go ahead with whatever comes to His hand. He can do His work with poor +tools, and it's well for Him He can, and well for us, too." + +Maggie Murphy and John Corbett were married. + +John Corbett got a job at once as teamster for a transfer company, and +Maggie followed her mother's example and put a sign of "Table Board" in +the window. They lived in this way for ten years, and in spite of the +dismal prognostications of friends, John Corbett worked industriously, +and did not show any desire to return to his old ways! When he said he +would do what Maggie told him it was not the rash promise of an eager +lover, for Mr. Corbett was never rash, and the subsequent years showed +that his purpose was honest to fulfil it to the letter. + +Maggie, being many years his junior, could not think of addressing him +by his first name, and she felt that it was not seemly to use the +prefix, so again she followed her mother's example, and addressed him +as her mother did Murphy, senior, as "Da." + +It was in the early eighties that Maggie and John Corbett decided to +come farther west. The cry of free land for the asking was coming to +many ears, and at Maggie's table it was daily discussed. They sold out +the contents of their house, and, purchasing oxen and a covered wagon, +they made the long overland journey. On the bank of Black Creek they +pitched their tent, and before a week had gone by Maggie Corbett was +giving meals to hungry men, cooking bannocks, frying pork, and making +coffee on her little sheet-iron camp-stove, no bigger than a biscuit- +box. + +The next year, when the railroad came to Brandon, and the wheat was +drawn in from as far south as Lloyd's Lake, the Black Creek Stopping- +House became a far-famed and popular establishment. + + +CHAPTER II. + +_THE HOUSE OF BREAD_. + +Across the level plain which lies between the valley of the Souris and +the valley of the Assiniboine there ran, at this time, three trails. +There was the deeply-rutted old Hudson Bay trail, over which went the +fabulously heavy loads of fur long ago--grass-grown now and broken with +badger holes; there was "the trail," hard and firm, in the full pride +of present patronage, defying the invasion of the boldest blade of +grass; and by the side of it, faint and shadowy, like a rainbow's +understudy, ran "the new trail," strong in the certainty of being the +trail in time. + +For miles across the plain the men who follow the trail watch the steep +outlying shoulder of the Brandon Hills for a landmark. When they leave +the Souris valley the hills are blue with distance and seem to promise +wooded slopes, and maybe leaping streams, but a half-day's journey +dispels the illusion, for when the traveller comes near enough to see +the elevation as it is, it is only a rugged bluff, bald and bare, and +blotched with clumps of mangy grass, with a fringe of stunted poplar at +the base. + +After rounding the shoulder of the hill, the thick line of poplars and +elms which fringe the banks of Black Creek comes into view, and many a +man and horse have suddenly brightened at the sight, for in the shelter +of the trees there stands the Black Creek Stopping-House, which is the +half-way house on the way to Brandon. Hungry men have smelled the bacon +frying when more than a mile away, and it is only the men who follow +the trail who know what a heartsome smell that is. The horses, too, +tired with the long day, point their ears ahead and step livelier when +they see the whitewashed walls gleaming through the trees. + +The Black Creek Stopping-House gave not only food and shelter to the +men who teamed the wheat to market--it gave them good fellowship and +companionship. In the absence of newspapers it kept its guests abreast +with the times; events great and small were discussed there with +impartial deliberation, and often with surprising results. Actions and +events which seemed quite harmless, and even heroic, when discussed +along the trail, often changed their complexion entirely when Mrs. +Maggie Corbett let in the clear light of conscience on them, for even +on the very edge of civilization there are still to be found finger- +posts on the way to right living. + +Mrs. Maggie Corbett was a finger-post, and more, for a finger-post +merely points the way with its wooden finger, and then, figuratively, +retires from the scene to let you think it over; but Maggie Corbett +continued to take an interest in the case until it was decided to her +entire satisfaction. + +Black Creek, on whose wooded bank the Stopping-House stands, is a deep +black stream which makes its way leisurely across the prairie between +steep banks. Here and there throughout its length are little shallow +stretches which show a golden braid down the centre like any peaceful +meadow brook where children may with safety float their little boats, +but Black Creek, with its precipitous holes, is no safe companion for +any living creature that has not webbed toes or a guardian angel. + +The banks, which are of a spongy black loam, grow a heavy crop of +coarse meadow grass, interspersed in the late summer with the umbrella- +like white clusters of water hemlock. + + * * * * * + +About a mile from the Stopping-House there stood a strange log +structure, the present abode of Reginald and Randolph Brydon, late of +H.M. Navy, but now farmers and homesteaders. The house was built in +that form of architecture known as a "Red River frame," and the corners +were finished in the fashion called "saddle and notch." + +Whatever can be done to a house to spoil its appearance had been done +to this one. There was a "join" in each side, which was intended, and a +bulge which was accidental, and when the sailor brothers were unable to +make a log lie comfortably beside its neighbor by using the axe, they +resorted to long iron spikes, and when these split the logs, as was +usually the case, they overcame the difficulty by using ropes. + +What had brought the Brydon brothers to Manitoba was a matter of +conjecture in the Black Creek neighborhood. Some said they probably +were not wanted at home; others, with deeper meaning, said they +probably _were_ wanted at home; and, indeed, their bushy eyebrows, +their fierce black eyes, the knives which they carried in their belts, +and their general manner of living, gave some ground to this +insinuation. + +The Brydon brothers did not work with that vigor and zeal which brings +success to the farmer. They began late and quit early, with numerous +rests in between. They showed a delightfully child-like trust in Nature +and her methods, for in the springtime, instead of planting their +potatoes in the ground the way they saw other people doing it, they +sprinkled them around the "fireguard," believing that the birds of the +air strewed leaves over them, or the rain washed them in, or in some +mysterious way they made a bed for themselves in the soil. + +They bought a cow from one of the neighbors, but before the summer was +over brought her back indignantly, declaring that she would give no +milk. Randolph declared that he knew she had it, for she had plenty the +last time he milked her, and that was several days ago--she should have +more now. It came out in the evidence that they only took from the cow +the amount of milk that they needed, reasoning that she had a better +way of keeping it than they had. The cow's former owner exonerated her +from all blame in the matter, saying that "Rosie" was all right as a +cow; but, of course, she was "no bloomin' refrigerator!" + +There was only one day in the week when the Brydon brothers could work +with any degree of enjoyment, and that was on Sunday, when there was +the added zest of wickedness. To drive the oxen up and down the field +in full view of an astonished and horrified neighborhood seemed to take +away in large measure from the "beastliness of labor," and then, too, +the Sabbath calm of the Black Creek valley seemed to stimulate their +imagination as they discoursed loudly and elaborately on the present +and future state of the oxen, consigning them without hope of release +to the remotest and hottest corner of Gehenna. But the complacent old +oxen, graduates in the school of hard knocks and mosquitoes, winked +solemnly, switched their tails and drowsed along unmoved. + +The sailors had been doing various odd jobs around the house on Sundays +ever since they came, but had not worked openly until one particular +Sunday in May. All day they hoped that someone would come and stop them +from working, or at least beg of them to desist, but the hot afternoon +wore away, and there was no movement around any of the houses on the +plain. The guardian of the morals of the neighborhood, Mrs. Maggie +Corbett, had taken notice of them all right, but she was a wise woman +and did not use militant methods until she had tried all others; and +she believed that she had other means of teaching the sailor twins the +advantages of Sabbath observance. + +About five o'clock the twins grew so uproariously hungry they were +compelled to quit their labors, but when they reached their house they +were horrified to find that a wandering dog, who also had no respect +for the Sabbath, had depleted their "grub-box," overlooking nothing but +the tea and sugar, which he had upset and spilled when he found he did +not care to eat them. + +Then it was the oxen's turn to laugh, for the twins' wrath was all +turned upon each other. Everything that they had said about the oxen, +it seemed, was equally true of each other--each of them had confidently +expected the other one to lock the door. + +There was nothing to do but to go across to the Black Creek Stopping- +House for supplies. Mrs. Corbett baked bread for them each week. + +Reginald, with a gun on his shoulder, and rolling more than ever in his +walk, strolled into the kitchen of the Stopping-House and made known +his errand. He also asked for the loan of a neck-yoke, having broken +his in a heated argument with the "starboard" ox. + +Mrs. Corbett, with a black dress and white apron on, sat, with folded +hands, in the rocking-chair. "Da" Corbett, with his "other clothes" on +and his glasses far down on his nose, sat in another rocking-chair +reading the life of General Booth. Peter Rockett, the chore boy, in a +clean pair of overalls, and with hair-oil on his hair, sat on the edge +of the wood-box twanging a Jew's-harp, and the tune that he played bore +a slight resemblance to "Pull for the Shore." + +Randolph felt the Sunday atmosphere, but, nevertheless, made known his +errand. + +"The bread is yours," said Mrs. Corbett, sternly; "you may have it, but +I can't bake any more for you!" + +"W'y not?" asked Reginald, feeling all at once hungrier than ever. + +"Of course I am not saying you can help it," Mrs. Corbett went on, +ignoring his question. "I suppose, maybe, you do the best you can. I +believe everybody does, if we only knew it, and you haven't had a very +good chance either, piratin' among the black heathen in the islands of +the sea; but the Bible speaks plain, and old Captain Coombs often told +us not to be unequally yoked with unbelievers, and I can't encourage +Sunday-breakin' by cookin' for them that do it!" + +"We weren't breakin', really we were only back-settin'," interposed +Reginald, quickly. + +"I don't wish to encourage Sabbath-breakin'," repeated Mrs. Corbett, +raising her voice a little to prevent interruptions, "by bakin' for +people who do it, or neighborin' with people who do it. Of course there +are some who say that the amount of work that you and your brother do +any day would not break the Sabbath." Here she looked hard at her man, +John Corbett, who stirred uneasily. "But there is no mistakin' your +meanin', and besides," Mrs. Corbett went on, "we have others besides +ourselves to think of--there's the child," indicating the lanky Peter +Rockett. + +The "child" thus alluded to closed one eye--the one farthest from Mrs. +Corbett--for a fraction of a second, and kept on softly teasing the +Jew's-harp. + +"Now you need not glare at me so fierce, you twin." Mrs. Corbett's +voice was still full of Sunday calm. "I do not know which one of you +you are, but anyway what I say applies to you both. Now take that look +off your face and stay and eat. I'll send something home to your other +one, too." + +Having delivered her ultimatum on the subject of Sunday work, Mrs. +Corbett became quite genial. She heaped Reginald's plate with cold +chicken and creamed potatoes, and, mellowed by them and the comfort of +her well-appointed table, he was prepared to renounce the devil and all +his works if Mrs. Corbett gave the order. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_THE SAILORS' REST_. + +When Reginald reached home he found his brother in a state of mind +bordering on frenzy, but when he shoved the basket which Mrs. Corbett +had filled for him toward Randolph with the unnecessary injunction to +"stow it in his hold," the lion's mouth was effectively closed. When he +had finished the last crumb Reginald told him Mrs. Corbett's decree +regarding Sunday work, and found that Randolph was prepared to abstain +from all forms of labor on all days in the week if she wished it. + +That night, after the twins had washed the accumulated stock of dishes, +and put patches on their overalls with pieces of canvas and a sail +needle, and performed the many little odd jobs which by all accepted +rules of ethics belong to Sunday evening's busy work, they sat beside +the fire and indulged in great depression of spirits! + +"She can't live forever," Reginald broke out at last with apparent +irrelevance. But there was no irrelevance--his remark was perfectly in +order. + +He was referring to a dear aunt in Bournemouth. This lady, who was +possessed of "funds," had once told her loving nephews--the twins--that +if they would go away and stay away she might--do something for them-- +by and by. She had urged them so strongly to go to Canada that they +could not, under the circumstances, do otherwise. Aunt Patience Brydon +shared the delusion that is so blissfully prevalent among parents and +guardians of wayward youth in England, that to send them to Canada will +work a complete reformation, believing that Canada is a good, kind +wilderness where iced tea is the strongest drink known, and where no +more exciting game than draughts is ever played. + +Aunt Patience, though a frail-looking little white-haired lady, had, it +seemed, a wonderful tenacity of life. + +"She'll slip her cable some day," Reginald declared soothingly. "She +can't hold out much longer--you know the last letter said she was +failin' fast." + +"Failin' fast!" Randolph broke in impatiently. "It's us that's failin' +fast! And maybe when we've waited and waited, and stayed away for 'er, +she'll go and leave it all to some Old Cats' 'Ome or Old Hens' Roost, +or some other beastly charity. I don't trust 'er--'any woman that 'olds +on to life the way she does--'er with one foot in the grave, and 'er +will all made and everything ready." + +"Well, she can't last always," Reginald declared, holding firmly to +this one bit of comfort. + +The next news they got from Bournemouth was positively alarming! She +was getting better. Then the twins lost hope entirely and decided to +treat Aunt Patience as one already dead--figuratively speaking, to turn +her picture to the wall. + +"Let her live as long as she likes," Reginald declared, "if she's so +jolly keen on it!" + +When they decided to trust no more to the deceitfulness of woman they +turned to another quarter for help, for they were, at this time, +"uncommonly low in funds." + +It was Randolph who got the idea, one day when he was sitting on the +plow handle lighting his pipe. + +"Wot's the matter with us gettin' out Fred for our farm pupil? He's got +some money--they say he married a rich man's daughter--and we've got +the experience!" + +"He's only a 'alf-brother!" said Reginald, at last, reflectively. + +"That don't matter one bit to me," declared Randolph, generously, "I'll +treat him just the same as I would you!" + +Reginald shrugged his shoulders eloquently. + +"What about his missus?" asked Reginald, after a silence. + +"She can come," Randolph said, magnanimously. "We'll build a piece to +the house." + +The more they talked about it the more enthusiastic they became. Under +the glow of this new project they felt they could hurl contempt on Aunt +Patience and her unnatural hold on life. + +"I don't know but what I would rather take 'elp from the livin' than +the dead, anyway," Reginald said, virtuously, that night before they +went to bed. + +"They're more h'apt to ask it back, just the same," objected Randolph. + +"I was just goin' to say," Reginald began again, "that I'd just as soon +take 'elp from the livin' as the dead, especially when there ain't no +dead!" + +They began at once to write letters to their long-neglected brother +Fred, enthusiastically setting forth the charms of this new country. +They dwelt on the freedom of the life, the abundance of game, and the +view! They made a great deal of the view, and certainly there was +nothing to obstruct it, for the prairie lay a dead level for ten miles +north of them, only dotted here and there with little weather-bleached +warts of houses like their own, where other optimists were trying to +make a dint in the monotony. + +The letters which went east every mail were splendid productions in +their way, written with ease and eloquence, and utterly untrammeled by +any regard for facts. + +Their brother responded just as they hoped he would, and the twins were +greatly delighted with the success of their plan. + +Events of which the twins knew nothing favored their project and made +Fred and his wife glad to leave Toronto. Evelyn Grant had bitterly +estranged her father by marrying against his wishes. So the proposal +from Randolph and Reginald that they come West and take the homestead +near them seemed to offer an escape from much that was unpleasant. +Besides, it was just at the time when so many people were hearing the +call of the West. + +At the suggestion of his brothers, Fred sent in advance the money to +build a house on his homestead. But the twins, not wishing to make any +mistake, or to have any misunderstanding with Fred, built it right +beside their own. Fred sent enough money to have a frame building put +up but the twins decided that logs were more romantic and cheaper. It +was a remarkable structure when they were through with it, stuck +against their own house, as if by accident, and resembling in its +irregularity the growth of a freak potato. Cables were freely used; +binder twine served as hinges on the doors and also as latches. + +They gave as a reason for sticking the new part against their own +irregularly that they intended to use the alcoves for verandahs! + +They agreed to put in Fred's crop for him--for a consideration; to put +up hay; to buy oxen. Indeed, so many kindly offices did they agree to +perform for him that Fred had advanced them, in all, nearly two +thousand dollars. + +The preparations were watched with great interest by the neighbors, and +the probable outcome of it all was often a topic of conversation at the +Black Creek Stopping-House. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +_FARM PUPILS_. + +June in Manitoba, when the tender green of grass and leaf is bathed in +the sparkling sunshine; when the first wild roses are spilling their +perfume on the air, and the first orange lilies are lifting their glad +faces to the sun; when the prairie chicken, intent on family cares, +runs cautiously beside the road, and the hermit thrushes from the +thickets drive their sweet notes into the quiet evening. It is a time +to remember lovingly and with sweet gratitude; a time when the love of +the open prairie overtakes us, and binds us fast in golden fetters. +There is no hint of the cruel winter that is waiting just around the +corner, or of the dull autumn drizzle closer still; there is nothing +but peace and warmth and beauty. + +As the old "Cheyenne," the only sidewheeler on the Assiniboine, +churning the muddy water into creamy foam, made its way to the green +shore at Curry's Landing, Fred and Evelyn Brydon, standing on the +narrow deck, felt the grip of the place and the season. Even the +captain's picturesque language, as he directed the activities of the +"rousters" who pulled the boat ashore, seemed less like profanity and +more like figure of speech. + +The twins had made several unfruitful journeys to the Landing for their +brother and his wife, for they began to go two days before the +"Cheyenne" was expected, and had been going twice a day since, all of +which had been carefully entered in their account book! + +Their appearance as they stood on the shore, sneering at the captain's +directions to his men from the superior height of their nautical +experience, was warlike in the extreme, although they were clothed in +the peaceful overalls and smock of the farmer and also had submitted to +a haircut at the earnest instigation of Mrs. Corbett, who threatened to +cut off all bread-making unless her wishes were complied with! + +Evelyn, who had never seen her brothers-in-law, looked upon them now in +wonder, and she could see their appearance was somewhat of a surprise +to Fred, who had not seen them for many years, and who remembered them +only as the heroes of his childhood days. + +They greeted Fred hilariously, but to his wife they spoke timidly, for, +brave as they were in facing Spanish pirates, they were timid to the +point of flight in the presence of women. + +As they drove home in the high-boxed wagon, the twins endeavored to +keep up the breezy enthusiasm that had characterized their letters. +They raved about the freedom of the West; they went into fresh raptures +over the view, and almost deranged their respiratory organs in their +praises of the air. They breathed in deep breaths of the ambient +atmosphere, chewed it up with loud smacks of enjoyment, and then blew +it out, snorting like whales. Evelyn, who was not without a sense of +humor, would have enjoyed it all, and laughed _at_ them, even if she +could not laugh with them, if she could have forgotten that they were +her husband's brothers, but it is very hard to see the humorous in the +grotesque behavior of those to whom we are "bound by the ties of duty," +if not affection. + +A good supper at the Black Creek Stopping-House and the hearty +hospitality of Mrs. Corbett restored Evelyn's good spirits. She +noticed, too, that the twins tamed down perceptibly in Mrs. Corbett's +presence. + +Mrs. Corbett insisted on Fred and his wife spending the night at the +Stopping-House. + +"Don't go to your own house until morning," she said. "Things look a +lot different when the sun is shining, and out here, you see, Mrs. +Fred, we have to do without and forget so many things that we bank a +lot on the sun. You people who live in cities, you've got gas and big +lamps, and I guess it doesn't bother you much whether the sun rises or +doesn't rise, or what he does, you're independent; but with us it is +different. The sun is the best thing we've got, and we go by him +considerable. Providence knows how it is with us, and lets us have lots +of the sun, winter and summer." + +Evelyn gladly consented to stay. + +Mrs. Corbett, observing Evelyn's soft white hands, decided that she was +not accustomed to work, and the wonder of how it would all turn out was +heavy upon her kind Irish heart as she said goodbye to her next +morning. + +A big basket of bread and other provisions was put into the wagon at +the last minute. "Maybe your stove won't be drawin' just right at the +first," said Maggie Corbett, apologetically. As she watched Evelyn's +hat of red roses fading in the distance she said softly to herself: +"Sure I do hope it's true that He tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, +tho' there's some that says that ain't in the Bible at all. But it +sounds nice and kind anyway, and yon poor lamb needs all the help He +can give her. Him and me, we'll have to do the best we can for her!" + +Mrs. Corbett went over to see her new neighbor two or three days after. +In response to her knock on the rough lumber door, a thin little voice +called to her to enter, which she did. + +On the bare floor stood an open trunk from which a fur-trimmed pale +pink opera cloak hung carelessly. Beside the trunk in an attitude of +homesickness huddled the young woman, hair dishevelled, eyes red. Her +dress of green silk, embroidered stockings and beaded slippers looked +out of place and at variance with her primitive surroundings. + +When Mrs. Corbett entered the room she sprang up hastily and apologized +for the untidiness of her house. She chattered gaily to hide the +trouble in her face, and Mrs. Corbett wisely refrained from any +apparent notice of her tears, and helped her to unpack her trunks and +set the house to rights. + +Mrs. Corbett showed her how to make a combined washstand and clothes +press out of two soap boxes, how to make a wardrobe out of the head of +the bed, and set the twin sailors at the construction of a cookhouse +where the stove could be put. + +When Mrs. Corbett left that afternoon it was a brighter and more +liveable dwelling. Coming home along the bank of Black Creek, she was +troubled in mind and heart for her new neighbor. + +"This is June," she said to herself, "and wild roses are crowdin' up to +her door, and the meadow larks are sittin' round all over blinkin' at +the sun, and she has her man with her, and she ain't tired with the +work, and her hands ain't cracked and sore, and she hasn't been there +long enough to dislike the twins the way she will when she knows them +better, and there's no mosquitoes, and she hasn't been left to stay +alone, and still she cries! God help us! What will she do in the long +drizzle in the fall, when the wheat's spoilin' in the shock maybe, and +the house is dark, and her man's away--what _will_ she do?" + +Mrs. Brydon spent many happy hours that summer at the Stopping-House, +and soon Mrs. Corbett knew all the events of her past life; the +sympathetic understanding of the Irish woman made it easy for her to +tell many things. Her mother had died when she was ten years old, and +since then she had been her father's constant companion until she met +Fred Brydon. + +She could not understand, and so bitterly resented, her father's +dislike of Fred, not knowing that his fond old heart was torn with +jealousy. She and her father were too much alike to ever arrive at an +understanding, for both were proud and quick-tempered and imperious, +and so each day the breach grew wider. Just a word, a caress, an +assurance from her that she loved him still, that the new love had not +driven out the old, would have set his heart at rest, but with the +cruel thoughtlessness of youth she could see only one side of the +affair, and that her own. + +At last she ran away and was married to the young man, whom her father +had never allowed her to bring to see him, and the proud old man was +left alone in his dreary mansion, brooding over what he called the +heartlessness of his only child. + +Mrs. Corbett, with her quick understanding, was sorry for both of them, +and at every opportunity endeavored to turn Evelyn's thoughts towards +home. Once, at her earnest appeal, after she had got the young woman +telling her about how kind her father had been to her when her mother +died, Evelyn consented to write him a letter, but when it was finished, +with a flash of her old imperious pride, she tore it across and flung +the pieces on the floor, then hastily gathered them up and put them in +the stove. + +One half sheet of the letter did not share the fate of the remainder, +for Mrs. Corbett intercepted it and hastily hid it in her apron pocket. +She might need it, she thought. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +_THE PRAIRIE CLUB-HOUSE._ + +The tender green of the early summer deepened and ripened into the +golden tinge of autumn as over the Black Creek Valley the mantle of +harvest was spread. + +Only a small portion of the valley was under cultivation, for the +oldest settler had been in only for three years; but it seemed as if +every grain sowed had fallen upon good soil and gave promise of the +hundredfold. + +Across John Corbett's ten acres of wheat and forty acres of oats the +wind ran waves of shadow all day long, and the pride of the land-owner +thrilled Maggie Corbett's heart over and over again. + +Not that the lady of the Stopping-House took the time to stand around +and enjoy the sensation, for the busy time was coming on and many +travellers were moving about and must be fed. But while she scraped the +new potatoes with lightning speed, or shelled the green peas, all of +her own garden, her thoughts were full of that peace and reverent +gratitude that comes to those who plant the seed and see it grow. + +It was a glittering day in early August; a light shower the night +before had washed the valley clean of dust, and now the hot harvest sun +poured down his ripening rays over the pulsating earth. To the south +the Brandon Hills shimmered in a pale gray mirage. Over the trees which +sheltered the Stopping-House a flock of black crows circled in the blue +air, croaking and complaining that the harvest was going to be late. On +the wire-fence that circled the haystack sat a row of red-winged +blackbirds like a string of jet beads, patiently waiting for the oats +to ripen and indulging in low-spoken but pleasant gossip about all the +other birds in the valley. + +Within doors Mrs Corbett served dinner to a long line of stoppers. Many +of the "boys" she had not seen since the winter before, and while she +worked she discussed neighborhood matters with them, the pleasing +sizzle of eggs frying on a hot pan making a running accompaniment to +her words. + +The guests at Mrs. Corbett's table were a typical pioneer group-- +homesteaders, speculators, machine men journeying through the country +to sell machinery to harvest the grain not yet grown; the farmer has +ever been well endowed with hope, and the machine business flourishes. + +Mrs. Corbett could talk and work at the same time, her sudden +disappearances from the room as she replenished the table merely +serving as punctuation marks, and not interfering with the thread of +the story at all. + +When she was compelled by the exigencies of the case to be present in +the kitchen, and therefore absent in the dining-room, she merely +elevated her voice to overcome distance, and dropped no stitch in the +conversation. + +"New neighbor, is it, you are sayin', Tom? 'Deed and I have, and her +the purtiest little trick you ever saw--diamond rings on her, and silk +skirts, and plumes on her hat, and hair as yalla as gold." + +"When she comes over here I can't be doin' my work for lookin' at her. +She was brought up with slathers of money." This came back from the +"cheek of the dure", where Mrs. Corbett was emptying the tea leaves from +the teapot. "But the old man, beyant, ain't been pleased with her since +she married this Fred chap--he wouldn't ever look at Fred, nor let him +come to the house, and so she ran away with him, and no one could blame +her either for that, and now her and the old man don't write at all, at +all--reach me the bread plate in front of you there, Jim--and there's +bad blood between them. I can see, though, her and the old man are fond +o' one another!" + +"Is her man anything like the twin pirates?" asked Sam Moggey from Oak +Creek; "because if he is I don't blame the old man for being mad about +it." Sam was helping himself to another quarter of vinegar pie as he +spoke. + +Mrs. Corbett could not reply for a minute, for she was putting a new +bandage on Jimmy MacCaulay's finger, and she had the needle and thread +in her mouth. + +"Not a bit like them, Sam," she said, as soon as she had the bandage in +place, and as she put in quick stitches; "no more like them than day is +like night--he's only a half-brother, and a lot younger. He's a +different sort altogether from them two murderin' villains that sits in +the house all day playin' cards. He's a good, smart fellow, and has +done a lot of breakin' and cleanin' up since he came. What he thinks of +the other two lads I don't know--she never says, but I'd like fine to +know." + +"Sure, you'll soon know then, Maggie," said "Da" Corbett, bringing in +another platter of bacon and eggs and refilling the men's plates. +"Don't worry." + +In the laugh that followed Maggie Corbett joined as heartily as any of +them. + +"Go 'long with you, Da!" she cried; "sure you're just as anxious as I +am to know. We all think a lot of Fred and Mrs. Fred," she went on, +bringing in two big dishes of potatoes; "and if you could see that +poor, precious lamb trying to cook pork and beans with a little wisp of +an apron on, all lace and ribbons, and big diamonds on her fingers, +you'd be sorry for her, and you'd say, 'What kind of an old tyrant is +the old man down beyant, and why don't he take her and Fred back?' It's +not wrastlin' round black pots she should be, and she's never been any +place all summer only over here, for they've only the oxen, and altho' +she never says anything, I'll bet you she'd like a bit of a drive, or +to get out to some kind of a-doin's, or the like of that." + +While Mrs. Corbett gaily rattled on there was one man at her table who +apparently took no notice of what she said. + +He was a different type of man from all the others. Dark complexioned, +with swarthy skin and compelling black eyes, he would be noticeable in +any company. He was dressed in the well-cut clothes of a city man, and +carried himself with a certain air of distinction. + +Happening to notice the expression on his face, Mrs. Corbett suddenly +changed the conversation, and during the remainder of the meal watched +him closely with a puzzled and distrustful look. + +When the men had gone that day and John Corbett came in to have his +afternoon rest on the lounge in the kitchen, he found Maggie in a self- +reproachful mood. + +"Da," she began, "the devil must have had a fine laugh to himself when +he saw the Lord puttin' a tongue in a woman's head. Did ye hear me +to-day, talking along about that purty young thing beyant, and Rance +Belmont takin' in every word of it? Sure and I never thought of him +bein' here until I noticed the look on that ugly mug of his, and mind +you, Da, there's people that call him good-lookin' with that heavy jowl +of his and the hair on him growin' the wrong way on his head, and them +black eyes of his the color of the dirt in the road. They do say he's +just got a bunch of money from the old country, and he's cuttin' a wide +swath with it. If I'd kept me mouth shut he'd have gone on to Brandon +and never knowed a word about there being a purty young thing near. But +I watched him hitchin' up, and didn't he drive right over there; and I +tell you, Da, he means no good." + +"Don't worry, Maggie," John Corbett said, soothingly. "He can't pick +her up and run off with her. Mrs. Fred's no fool." + +"He's a divil!" Maggie declared with conviction. "Mind you, Da, there +ain't many that can put the comaudher on me, but Rance Belmont done it +once." + +Mr. Corbett looked up with interest and waited for her to speak. + +"It was about the card-playin'. You know I've never allowed a card in +me house since I had a house, and never intended to, but the last day +Rance Belmont was here--that was away last spring, when you were away-- +he begins to play with one of the boys that was in for dinner. Right in +there on the sewin'-machine in plain sight of all of us I saw them, and +I wiped me hands and tied up me apron, and I walked in, and says I, +'I'll be obliged to you, Mr. Belmont, to put them by,' and I looked at +him, stiff as pork. 'Why, certainly, Mrs. Corbett,' says he, smilin' at +me as if I had said somethin' pleasant. I felt a little bit ashamed, +and went on to sort of explain about bein' brought up in the Army and +all that, and he talked so nice about the Army that you would have +thought it was old Major Morris come back again from the dead, and +pretty soon he had me talkin' away to him and likin' him; and says he, +'I was just going to show Jimmy here a funny trick that can be done +with cards, but,' says he, 'if Mrs. Corbett objects I wouldn't offend +her for the world!' Now here's the part that scares me, Da--me, Maggie +Murphy, that hates cards like I do the divil; says I to him, 'Oh, go +on, Mr. Belmont; I don't mind at all!' Now what do you think of that, +Da?" + +John Corbett sat thinking, but he was not thinking of what Maggie +thought he was thinking. He was wondering what trick it was that Rance +Belmont had showed Jimmy Peters! + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +_THE COUNTER-IRRITANT._ + +When Fred Brydon made the discovery that his two brothers spent a great +deal of their time in the pleasant though unprofitable occupation of +card-playing with two or three of the other impecunious young men of +the neighborhood, he remonstrated with them on this apparent waste of +time. When he later discovered that they were becoming so engrossed in +the game that they had but little time to plant, sow or reap, or do any +of the things incidental to farm life, he became very indignant indeed. + +The twins naturally resented any such interference from their farm +pupil. They told him that he was there to learn farming, and not to +give advice to his elders. + +Nearly everyone agrees that card playing is a pleasant and effective +way of killing time for people who wait for a long delayed train at a +lonely wayside station. This is exactly the position in which the twins +found themselves. So, while Aunt Patience, of Bournemouth, tarried and +procrastinated, her loving nephews across the sea, thinking of her +night and day, waited with as good grace as they could and played the +game! + +Unlike the twins, Fred Brydon liked hard work, and applied himself with +great energy to the work of the farm, determined to disprove his angry +father-in-law's words that he would never make a success of anything. + +The fact that the twins were playing for money gave Fred some uneasy +moments, and the uncomfortable suspicion that part of his money was +being used in this way kept growing upon him. + +He did not mention any of these things to Evelyn, for he knew it was +hard for her to keep up friendly relations with Reginald and Randolph, +and he did not want to say anything that would further predispose her +against them. + +However, Evelyn, with some of her father's shrewdness, was arriving at +a very correct estimate of the twins without any help from anyone. + +The twins had enjoyed life much better since the coming of their +brother and his wife. They quite enjoyed looking out of the fly-specked +window at their brother at work with the oxen in the fields. Then, too, +the many flattering remarks made by their friends in regard to their +sister-in-law's beauty were very grateful to their ears. + +One day, in harvest time, when something had gone wrong with their +binder, and Fred had sent to Brandon for a new knotter, the twins +refused to pay for it when it came, telling him that he could pay for +it himself. Fred paid for it and worked all afternoon without saying +anything, but that evening he came into their part of the house and +told them he wanted a detailed statement of how his money had been +spent. + +The twins were thoroughly hurt and indignant. Did he think they had +cheated him? And they asked each other over and over again, "Did +anybody ever hear of such ingratitude?" + +The next day Evelyn made a remark which quite upset them. She told them +that if Fred did all the work he should have more than half the crop. + +The twins did not like these occurrences. Instinctively they felt that +a storm was coming. They began to wonder what would be the best way to +avoid trouble. + +The prairie-dwellers have a way of fighting a prairie fire which is +very effective. When they see the blue veil of smoke lying close to the +horizon, or the dull red glare on the night sky, they immediately start +another fire to go out and meet the big fire! + +Some such thought as this was struggling in the twins' brains the day +that Rance Belmont came over from the Stopping-House, and in his +graceful way asked Mrs. Brydon to go driving with him, an invitation +which Fred urged her to accept. When the drive was over and Rance came +in to the twins' apartments, and on their invitation had a game with +them and lost, they were suddenly smitten with an idea. They began to +see how it might be possible to start another fire! + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +_LADIES' DAY AT THE STOPPING-HOUSE._ + +The glory of the summer paled and faded; the crimson and gold of the +harvest days had fled before the cold winds of autumn, and now the +trees along the bank of the creek stood leafless and bare, trembling +and swaying as if in dread of the long winter that would soon be upon +them. The harvest had been cut and gathered in, and now, when the +weather was fine, the industrious hum of the threshing-machine came on +the wind for many miles, and the column of blue smoke which proclaimed +the presence of a "mill" shot up in all directions. + +At the Black Creek Stopping-House the real business of the year had +begun, for every day heavily-loaded wheat wagons wound slowly over the +long trail on their way to Brandon, and the Stopping-House became the +foregathering place of all the farmers in the settlement. At noon the +stable yard presented a lively appearance as the "boys" unhitched their +steaming teams and led them to the long, straggling straw-roofed +stables. The hay that John Corbett had cut on the meadows of Black +Creek and stacked beside the stables was carried in miniature stacks +which completely hid the man who carried them into the mangers, while +the creaking windlass of the well proclaimed that the water-troughs +were being filled. The cattle who foraged through the straw stack in +the field near by always made the mistake of thinking that they were +included in the invitation, much to the disgust of Peter Rockett, the +chore boy, who drove them back with appropriate remarks. + +Inside of the Stopping-House the long dining-room, called "the room," +was a scene of great activity. The long oilcloth-covered table down the +centre of the "room" was full of smoking dishes of potatoes and ham and +corned beef, and piled high with bread and buns; tin teapots were at +each end of the table and were passed from hand to hand. There were +white bowls filled with stewed prunes and apricots and pitchers of +"Goldendrop" syrup at intervals down the table. + +Table etiquette was fairly well observed--the person who took the last +of the potatoes was in duty bound to take the dish out to the kitchen +and replenish it from the black pot which stood on its three legs on +the back of the kitchen stove. The same rule applied to the tea and the +bread. Also when one had finished his meal the correct plan of +procedure was to gather up his plate, knife and fork and cup and saucer +and carry them out to the kitchen, where Mrs. Corbett or Peter Rockett +hastily washed them to be ready for the next one. + +When entering the Black Creek dining-room with the purpose of having a +meal there were certain small conventions to be observed. If a place +was already set, the newcomer could with impunity sit down and proceed +with the order of business; if there was no place set, but room for a +place to be set, the hungry one came out to the kitchen and selected +what implements he needed in the way of plate and knife and proceeded +to the vacancy; if there was not a vacant place at the table, the +newcomer retired to the window and read the _Northern Messenger_ or the +_War Cry_, which were present in large numbers on the sewing-machine. +But before leaving the table conversation zone, it was considered +perfectly legitimate to call out in a loud voice: "Some eat fast, some +eat long, and some eat both ways," or some such bright and felicitous +remark. It was a bitter cold day in November--one of those dark, cold +days with a searching wind, just before the snow comes. In Mrs. +Corbett's kitchen there was an unusual bustle and great excitement, for +the women from the Tiger Hills were there--three of them on their way +to Brandon. Mrs. Corbett said it always made her nervous to cook for +women. You can't fool them on a bad pudding by putting on a good sauce, +the way you can a man. But Mrs. Corbett admitted it was good to see +them anyway. + +There was Mrs. Berry and her sister, Miss Thornley, and Mrs. Smith. +They had ridden fifteen miles on a load of wheat, and had yet another +fifteen to go to reach their destination. In spite of a long, cold and +very slow ride, the three ladies were in splendid condition, and as +soon as they were thawed out enough to talk, and long before their +teeth stopped chattering, they began to ask about Mrs. Corbett's +neighbor, young Mrs. Brydon, in such a way, that, as Mrs. Corbett +afterwards explained to Da Corbett, "you could tell they had heard +something." + +"Our lads saw her over at the Orangemen's ball in Millford, and they +said Rance Belmont was with her more than her own man," said Mrs. +Berry, as she melted the frost from her eyebrows by holding her face +over the stove. + +"Oh, well," Mrs. Corbett said, "I guess all the young fellows were +makin' a lot of her, but sure there's no harm in that." + +Miss Thornley was too busy examining her feet for possible frostbites +to give in her contribution just then, but after she had put her +coldest foot in a wash-basin of water she said, "I don't see how any +woman can go the length of her toe with Rance Belmont, but young Mrs. +Brydon went to Brandon with him last week, for my sister's husband +heard it from somebody that had seen them. I don't know how she can do +it." + +Mrs. Corbett was mashing potatoes with a gem-jar, and without stopping +her work she said: "Oh, well, Miss Thornley, it's easy for you and me +to say we would not go out with Rance Belmont, but maybe that's mostly +because we have never had the chance. He's got a pretty nice way with +him, Rance has, and I guess if he came along now with his sorrel pacer +and says to you, 'Come on, Miss Thornley,' you would get on that boot +and stocking in two jiffies and be off with him like any young girl!" + +Miss Thornley mumbled a denial, and an angry light shone in her pale +blue eyes. + +Mrs. Smith was also full of the subject, and while she twisted her hair +into a small "nub" about the size, shape and color of a peanut, she +expressed her views. + +"It ain't decent for her to be goin' round with Rance Belmont the way +she does, and they say at the dance at Millford she never missed a +dance. Since Rance has got his money from England he hasn't done a +thing but play cards with them twins and take her round. I don't see +how her man can put up with it, but he's an awful easy-goin' chap--just +the kind that wouldn't notice anything wrong until he'd come home some +night and find her gone. I haven't one bit of respect for her." + +"Oh, now, Mrs. Smith, you're too hard on her. She's young and pretty +and likes a good time." Mrs. Corbett was giving her steel knives a +quick rub with ashes out of deference to the lady stoppers. "It's easy +enough for folks like us," waving her knife to include all present, "to +be very respectable and never get ourselves talked about, for nobody's +askin' us to go to dances or fly around with them, but with her it's +different. Don't be hard on her! She ain't goin' to do anything she +shouldn't." + +But the ladies were loath to adopt Mrs. Corbett's point of view. All +their lives nothing had happened, and here was a deliciously exciting +possible scandal, and they clung to it. + +"They say the old man Grant is nearly a millionaire, and he's getting +lonely for her, and is pretty near ready to forgive her and Fred and +take them back. Wouldn't it be awful if the old man should come up here +and find she'd gone with Rance Belmont?" + +Mrs. Berry looked anxiously around the kitchen as if searching for the +lost one. + +"Oh, don't worry," declared Mrs. Corbett; "she ain't a quitter. She'll +stay with her own man; they're happy as ever I saw two people." + +"If she did go," Miss Thornley said, sentimentally, "if she did go, do +you suppose she'd leave a note pinned on the pin-cushion? I think they +mostly do!" + +When the ladies had gone that afternoon, and while Mrs. Corbett washed +the white ironstone dishes, she was not nearly so composed and +confident in mind as she pretended to be. + +"Don't it beat the band how much they find out? I often wonder how +things get to be known. I do wish she wouldn't give them the chance to +talk, but she's not the one that will take tellin'--too much like her +father for that--and still I kind o' like her for her spunky ways. +Rance is a divil, but she don't know that. It is pretty hard to tell +what ought to be done. This is surely work for the Almighty, and not +for sinful human beings!" + +That night Mrs. Corbett took her pen in hand. Mrs. Corbett was more at +home with the potato-masher or the rolling-pin, but when duty called +her she followed, even though it involved the using of unfamiliar +tools. + +She wrote a lengthy letter to Mr. Robert Grant, care of The Imperial +Lumber Company, Toronto, Ontario: + +"Dear and respected sir," Mrs. Corbett wrote, "I take my pen in hand to +write you a few things that maybe you don't know but ought to know, and +to tell you your daughter is well, but homesick sometimes hoping that +you are enjoying the same blessings as this leaves us at present. Your +daughter is my neighbor and a blessed girl she is, and it is because I +love her so well that I am trying to write to you now, not being handy +at it, as you see; also my pen spits. As near as I can make out you and +her's cut off the same cloth; both of you are touchy and quick, and, if +things don't suit you, up and coming. But she's got a good heart in her +as ever I see. One day she told me a lot about how good you were to her +when her mother died, and about the prayer her mother used to tell her +to say: 'Help papa and mamma and Evelyn to be chums.' When she came to +that she broke right down and cried, and says she to me, 'I haven't +either of them now!' If you'd a-seen her that day you'd have forgot +everything only that she was your girl. Then she sat down and wrote you +a long letter, but when she got done didn't she tear it up, because she +said you told her you wouldn't read her letters. I saved a bit of the +letter for you to see, and here it is. We don't any of us see what made +you so mad at the man she got--he's a good fellow, and puts up with all +her high temper. She's terrible like yourself, excuse me for saying so +and meaning no harm. If she'd married some young scamp that was soaked +in whiskey and cigarettes you'd a-had something to kick about. I don't +see what you find in him to fault. Maybe you'll be for telling me to +mind my own business, but I am not used to doing that, for I like to +take a hand any place I see I can do any good, and if I was leaving my +girl fretting and lonely all on account of my dirty temper, both in me +and in her, though for that she shouldn't be blamed, I'd be glad for +someone to tell me. If you should want to send her a Christmas present, +and she says you never forgot her yet, come yourself. It's you she's +fretting for. You can guess it's lonely for her here when I tell you +she and me's the only women in this neighborhood, and I keep a +stopping-house, and am too busy feeding hungry men to be company for +anyone. + +"Hoping these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessings, + +"Yours respectively, + +"MAGGIE CORBETT." + +The writing of the letter took Mrs. Corbett the greater part of the +afternoon, but when it was done she felt a great weight had been lifted +from her heart. She set about her preparations for the evening meal +with more than usual speed. + +Going to the door to call Peter Rockett, she was surprised to see Rance +Belmont, with his splendid sorrel pacer, drive into the yard. He came +into the house a few minutes afterwards and seemed to be making +preparations to stay for supper. + +A sudden resolve was formed in Mrs. Corbett's mind as she watched him +hanging up his coat and making a careful toilet at the square looking- +glass which hung over the oilcloth-covered soap box on which stood the +wash-basin and soap saucer. She called to him to come into the pantry, +and while she hurriedly peeled the potatoes she plunged at once into +the subject. + +"Rance," she began, "you go to see Mrs. Brydon far too often, and +people are talking about it." + +Rance shrugged his shoulders. + +"Now, don't tell me you don't care, or that it's none of my business, +though that may be true." + +"I would never be so lacking in politeness, however true it might be!" +he answered, rolling a cigarette. + +Mrs. Corbett looked at him a minute, then she broke out, "Oh, but you +are the smooth-tongued gent!--you'd coax the birds off the bushes; but +I want to tell you that you are not doing right hanging around Mrs. +Brydon the way you do." + +"Does she object?" he asked, in the same even tone, as he slowly struck +a match on the sole of his boot. + +"She's an innocent little lamb," Mrs. Corbett cried, "and she's lonely +and homesick, and you've taken advantage of it. That poor lamb can't +stand the prairie like us old pelters that's weatherbeaten and gray and +toughened--she ain't made for it--she was intended for diamond rings +and drawing-rooms, and silks and satins." + +Rance Belmont looked at her, still smiling his inexplicable smile. + +"I can supply them better than she is getting them now," he said. + +Mrs. Corbett gave an exclamation of surprise. + +"But she's a married woman," she cried, "and a good woman, and what are +you, Rance? Sure you're no mate for any honest woman, you blackhearted, +smooth-tongued divil!" Mrs. Corbett's Irish temper was mounting higher +and higher, and two red spots burned in her cheeks. "You know as well +as I do that there's no happiness for any woman that goes wrong. That +woman must stand by her man, and he's a good fellow, Fred is; such a +fine, clean, honest lad, he never suspects anyone of being a crook or +meanin' harm. Why can't you go off and leave them alone, Rance? They +were doin' fine before you came along. Do one good turn, Rance, and +take yourself off." + +"You ask too much, Mrs. Corbett. I find Mrs. Brydon very pleasant +company, and Mr. Fred does not object to my presence." + +"But he would if he knew how the people talk about it." + +"That is very wrong of them, and entirely unavoidable," Rance answered, +calmly, "But the opinion of the neighbors has never bothered me yet," +he continued; "why should it in this instance?" + +Mrs. Corbett's eyes flashed ominously. + +"Do you know what I'd do if it was my girl you were after?" she asked, +pausing in her work and fixing her eyes on him. + +"Something very unpleasant, I should say, by the tone of your voice-- +and, by the way, you are pointing your potato knife at me--" + +Mrs. Corbett with an effort controlled her temper. + +"I believe, Mrs. Corbett, you would do me bodily injury. What a +horrible thought, and you a former officer in the Salvation Army!" +Rance was smiling again and enjoying the situation. "What a thrilling +headline it would make for the Brandon _Sun_: 'The Black Creek +Stopping-House scene of a brutal murder. Innocent young man struck down +in his youth and beauty.' You make me shudder, Mrs. Corbett, but you +look superb when you rage like that; really, you women interest me a +great deal. I am so fond of all of you!" + +"You're a divil, Rance!" Mrs. Corbett repeated again. "But you ain't +goin' to do that blessed girl any harm--she's goin' to be saved from +you some way." + +"Who'll do it, I wonder?" Rance seemed to triumph over her. + +"There is One," said Maggie Corbett, solemnly, "who comes to help when +all other help fails." + +"Who's that?" he asked, yawning. + +Maggie Corbett held up her right hand. + +"It is God!" she said slowly. Rance laughed indulgently. "A myth--a +name--a superstition," he sneered; "there is no God any more." + +"There is a God," she said, slowly and reverently, for she was Maggie +Murphy now, back to the Army days when God walked with her day by day, +"and He can hear a mother's prayer, and though I was never a mother +after the flesh, I am a mother now to that poor girl in the place of +the one that's gone, and I'm askin' Him to save her, and I've got me +answer. He will do it." + +There was a gleam in her eyes and a white glow in her face that made +Rance Belmont for one brief moment tremble, but he lighted another +cigarette and with a bow of exaggerated politeness left the room. + +The days that followed were anxious ones for Mrs. Corbett. Many +stoppers sat at her table as the Christmas season drew near, and many +times she heard allusions to her young neighbor which filled her with +apprehension. She had carefully counted the days that it would take her +letter to reach its destination, and although there had been time for a +reply, none came. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +_SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT_. + +It was a wind-swept, chilly morning in late November, and Evelyn +Brydon, alone in the silent little house, stood at the window looking +listlessly at the dull gray monochrome which stretched before her. + +The unaccustomed housework had roughened and chapped her hands, and the +many failures in her cooking experiments, in spite of Mrs, Corbett's +instructions, had left her tired and depressed, for a failure is always +depressing, even if it is only in the construction of the things which +perish. + +This dark morning it seemed to her that her life was as gray and +colorless as the bleached-out prairie--the glamor had gone from +everything. + +She and Fred had had their first quarrel, and Fred had gone away dazed +and hurt by the things she had said under the stress of her anger. He +was at a loss to know what had gone wrong with Evelyn, for she had +seemed quite contented all the time. He did not know how the many +little annoyances had piled up on her; how the utter loneliness of the +prairie, with its monotonous sweep of frost-killed grass, the deadly +sameness, and the perpetual silence of the house, had so worked upon +her mind that it required but a tiny spark to cause an explosion. + +The spark he had supplied himself when he had tried to defend his +brothers from her charges. All at once Evelyn felt herself grow cold +with anger, and the uncontrolled hasty words, bitterer than anything +she had ever thought, utterly unjust and cruel, sprang to her lips, and +Fred, stung to the quick with the injustice of it, had gone away +without a word. + +It was with a very heavy heart that he went to his work that day; but +he had to go, for he was helping one of the neighbors to thresh, and +every dry day was precious, and every man was needed. + +All day long Evelyn went about the house trying to justify herself. A +great wave of self-pity seemed to be engulfing her and blotting out +every worthier feeling. + +The prairie was hateful to her that day, its dull gray stretches cruel +and menacing, and a strange fear of it seemed to possess her. + +All day she tried to busy herself about the house, but she worked to no +purpose, taking up things and laying them down again, forgetting what +she was going to do with them; strange whispering voices seemed to +sound in the room behind her, trying to tell her something--to warn +her--and it was in vain that she tried to shake off their influence. +Once or twice she caught a glimpse of a black shadow over her shoulder, +just a reflecting vanishing glimpse, and when she turned hastily round +there was nothing there, but the voices, mocking and gibbering, were +louder than ever. + +She wished Fred would come. She would tell him that she hadn't meant +what she said. + +As the afternoon wore on, and Fred did not make his appearance, a +sudden deadly fear came over her at the thought of staying alone. Of +course the twins occupied the other half of the house, and to-night, at +least, she was glad of their protection. + +Suddenly it occurred to her that she had heard no sound from their +quarters for a long time. She listened and listened, the silence +growing more and more oppressive, until at last, overcoming her fears, +she went around and tried the door. Even the voices of her much- +despised brothers-in-law would be sweet music to her ears. + +The door was locked and there was no response to her knocks. + +An old envelope stuck in a sliver in the door bore the entry in lead- +pencil, "Gone Duck Shooting to Plover Slough," for it was the custom of +the twins to faithfully chronicle the cause of their absence and their +probable location each time they left home, to make it easy to find +them in the event of a cablegram from Aunt Patience's solicitors! + +Evelyn turned away and ran back to her own part of the house. She +hastily barred the door. + +The short autumn day was soon over. The sun broke out from the dull +gray mountain of clouds and threw a yellow glare on the colorless +field. She stood by the window watching the light as it faded and paled +and died, and then the shades of evening quickly gathered. Turning +again to replenish the fire, the darkness of the room startled her. +There was a shadow under the table like a cave's mouth. Unaccustomed +sounds smote her ear; the logs in the house creaked uncannily, and when +she walked across the floor muffled footfalls seemed to follow her. + +She put more wood in the stove and tried to shake off the apprehensions +which were choking her. She lit the lamp and hastily drew down the +white cotton blind and pinned it close to keep out the great pitiless +staring Outside, which seemed to be peering in at her with a dozen +white, mocking, merciless faces. + +In the lamp's dim light the shadows were blacker than ever; the big +packing-box threw a shadow on the wall that was as black as the mouth +of a tunnel in a mountain. + +She noticed that her stock of wood was running low, and with a mighty +effort of the will she opened the door to bring in some from a pile in +the yard. Stopping a minute to muster up her courage, she waited at the +open door. Suddenly the weird cry of a wolf came up from the creek +bank, and it was a bitter, lonely, insistent cry. + +She slammed the door, and coming back into the room, sank weak and +trembling into a chair. A horror grew upon her until the beads of +perspiration stood upon her face. Her hands grew numb and useless, and +the skin of her head seemed stiff and frozen. Her ears were strained to +catch any sound, and out of the silence there came many strange noises +to torment her overstrained senses. + +She thought of Mrs. Corbett at the Stopping-House, and tried to muster +courage to walk the distance, but a terrible fear held her to the spot. + +The fire died out, and the room grew colder and colder, but huddled in +a chair in a panic of fear she did not notice the cold. Her teeth +chattered; spots of light danced before her tightly-shut eyes. She did +not know what she was afraid of; a terrible nameless fear seemed to be +clutching at her very heart. It was the living, waking counterpart of +the nightmare that had made horrible her childhood nights--a gripping, +overwhelming fear of what might happen. + +Suddenly something burst into the room--the terrible something that she +had been waiting for. The silence broke into a thousand screaming +voices. She slipped to the floor and cried out in an agony of terror. + +There was a loud knocking on the door, and then through the horrible +silence that followed there came a voice calling to her not to be +afraid. + +She staggered to the door and unbarred it, and heard someone speak +again in blessed human voice. + +The door opened, and she found herself looking into the face of Rance +Belmont, and her fear-tortured eyes gave him a glad welcome. + +She seized him by the arm, holding to him as a child fear-smitten in +the night will hold fast to the one who comes in answer to his cries. + +Rance Belmont knew how to make the most, yet not too much, of an +advantage. He soothed her fears courteously, gently; he built up the +fire; he made her a cup of tea; there was that strange and subtle +influence in all that he said and did that made her forget everything +that was unpleasant and be happy in his presence. + +A perfect content grew upon her; she forgot her fears--her loneliness-- +her quarrel with Fred; she remembered only the happy company of the +present. + +Under the intoxication of the man's presence she ceased to be the +tired, discouraged, irritable woman, and became once more the Evelyn +Grant whose vivacity and wit had made her conspicuous in the brightest +company. + +She tried to remind herself of some of the unpleasant things that +neighborhood gossip said of Rance Belmont--of Mrs. Corbett's dislike of +him--but in the charm of his presence they all faded into vague +unrealities. + +There was flattery, clever, hidden flattery, which seemed like +adoration, in every word he spoke, every tone of his voice, every +glance of his coal-black eyes, that seemed in some way to atone for the +long, gray, monotonous days that had weighed so heavily upon her +spirits. + +"Are you always frightened when you are left alone?" he asked her. +Every word was a caress, the tone of his voice implying that she should +never be left alone, the magnetism of his presence assuring her that +she would never be left alone again. + +"I was never left alone in the evening before," she said. "I thought I +was very brave until to-night, but it was horrible--it makes me shudder +to think of it." + +"Don't think!" he said gently. + +"Fred thought the twins would be here, I know, or he would not have +stayed away," Evelyn said, wishing to do justice to Fred, and feeling +indefinitely guilty about something. + +"The twins are jolly good company,--oh, I say!" laughed Rance, in tones +so like her brothers-in-law that Evelyn laughed delightedly. It was +lovely to have someone to laugh with. + +"But where are the heavenly twins to-night?" + +"I suppose they saw a flock of ducks going over, or heard the honk-honk +of wild geese," she answered. "It does not take much to distract them +from labor--and they have a soul above it, you know." + +Rance Belmont need not have asked her about the twins; he had met them +on their way to the Plover Slough and had given Reginald the loan of +his gun; he had learned from them that Fred, too, was away. + +"But if dear Aunt Patience will only lift her anchor all will yet be +well, and the dear twins will not need to be bothered with anything so +beastly as farm-work." His tone and manner were so like the twins that +Evelyn applauded his efforts. Then he told her the story of the cow, +and of how the twins, endeavoring to follow the example of some of the +Canadians whom they had seen locking their wagon-wheels with a chain +when going down the Souris hill, had made a slight mistake in the +location of the chain and hobbled the oxen, with disastrous results. + +When he looked at his watch it was nine o'clock. + +"I must go," he said, hastily rising; "it would hardly do for me to be +found here!" + +"What do you mean?" she asked in surprise. + +"What do you suppose your husband would say if he came home and found +me here?" + +Evelyn flushed angrily. + +"My husband has confidence in me," she answered proudly. "I don't know +what he thinks of you, but I know what he thinks of me, and it would +make no difference what company he found me in, he would never doubt +me. I trust him in the same way. I would believe his word against that +of the whole world." + +She held her handsome head high when she said this. + +Rance Belmont looked at her with a dull glow in his black eyes. + +"I hope you are right," he said, watching the color coming in her face. + +"I am right," she said after a pause, daring which she had looked at +him defiantly. He was wise enough to see he had made a false move and +had lost ground in her regard. + +"I think you had better go," she said at last. "I do not like that +insinuation of yours that your presence here might be misconstrued. +Yes, I want you to go. I was glad to see you; I was never so glad to +see anyone; I was paralyzed with fear; but now I am myself again, and I +am sure Fred will come home." + +There was a sneering smile on his face which she understood and +resented. + +"In that case I had better go," he said. + +"That is not the reason I want you to go. I tell you again that Fred +would not believe that I was untrue to him. He believes in me utterly." +She drew herself up with an imperious gesture and added: "I am worthy +of his trust." + +Rance Belmont thought he had never seen her so beautiful. + +"I will not leave you," he declared. "Forgive me for speaking as I did. +I judged your husband by the standards of the world. I might have known +that the man who won you must be different from other men. It was only +for your sake that I said I must go. I care nothing for his fury. If it +were the fury of a hundred men I would stay with you; just to be near +you, to hear your sweet voice, to see you, is heaven to me." + +Evelyn sprang to her feet indignantly as he arose and came towards her. + +Just at that moment the door opened, and Fred Brydon, having heard the +last words, stood face to face with them both! + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +_HIS EVIL GENIUS_. + +When Fred Brydon went to his work that morning, smarting from the angry +words that Evelyn had hurled at him, everyone he met noticed how gloomy +and burdened he seemed to be; how totally unlike his former easy good- +nature and genial cheerfulness was his strange air of reserve. + +They thought they knew the cause, and told each other so when he was +not listening. + +When he came into the kitchen to wash himself at noon he heard one of +the men say to another in an aside: "He'll be the last one to catch +on." + +He paid no particular attention to the sentence at the time, but it +stuck in his memory. + +The day was fine and dry, and the thresher was run at the top of its +speed. One more day would finish the stacks, and as this was the last +threshing to be done in the neighborhood, the greatest effort was put +forth to finish it before the weather broke. + +They urged him to stay the night--they would begin again at daylight-- +the weather was so uncertain. + +He thought, of course, that the twins were safely at home, and Evelyn +had often said that she was not afraid to stay. He had consented to +stay, when all at once the weather changed. + +The clouds had hung low and heavy all day, but after sundown a driving +wind carrying stray flakes of snow began to whistle around the stacks. +The air, too, grew heavy, and a feeling of oppression began to be +evident. + +The pigs ran across the yard carrying a mouthful of straw, and the +cattle crowded into the sheds. Soon the ground was covered with loose +snow, which began to whirl in gentle, playful eddies. The warmth of the +air did not in any way deceive the experienced dwellers on the plain, +who knew that the metallic whistle in the wind meant business. + +The owner of the threshing machine covered it up with canvas, and all +those who had been helping, as soon as they had supper, started to make +the journey to their homes. It looked as if a real Manitoba blizzard +was setting in. + +In spite of the protestations of all the men, Fred did not wait for his +supper, but set out at once on the three-mile walk home. + +Evelyn's hasty words still stung him with the sense of failure and +defeat. If Evelyn had gone back on him what good was anything to him? + +Walking rapidly down the darkening trail, his thoughts were very bitter +and self-reproachful; he had done wrong, he told himself, to bring her +to such a lonely place--it would have been better for Evelyn if she had +never met him--she had given up too much for his sake. + +He noticed through the drifting storm that there was something ahead of +him on the trail, and, quickening his steps, he was surprised to +overtake his two brothers leisurely returning from their duck hunt. + +"Why did you two fellows leave when you knew I was away? You know that +Evelyn will be frightened to be left there all alone." + +Instantly all his own troubles vanished at the thought of his wife left +alone on the wide prairie. + +His brothers strongly objected to his words. + +"We don't 'ave to stay to mind 'er, do we?" sneered Reginald. + +"Maybe she ain't alone, either," broke in Randolph, seeing an +opportunity to turn Fred's wrath in another direction. + +"What are you driving at?" asked Fred in surprise. + +"Maybe Rance Belmont has dropped in again to spend the evenin'--he +usually does when you're away!" + +"You lie!" cried Fred, angrily. + +"We ain't lyin'," declared Randolph. "Everybody knows it only you." + +The words were no sooner said than Fred fell upon him like a madman. +Randolph roared lustily for help, and Reginald valiantly strove to save +him from Fred's fury. But they retreated before him as he rained his +blows upon them both. + +Then Reginald, finding that he was no match for Fred in open conflict, +dodged around behind him, and soon a misty dizziness in his head told +Fred that he had been struck by something heavier than hands. There was +a booming in his ears and he fell heavily to the road. + +The twins were then thoroughly frightened. Here was a dreadful and +unforeseen possibility. + +They stood still to consider what was to be done. + +"It was you done it, remember," said Randolph to Reginald. + +"But I done it to save you!" cried Reginald, indignantly, "and you +can't prove it was me. People can't tell us apart." + +"Anyway," said Reginald, "everybody will blame it on Rance Belmont if +he is killed--and see here, here's the jolly part of it. I'll leave +Rance's gun right beside him. That'll fix the guilt on Rance!" + +"Well, we won't go home; we'll go back and stay in the shootin'-house +at the Slough, and then we can prove we weren't home at all, and +there'll be no tracks by mornin', anyway." + +The twins turned around and retraced their steps through the storm, +very hungry and very cross, but forgetting these emotions in the +presence of a stronger one--fear. + +But Fred was not killed, only stunned by Reginald's cowardly blow. The +soft flakes melting on his face revived him, and sitting up he looked +about him trying to remember where he was. Slowly it all came to him, +and stiff and sore, he got upon his feet. There were no signs of the +twins, but to this Fred gave no thought; his only anxiety was for +Evelyn, left alone on such a wild night. + +When he entered his own house with Rance Belmont's words ringing in his +ears, he stood for a moment transfixed. His brother's words which he +had so hotly resented surged over him now with fatal conviction; also +the words he had heard at the threshing, "He'll be the last one to +catch on," came to him like the flash of lightning that burns and +uproots and destroys. + +His head swam dizzily and lights danced before his eyes. He stood for a +moment without speaking. He was not sure that it wasn't all a horrible +dream. + +If he had looked first at Evelyn, her honest face and flashing eyes +would have put his unworthy suspicions to flight. But Rance Belmont +with his fatal magnetic presence drew his gaze. Rance Belmont stood +with downcast eyes, the living incarnation of guilt. It was all a pose, +of course, but Rance Belmont, with his deadly gift of being able to +make any impression he wished, made a wonderful success of the part he +had all at once decided to play. + +Looking at him, Fred's smouldering jealousy burst into flame. + +There was an inarticulate sound in his throat, and striding forward he +landed a smashing blow on Rance Belmont's averted face. + +"Oh, Fred!" Evelyn cried, springing forward, "for shame!--how could +you!--how dare you!--" + +"Don't talk to me of shame!" Fred cried, his face white with anger. + +"Don't blame her," Rance said in a low voice. He made no attempt to +defend himself. + +In her excitement Evelyn did not notice the sinister significance of +his words and what they implied. She was conscious of nothing only that +Fred had insulted her by his actions, and her wrath grew as terrible as +her husband's. + +She caught him by the shoulder and compelled him to look at her. + +"Fred," she cried, "do you believe--do you dare to believe this +terrible thing?" + +She shook him in her rage and excitement. + +Rance Belmont saw that Fred would be convinced of her innocence if he +did not gain his attention, and the devil in him spoke again, soft, +misleading, lying words, part truth, yet all false, leaving no chance +for denial. + +"Don't blame her--the fault has all been mine," he interposed again. + +In her blind rage again Evelyn missed the significance of his words. +She was conscious of one thought only--Fred had not immediately craved +her pardon. She shook and trembled with uncontrollable rage. + +"I hate you, Fred!" she cried, her voice sounding thin and unnatural. +"I hate you! One minute ago I believed you to be the noblest man on +earth; now I know you for an evil-minded, suspicious, contemptible, +dog!--a dog!--a cur! My father was right about you. I renounce you +forever!" + +She pulled the rings from her finger and flung them against the window, +cracking the glass across. "I will never look on your face again, I +hope. This is my reward, is it, for giving up everything for you? I +boasted of your trust in me a minute ago, but you have shamed me; you +have dragged my honor in the dust, but now I am free--and you may +believe what you please!" + +She turned to Rance Belmont. + +"Will you drive me to Brandon to-night?" she asked. + +She put on her coat and hat without a word or a look at the man, who +stood as if rooted to the ground. + +Then opening the door she went out quickly, and Rance Belmont, with +something like triumph on his black face, quickly followed her, and +Fred Brydon, bruised in body and stricken in soul, was left alone in +his desolate house. + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +_DA'S TURN_. + +The wind was whistling down the Black Creek Valley, carrying heavy +flakes of snow that whirled and eddied around them, as Rance Belmont +and Evelyn made their way to the Stopping-House. The stormy night +accorded well with the turmoil in Evelyn's brain. One point she had +decided--she would go back to her father, and for this purpose she +asked her companion if he would lend her one hundred dollars. This he +gladly consented to do. + +He was discreet enough to know that he must proceed with caution, +though he felt that in getting her separated from her husband and so +thoroughly angry with him that he had made great progress. Now he +believed that if he could get her away from the Stopping-House his +magnetic influence over her would bring her entirely under his power. + +But she had insisted on going in to the Stopping-House to see Mrs. +Corbett and tell her what she was going to do. It was contrary to +Evelyn's straightforwardness to do anything in an under-handed way, and +she felt that she owed it to Mrs. + +Corbett, who had been her staunch friend, to tell her the truth of the +story, knowing that many versions of it would be told. + +Mrs. Corbett was busy setting a new batch of bread, and looked up with +an exclamation of surprise when they walked into the kitchen, white +with snow. It staggered Mrs. Corbett somewhat to see them together at +that late hour, but she showed no surprise as she made Mrs. Brydon +welcome. + +"I am going away, Mrs. Corbett," Evelyn began at once. + +"No bad news from home, is there?" Mrs. Corbett asked anxiously. + +"No bad news from home, but bad news here. Fred and I have quarrelled +and parted forever!" + +Mrs. Corbett drew Evelyn into the pantry and closed the door. She could +do nothing, she felt, with Rance Belmont present. + +"Did you quarrel about him?" she asked, jerking her head towards the +door. + +Evelyn told her story, omitting only Rance Belmont's significant +remarks, which indeed she had not heard. + +Mrs. Corbett listened attentively until she was done. + +"Ain't that just like a man, poor, blunderin' things they are. Sure and +it was just his love for you, honey, that made him break out so +jealous!" + +"Love!" Evelyn broke in scornfully. "Love should include trust and +respect--I don't want love without them. How dare he think that I would +do anything that I shouldn't? Do I look like a woman who would go +wrong?" + +"Sure you don't, honey!" Mrs. Corbett soothed her, "but you know Rance +Belmont is so smooth-tongued and has such a way with him that all men +hate him, and the women like him too well. But what are you goin' to +do, dear? Sure you can't leave your man." + +"I have left him," said Evelyn. "I am going to Brandon now to-night in +time for the early train. Rance Belmont will drive me." + +Something warned Mrs. Corbett not to say all that was in her heart, so +she temporized. + +"Sure, if I were you I wouldn't go off at night--it don't look well. +Stay here till mornin'. The daylight's the best time to go. Don't go +off at night as if you were doin' something you were ashamed of. Go in +broad daylight." + +"What do I care what people say about me?" Evelyn raged again. "They +can't say any worse than my husband believes of me. No--I am going--I +want to put distance between us; I just came in to say good-bye and to +tell you how it happened. I wanted you and Mr. Corbett to know the +truth, for you have been kind friends to me, and I'll never, never +forget you." + +"I'd be afraid you'd never get to Brandon tonight, honey." Mrs. Corbett +held her close, determining in her own mind that she would lock her in +the pantry if there was no other way of detaining her. "Listen to the +wind--sure it's layin' in for a blizzard. I knew that all day. The +roads will be drifted so high you'd never get there, even with the big +pacer. Stay here tonight just to oblige me, and you can go on in the +morning if it's fit." + +Meanwhile John Corbett had been warning Rance Belmont that the weather +was unfit for anyone to be abroad, and the fact that George Sims, the +horse trader from Millford, and Dan Lonsbury, had put in for the night, +made a splendid argument in favor of his doing the same. Rance Belmont +had no desire to face a blizzard unnecessarily, particularly at night, +and the storm was growing thicker every minute. So after consulting +with Evelyn, who had yielded to Mrs. Corbett's many entreaties, he +agreed to remain where he was for the night. Evelyn went at once to the +small room over the kitchen, which Mrs. Corbett kept for special +guests, and as she busied herself about the kitchen Mrs. Corbett could +hear her pacing up and down in her excitement. + +Mrs. Corbett hastily baked biscuits and "buttermilk bread" to feed her +large family, who, according to the state of the weather and the +subsequent state of the roads, might be with her for several days, and +while her hands were busy, her brain was busier still, and being a +praying woman, Maggie Corbett was looking for help in the direction +from which help comes. + +The roaring of the storm as it swept past the house, incessantly +mourning in the mud chimney and sifting the snow against the frosted +windows, brought comfort to her anxious heart, for it reminded her that +dominion and majesty and power belong to the God whom she served. + +When she put the two pans of biscuits in the oven she looked through +the open door into the "Room," where her unusual number of guests were +lounging about variously engaged. + +Rance Belmont smoked cigarettes constantly and shuffled the cards as if +to read his fate therein. He would dearly have loved a game with some +one, for he had the soul of a gambler, but Mrs. Corbett's decree +against card-playing was well known. + +Dan Lonsbury, close beside the table lamp, read a week-old copy of the +Brandon _Times_. George Sims, the horse-dealer, by the light of his own +lantern, close beside him on the bench, pared his corns with minute +attention to detail. + +Under the wall lamp, which was fastened to the window frame, Da +Corbett, in his cretonne-covered barrel-chair of home manufacture, read +the _War Cry_, while Peter Rockett, on his favorite seat, the wood-box, +played one of the Army tunes on his long-suffering Jew's-harp. + +"They can't get away as long as the storm lasts, anyway," Mrs. Corbett +was thinking, thankful even for this temporary respite, "but they'll go +in the mornin' if the storm goes down, and I can't stop them--vain is +the help of man." + +Suddenly Mrs. Corbett started as if she had heard a strange and +disturbing noise; she threw out her hands as if in protest. She sat +still a few moments holding fast to the kitchen table in her +excitement; her eyes glittered, and her breath came short and fast. + +She went hurriedly into the pantry, fearful that her agitation might be +noticed. In her honest soul it seemed to her that her plan, so +terrible, so daring, so wicked, must be sounding now in everybody's +ears. + +In the darkness of the pantry she tried to think it out. Was it an +inspiration from heaven, or was it a suggestion of the devil? One +minute she was imploring Satan to "get thee behind me," and the next +minute she was thanking God and whispering Hallelujahs! A lull in the +storm drove her to immediate action. + +John Corbett came out into the kitchen to see what was burning, for +Maggie had forgotten her biscuits. + +When the biscuits were attended to she took "Da" with her into the +pantry, and she said to him, "Da, is it ever right to do a little wrong +so that good will come of it?" + +She asked the question so impersonally that John Corbett replied +without hesitation: "It is never right, Maggie." + +"But, Da," she cried, seizing the lapel of his coat, "don't you mind +hearin' o' how the priests have given whiskey to the Indians when they +couldn't get the white captives away from them any other way? Wasn't +that right?" + +"Sure and it was; at a time like that it was right to do anything--but +what are you coming at, Maggie?" + +"If Rance Belmont lost all the money he has on him, and maybe ran a bit +in debt, he couldn't go away to-morrow with her, could he? She thinks +he's just goin' to drive her to Brandon, but I know him--he'll go with +her, sure--she can't help who travels on the train with her--and how'll +that look? But if he were to lose his money he couldn't travel dead +broke, could he, Da?" + +"Not very far," agreed Da, "but what are you coming at, Maggie? Do you +want me to go through him?" He laughed at the suggestion. + +"Ain't there any way you can think of, Da--no, don't think--the sin is +mine and I'll take it fair and square on my soul. I don't want you to +be blemt for it--Da, listen--" she whispered in his ear. + +John Corbett caught her in his arms. + +"Would I? Would I? Oh, Maggie, would a duck swim?" he said, keeping his +voice low to avoid being heard in the other room. + +"Don't be too glad, Da; remember it's a wicked thing I'm askin' you to +do; but, Da, are you sure you haven't forgot how?" + +John Corbett laughed. "Maggie, when a man learns by patient toil to +tell the under side of an ace he does not often forget, but of course +there is always the chance, that's the charm of it--nobody can be quite +sure." + +"I've thought of every way I can think of," she said, after a pause, +"and this seems to be the only way. I just wish it was something I +could do myself and not be bringing black guilt on your soul, but maybe +God'll understand. Maybe it was so that you'd be ready for to-night +that He let you learn to be so handy with them. Sure Ma always said +that God can do His work with quare tools; and now, Da, I'll slip off +to bed, and you'll pretend you're stealin' a march on me, and he'll +enjoy himself all the more if he thinks he's spitin' me. Oh, Da, I wish +I knew it was right--maybe it's ruinin' your soul I am, puttin' you up +to such wickedness, but I'll be prayin' for you as hard as I can." + +Da looked worried. "Maggie, I don't know about the prayin'--I was +always able to find the card I needed without bein' prayed for." + +"Oh, I mean I'll pray it won't hurt you. I wouldn't interfere with the +game, for I don't know one card from another, and I'm sure the Lord +don't either, but it's your soul I'm thinkin' of and worried about. +I'll slip down with the green box--there's more'n a hundred dollars in +it. And now good-bye, Da--go at him, and God bless you--and play like +the divil!" + +Mr. John Corbett slowly folded up the _War Cry_ and placed it in his +pocket, and when Maggie brought down the green box with their earnings +in it he emptied its contents in his pocket, and then, softly humming +to himself, he went into the other room. + +The wind raged and the storm roared around the Black Creek Stopping- +House all that night, but inside the fire burned bright in the box- +stove, and an interested and excited group sat around the table where +Rance Belmont and John Corbett played the game! Peter Rockett, with his +eyes bulging from his head, watched his grave employer cut and deal and +gather in the stakes, with as much astonishment as if that dignified +gentleman had walked head downward on the ceiling. Yet John Corbett +proceeded with the game, as grave and solemn as when he asked a +blessing at the table. Sometimes he hummed snatches of Army tunes, and +sometimes Rance Belmont swore softly, and to the anxious ear which +listened at the stovepipe-hole above, both sounds were of surpassing +sweetness! + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +_THE BLIZZARD_. + +When the door closed behind Rance Belmont and Evelyn, Fred sank into a +chair with the whole room whirling dizzily around him. Why had the +world gone so suddenly wrong? + +His head was quite clear now, and only the throbbing hurt on the back +of his head reminded him of Reginald's cowardly blow. But his anger +against his brothers had faded into apathy in the presence of this new +trouble which seemed to choke the very fountains of his being. + +One terrible fact smote him with crushing force--Evelyn had left him +and gone with Rance Belmont. She said she hoped she would never see him +again--that she was done with him--and her eyes had blazed with anger +and hatred--and she had stepped in between him and the miserable +villain whom he would have so dearly loved to have beaten the life out +of. + +He tried to rage against her, but instead he could think of nothing but +her sweet imperiousness, her dazzling beauty, her cheerfulness under +all circumstances, and her loyalty to him. + +She had given up everything for him--for his sake she had defied her +father, renounced all share in his great wealth, suffered the hardships +and loneliness of the prairie, all for him. + +Her workbag lay on the table, partly open. It seemed to call and beckon +to him. He took it tenderly in his hands, and from its folds there fell +a crumpled sheet of paper. He smoothed it out, and found it partly +written on in Evelyn's clear round hand. + +He held it to the light eagerly, as one might read a message from the +dead. Who was Evelyn writing to? + +"_ When you ask me to leave my husband you ask me to do a dishonorable +and cowardly thing. Fred has never_"--the writing ceased abruptly. Fred +read it again aloud, then sprang to his feet with a smothered +exclamation. Only one solution presented itself to his mind. She had +been writing to Rance Belmont trying to withstand his advances, trying +to break away from his devilish influence. She had tried to be true to +herself and to him. + +Fred remembered then with bitter shame the small help he had given her. +He had wronged her when he struck Rance Belmont. + +One overwhelming thought rose out of the chaos of his mind--she must be +set free from the baneful influence of this man. If she were not strong +enough to resist him herself, she must be helped, and that help must +come from him--he had sworn to protect her, and he would do it. + +There was just one way left to him now. Fred's face whitened at the +thought, and his eyes had an unnatural glitter, but there was a deadly +purpose in his heart. + +In his trunk he found the Smith and Wesson that one of the boys in the +office had given him when he left, and which he had never thought of +since. He hastily but carefully loaded it and slipped it into his +pocket. Then reaching for his snowy overcoat, which had fallen to the +floor, and putting the lamp in the window, more from habit than with +any purpose, he went out into the night. + +The storm had reached its height when Fred Brydon, pulling has cap down +over his ears, set out on his journey. It was a wild enough night to +turn any traveller aside from his purpose, but Fred Brydon, in his +rage, had ceased to be a man with a man's fears, a man's frailties, and +had become an avenging spirit, who knew neither cold nor fatigue. A +sudden stinging of his ears made him draw his cap down more closely, +but he went forward at a brisk walk, occasionally breaking into a run. + +He had but one thought in his mind--he must yet save Evelyn. He had +deserted her in her hour of need, but he would yet make amends. + +The wind which sang dismally around him reminded him with a sickening +blur of homesickness of the many pleasant evenings he and Evelyn had +spent in their little shack, with the same wind making eerie music in +the pipe of the stove. Yesterday and to-day were separated by a gulf as +wide as death itself. + +He had gone about three miles when he heard a faint halloo come down +the wind. It sounded two or three times before the real significance of +it occurred to him, so intent was he upon his own affairs. But louder +and more insistent came the unmistakable call for help. + +A fierce temptation assailed Fred Brydon. He must not delay--every +minute was precious--to save Evelyn, his wife, was surely more his duty +than to set lost travellers on their way again. Besides, he told +himself, it was not a fiercely cold night--there was no great danger of +any person freezing to death; and even so, were not some things more +vital than saving people from death, which must come sooner or later? +Then down the wind came the cry again--a frightened cry--he could hear +the words--"Help! help! for God's sake!" Something in Fred Brydon's +heart responded to that appeal. He could not hurry by unheeding. + +Guided by the calls, he turned aside from his course and made his way +through the choking storm across the prairie. + +The cries came nearer, and Fred shouted in reply--words of impatient +encouragement. No rescuer ever went to his work with a worse grace. + +A large, dark object loomed faintly through the driving storm. + +"What's the matter?" called Fred, when he was within speaking distance. + +"I'm caught--tangled up in some devilish thing," came back the cry. + +Fred hurried forward, and found a man, almost covered with snow, +huddled beside a haystack, his clothing securely held by the barbs of +the wire with which the stack was fenced. + +"You're stuck in the barbed wire," said Fred, as he removed his mittens +and with a good deal of difficulty released the man from the close grip +of the barbs. + +"I hired a livery-man at Brandon to bring me out, and his bronchos +upset us and got away from him. He walked them the whole way--the roads +were heavy--and then look at what they did! I came over here for +shelter--the driver ran after the team, and then these infernal +fishhooks got hold of me--what are they, anyway?" + +Fred explained. + +"This is surely a God-forsaken country that can jerk a storm like this +on you in November," the older man declared, as Fred carefully dusted +the snow off him, wondering all the time what he was going to do with +him. + +"Where are you going?" Fred asked, abruptly. + +"I want to get to the Black Creek Stopping-House. How far am I from +there now?" + +"About three miles," said Fred. + +"Well, I guess I can walk that far if you'll show me the road." + +Fred hesitated. + +"I am going to Brandon," he said. + +"What is any sane man going to Brandon to-night for?" the stranger +cried, impatiently. "Great Scott! I thought I was the only man who was +a big enough fool to be out to-night. The driver assured me of that +several times. I guess there's a woman in the case with you, too." + +"Did you meet anyone?" Fred asked, quickly. "Not a soul! I tell you +you and I are the only crazy ones to-night." + +Fred considered a minute. + +"I'll take you on your way," he said. + +The stranger suddenly remembered something. "I'm a good bit obliged to +you, young man, whoever you are. I guess I'd have been here all night +if you hadn't come along and heard me. I was beginning to get chilly, +too. Is this a blizzard?" + +"Yes, I guess it is," Fred answered, shortly, "and it's not improving +any, so I guess we had better hurry on." + +It was much easier going with the wind, and at first the older man, +helped along by Fred, made good progress. Fred knew that every minute +the drifts were growing higher and the road harder to keep. + +The night grew colder and darker, and the storm seemed to thicken. + +"Pretty hard going for an old man of sixty," the stranger said, +stopping to get his breath. The storm seemed to choke him. + +Soon he begged to be let rest, and when Fred tried to start him again +he experienced some difficulty. The cold was getting into his very +bones, and was causing a fatal drowsiness. + +Fred told him this and urged him to put forth his greatest efforts. +They were now but a mile from Fred's house. Every few minutes the light +in the window glimmered through the storm, the only ray of light in the +maze of whirling snow which so often thickened and darkened and blotted +it out altogether. + +When they were about half a mile from the house, the old man, without +warning, dropped into the snow and begged Fred to go on without him. He +was all right, he declared, warm and comfortable, and wanted to rest. + +"You'll freeze to death!" Fred cried. "That's the beginning of it." + +"Feel very comfortable," the old man mumbled. + +Fred coaxed, reasoned, entreated, but all in vain. He shook the old +man, scolded, threatened, but all to no purpose. + +There was only one thing to be done. + +Fred threw off his own coat, which was a heavy one, and picked the old +man up, though he was no light weight, and set off with him. + +But the man objected to being carried, and, squirming vigorously, +slipped out of Fred's arms, and once more declared his intention of +sleeping in the snow. + +With his frozen mitten Fred dealt him a stinging blow on the cheek +which made him yell with pain and surprise. + +"Do what I tell you!" cried Fred. + +The blow seemed to rouse him from his stupor, and he let Fred lead him +onward through the storm. + +When they arrived at Fred's house he put the old man in a rocking- +chair, first removing his snowy outer garments, and made sure that he +had no frost-bites. Then hastily lighting the fire, which had burned +itself out, he made coffee and fried bacon. + +When the old man had taken a cup of the coffee he began to take an +interest in his surroundings. + +"How did I get here?" he asked. "The last thing I remember I was +sitting down, feeling very drowsy, and someone was bothering me to get +up. Did I get up?" + +"Not until I lifted you," said Fred. + +"Did you carry me?" the other man asked in surprise. + +"I did until you kicked and squirmed so I couldn't hold you." + +"What did you do then?" queried his visitor, tenderly feeling his sore +cheek. + +"I slapped you once, but you really deserved far more," said Fred, +gravely. + +"What did I do then?" + +"You got up and behaved yourself so nicely I was sorry that I hadn't +slapped you sooner!" + +The old man laughed to himself without a sound. + +"What's your name?" he asked. + +While this dialogue had been in progress Fred had been studying his +companion closely, with a growing conviction that he knew him. He was +older, grayer, and of course the storm had reddened his face, but Fred +thought he could not be mistaken. + +The old man repeated the question. + +"Brown!" said Fred, shortly, giving the first name he could think of. + +"You're a strapping fine young fellow, Brown, even if you did hit me +with your hard mitt, and I believe I should be grateful to you." + +"Don't bother," said Fred shortly. + +"I will bother," the old man cried, imperiously, with a gesture of his +head that Fred knew well; "I will bother, and my daughter will thank +you, too." + +"Your daughter!" Fred exclaimed, turning his back to pick out another +stick for the stove. + +"Yes, my girl, my only girl--it's her I came to see. She's living near +here. I guess you'd know her: she's married to a no-good Englishman, a +real lizzie-boy, that wouldn't say boo to a goose!" + +Fred continued to fix the fire, poking it unnecessarily. He was +confident that Evelyn's father would not recognize him with his crop of +whiskers and sunburnt face. His mind was full of conflicting emotions. + +"Maybe you know him," said the old man. "His name is Brydon. They live +somewhere near the Stopping-House." + +"I've not lived here long," said Fred, evasively, "but I've heard of +them." + +The comfort and security of the warm little shack, as well as the good +meal Fred had given him, had loosened the old man's tongue. + +"I never liked this gent. I only saw him once, but it don't take me +long to make up my mind. He carried a cane and had his monogram on his +socks--that was enough for me--and a red tie on him, so red you'd think +his throat was cut. I says to myself, I don't want that shop window +Judy round my house,' but Evelyn thought he was the best going. Funny +thing that that girl was the very one to laugh at dudes before that, +but she stuck it out that he was a fine chap. She's game, all right, my +girl is. She stays right with the job. I wrote and told her to come on +back and I'd give her every cent I have--but she pitched right into me +about not asking Fred. Here's her letter. Oh, she's a spunky one!" He +was fumbling in his pockets as he spoke. Drawing out a long pocketbook, +he took out a letter. He deliberately opened the envelope and read. +Fred with difficulty held back his hand from seizing it. + +"Listen to this how she lit into me: 'When you ask me to leave my +husband you ask me to do a dishonorable thing--'" + +Fred heard no more--he hung on to the seat of his chair with both +hands, breathing hard, but the old man took no notice of him and read +on: + +"'Fred is in every way worthy of your respect, but you have been +utterly unjust to him from the first. I will enjoy poverty and +loneliness with him rather than endure every pleasure without him.'" + +Fred's world had suddenly righted itself--he saw it all now--this was +the man she was writing to--this was the man who had tried to induce +her to leave him. + +"I haven't really anything against this Fred chap--maybe his clothes +were all right. I was brought up in the lumber business, though, and I +don't take to flowered stockings and monograms--I kept wondering how +he'd look in overalls! What was really wrong with me--and you'll never +know how it feels until you have a girl of your own, and she leaves +you--was that I was jealous of the young gent for taking my girl when +she was all I had." + +Fred suddenly understood many things; a fellow feeling for the old man +filled his heart, and in a flash he saw the past in an entirely +different light. + +He broke out impetuously, "She thinks of you the same as ever, I know +she does--" then, seeing his mistake, he said, "I know them slightly, +and I've heard she was lonely for you." + +"Then why didn't she tell me? She has always kept up these spunky +letters to me, and said she was happy, and all that--she liked to live +here, she said. What's this Fred fellow like?" The old man leaned +toward him confidentially. + +"Oh, just so-so," Fred answered, trying to make the stove take more +wood than it was ever intended to take. "I never had much use for him, +and I know people wondered what she saw in him." + +The old man was glad to have his opinion sustained, and by a local +authority, too. + +"It wasn't because he hadn't money that I objected to him--it wasn't +that, for I have a place in my business where I need a smart, up-to- +date chap, and I'd have put him there quick, but he didn't seem to have +any snap in him--too polite, you know--the kind of a fellow that would +jump to pick up a handkerchief like as if he was shot out of a gun. I +don't care about money, but I like action. Now, if she had taken a +fancy to a brown-faced chap like you I wouldn't have cared if he hadn't +enough money to make the first payment on a postage stamp. I kinda +liked the way you let fly at me when I was acting contrary with you out +there in the storm. But, tell me, how does this Fred get on? Is he as +green as most Englishmen?" + +"He's green enough," Fred agreed, "but he's not afraid of work. But +come now, don't you want to go to bed? I can put you up for the night, +what there's left of it; it's nearly morning now." + +The old man yawned sleepily, and was easily persuaded to go to bed. + +When the old man was safely out of the way Fred put his revolver back +where he had found it. The irony of the situation came home to him--he +had gone out to kill, but in a mysterious way it had been given to him +to save instead of take life. But what good was anything to him now?-- +the old man had come one day too late. + +At daylight, contrary to all expectations, the storm went down, only +the high packed drifts giving evidence of the fury of the night before. + +As soon as the morning came Fred put on his father-in-law's coat, +having left his in the snow, and went over to the Black Creek Stopping- +House. Mrs. Corbett was the only person who could advise him. + +He walked into the kitchen, which was never locked, just as Mrs. +Corbett, carrying her boots in her hand as if she were afraid of +disturbing someone, came softly down the stairs. + +Mrs. Corbett had determined to tell Fred what a short-sighted, jealous- +minded man he was when she saw him, but one look at his haggard face-- +for the events of the previous night were telling on him now--made her +forget that she had any feeling toward him but sympathy. She read the +question in his eyes which his lips were afraid to utter. + +"She's here, Fred, safe and sound," she whispered. + +"Oh, Mrs. Corbett," he whispered in return, "I've been an awful fool! +Did she tell you? Will she ever forgive me, do you think?" + +"Ask her!" said Mrs. Corbett, pointing up the narrow stairs. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +_WHEN THE DAY BROKE_. + +All night long the tide of fortune ebbed and flowed around the table +where Rance Belmont and John Corbett played the game which is still +remembered and talked of by the Black Creek old settlers when their +thoughts run upon old times. + +Just as the daylight began to show blue behind the frosted panes, and +the yellow lamplight grew pale and sickly, Rance Belmont rose and +stretched his stiffened limbs. + +"I am sorry to bring such a pleasant gathering to an end," he said, +with his inscrutable smile, "but I believe I am done." He was searching +through his pockets as he spoke. "Yes, I believe the game is over." + +"You're a mighty good loser, Rance," George Sims declared with +admiration. + +The other men rose, too, and went out to feed their horses, for the +storm was over and they must soon be on the road. + +When John Corbett and Rance Belmont went out into the kitchen, Maggie +Corbett was chopping up potatoes in the frying-pan with a baking-powder +can, looking as fresh and rested as if she had been asleep all night, +instead of holding a lonely vigil beside a stovepipe-hole. + +John Corbett advanced to the table and solemnly deposited the green box +thereon; then with painstaking deliberation he arranged the contents of +his pockets in piles. Rance Belmont's watch lay by itself; then the +bills according to denomination; last of all the silver and a slip of +brown paper with writing on it in lead-pencil. + +When all was complete, he nodded to Maggie to take charge of the +proceedings. + +Maggie hastily inspected the contents of the green box, and having +satisfied herself that it was all there, she laid it up, high and dry, +on the clock shelf. + +Then she hastily looked at the piles and read the slip of brown paper, +which seemed to stand for one sorrel pacer, one cutter, one set single +harness, two goat robes. + +"Rance," said Maggie, slowly, "we don't want a cent that don't belong +to us. I put Da at playing with you in the hope he would win all away +from you that you had, for we were bound to stop you from goin' away +with that dear girl if it could be done, and we knew you couldn't go +broke; but now you can't do any harm if you had all the money in the +world, for she's just gone home a few minutes ago with her man." + +Rance Belmont started forward with a smothered oath, which Mrs. Corbett +ignored. + +"So take your money and horse and all, Rance. It ain't me and Da would +keep a cent we haven't earned. Take it, Rance"--shoving it toward him-- +"there's no hard feelin's now, and good luck to you! Sure, I guess Da +enjoyed the game, and it seems he hadn't forgot the way." Maggie +Corbett could not keep a small note of triumph out of her voice. + +Rance Belmont gathered up the money without a word, and, putting on his +cap and overcoat, he left the Black Creek Stopping-House. John Corbett +carried the green box upstairs and put it carefully back in its place +of safety, while Maggie Corbett carefully peppered and salted the +potatoes in the pan. + + * * * * * + +When Robert Grant, of the Imperial Lumber Company, of Toronto, wakened +from his slumber it was broad daylight, and the yellow winter sun +poured in through the frosted panes. The events of the previous night +came back to him by degrees; the sore place on his face reminding him +of the slight difference of opinion between himself and his new friend, +young Mr. Brown. + +"Pretty nice, tasty room this young fellow has," he said to himself, +looking around at the many evidences of daintiness and good taste. +"He's a dandy fine young fellow, that Brown. I could take to him +without half trying." + +Then he became conscious of low voices in the next room. + +"Hello, Brown!" he called. + +Fred appeared in the doorway with a smiling face. + +"How do you feel this morning, Mr. Grant?" he asked. + +"I feel hungry," Mr. Grant declared. "I want some more of your good +prairie cooking. If I get another meal of it I believe I'll be able to +make friends with my son-in-law. When are you going to let me get up?" + +Just then there was a rustle of skirts and Evelyn came swiftly into the +room. + +"Oh, father! father!" she cried, kissing the old man over and over +again. "You will forgive me, won't you?" + +The old man's voice was husky with happy tears. + +"I guess we won't talk about forgiveness, dearie--we're about even, I +think--but we've had our lesson. I've got my girl back--and, Evelyn, I +want you and Fred to come home with me for Christmas and forever. +You've got the old man solid, Evelyn. I couldn't face a Christmas +without you." + +Evelyn kissed him again without speaking. + +"I will apologize to your man, Evelyn," the old man said, after a +pause. "I haven't treated the boy right. I hope he won't hold it +against me." + +"Not a bit of it," declared Evelyn. "You don't know Fred--that's all." + +"Oh, how did you get here, Evelyn? Do you live near here? I have been +so glad to see you I forgot to ask." + +"Mr. Brown brought me over," said Evelyn, unblushingly. "He came over +early this morning to tell me you were here. Wasn't it nice of him?" + +"He's a dandy fellow, this young Brown," said the old man, and then +stopped abruptly. + +Evelyn's eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter. + +"But where is Fred?" her father asked, with an effort, and Evelyn +watched him girding himself for a painful duty. + +"I'll call him," she said, sweetly. + +The old man's grey eyes grew dark with excitement and surprise as his +friend Brown came into the room and stood beside Evelyn and quite +brazenly put his left arm around her waist. His face was a study in +emotions as his quick brain grasped the situation. With a prolonged +whistle he dropped back on the pillow, and pulling the counterpane over +his face he shook with laughter. + +"The joke is all on me," he cried. "I have been three or four different +kinds of a fool." + +Then he emerged from the bed-clothes and, sitting up, grasped Fred's +outstretched hand. + +"There's one thing, though, I am very proud of, Fred," he said; "I may +not be a good judge of humanity myself, but I am glad to know that my +girl had all her wits about her when she went to pick out a man for +herself!" + +Randolph and Reginald stayed in hiding until it was established beyond +all doubt that their brother Fred was alive and well. Then they came +back to the "Sailors' Rest," and life for them went on as before. + +At Christmas time a bulky letter and a small white box came addressed +to them, bearing the postmark of Bournemouth. + +The brothers seized their letter with undiluted joy; it was addressed +in a bold, masculine hand, a lawyer's undoubtedly--a striking though +perhaps not conclusive proof that Aunt Patience had winged her flight. + +They were a little bit disappointed that it had not black edges--they +had always imagined that the "blow" would come with black edges. + +Reginald opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor. + +Randolph opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor. + +It contained a thick announcement card, with heavy gold edge, and the +news that it carried was to the effect that on December the first Miss +Priscilla Abigail Patience Brydon had been united in marriage to Rev. +Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland, Rector of St. Albans, Tilbury-on- +the-Stoke, and followed this with the information that Mr. and Mrs. +Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland would be at home after January the +first in the Rectory, Appleblossom Court, Parklane Road, Tilbury-on- +the-Stoke. + +The envelope also contained a sweetly happy, fluttery little note from +Aunt Patience, saying she hoped they were well, and that she would try +to be a good mother to the Rector's four little boys. + +The small white box contained two squares of wedding cake! + + + + + + +THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Globe_, Toronto.) + +George Shaw came back to his desolate hearth, and, sitting by the +untidy table, thought bitter things of women. The stove dripped ashes; +the table overflowed with dirty dishes. + +His last housekeeper had been gone a week--she had left by request. +Incidentally there disappeared at the same time towels, pillow-covers, +a few small tools, and many other articles which are of a size to go in +a trunk. + +His former housekeeper, second to the last, had been a teary-eyed +English lady, who, as a child, had played with King George, and was +well beloved by all the Royal family. She had a soul above work, and +utterly despised Canadians. Once, when her employer remonstrated with +her for wearing his best overcoat when she went to milk, she fell +a-weeping and declared she wasn't going to be put on. Mr. Shaw said the +same thing about his coat, and it led to unpleasantness. The next day +he found her picking chips in his brown derby, and when he expressed +his disapproval she told him it was no fit hat for a young man like +him--he should have a topper. Mr. Shaw decided that he would try to do +without her. + +Before that he had had a red-cheeked Irishwoman, who cooked so well, +scrubbed so industriously, that he had thought his troubles were all +over. But one day she went to Millford, and came home in a state of +wild exhilaration, with more of the same in a large black bottle. When +Mr. Shaw came to put away the horse, she struck him over the head with +her handbag, playfully blackening one of his eyes, and then begged him +to come and make up--"kiss and forgit, like the swate pet that he was." + +Exit Mrs. Murphy. + +George Shaw decided to do his own cooking, but in three days every dish +in the house was dirty; the teapot was full of leaves, the stove full +of ashes, and the floor was slippery. + +George Shaw's farm lay parallel with the Souris River in that fertile +region which lies between the Brandon and the Tiger Hills. His fields +ran an unbroken mile, facing the Tiger Hills, blue with mist. He was a +successful young farmer, and he should have been a happy man without a +care in the world, but he did not look it as he sat wearily by his red +stove, with the deep furrows of care on his young face. + +The busy time was coming on; he needed another man, and he did hate +trying to do the cooking himself. + +As a last hope he decided to advertise. He hunted up his writing-pad +and wrote hastily: + +"Housekeeper wanted by a farmer; must be sober and steady. Good wages +to the right person. Apply to George Shaw, Millford, Man." + +He read it over reflectively. "There ought to be someone for me," he +said. "I am not hard to please. Any good, steady old lady who will give +me a bite to eat, not swear at me or wear my clothes or drink while on +duty will answer my purpose." + +Two days after his advertisement had appeared in the Brandon _Times_, +"she" arrived. + +Shaw saw a smart-looking woman gaily tripping along the road, and his +heart failed. + +As she drew near, however, he was relieved to find that her hair was +snowy white. + +"Good evening, Mr. Shaw!" she called to him as soon as she was within +speaking distance. + +"Good evening, madam," he replied, lifting his hat. + +"I just asked along the road until I found you," she said, untying her +bonnet strings; "I knew this lonesome little house must be the place. +No trees, no flowers, no curtains, no washing on the line--I could tell +there was no woman around." She was fixing her hair at his little glass +as she spoke. "Now, son, run out and get a few chips for the fire, and +we'll have a bite of supper in a few minutes." + +Shaw brought the chips. + +"Now, what do you say to pancakes for supper?" + +Shaw declared that nothing would suit him so well as pancakes. + +The fire crackled merrily under the kettle, and soon the two of them +were sitting down to an appetizing meal of pancakes and syrup, boiled +eggs and tea. + +"Land sakes, George, you must have had your own time with those +housekeepers of yours! Some of them drank, eh? I could tell that by the +piece you put in the paper. But never mind them now; I'll soon have you +feeling fine as silk. How's your socks? Toes out, I'll bet. Well, I'll +hunt you up a pair, if there's any to be found. If I can't find any you +can go to bed when you get your chores done, and I'll wash out them +you've on--I can't bear my men folks to have their toes out; a hole in +the heel ain't so bad, it's behind you and you can forget it, but a +hole in the toe is always in your way no matter which way you're +going." + +After supper, when Shaw was out doing his chores, he could see her +bustling in and out of the house; now she was beating his bedclothes on +the line; in another minute she was leaning far out of a bedroom window +dusting a pillow. + +When he came into the house she reported that her search for stockings, +though vigorous, had been vain. He protested a little about having to +go to bed when the sun was shining, but she insisted. + +"I'm sorry, George," she said, "to have to make you go to bed, but it's +the only thing we can do. You'll find your bed feels a lot better since +I took the horse collar and the pair of rubber boots out from under the +mattress. That's a poor place to keep things. Good-night now--don't +read lying down." + +When he went upstairs Shaw noticed with dismay that his lamp had gone +from the box beside his bed. So he was not likely to disobey her last +injunction--at least, not for any length of time. + +Just at daylight the next morning there came a knock at his door. + +"Come, George--time to get up!" + +When he came in from feeding his horses a splendid breakfast was on the +table. + +"Here's your basin, George; go out and have a good wash. Here's your +comb; it's been lost for quite awhile. I put a towel out there for you, +too. Hurry up now and get your vittles while they are nice!" + +When Shaw came to the table she regarded him with pleasure. + +"You're a fine-looking boy, George, when you're slicked up," she said. +"Now bow your head until we say grace! There, now pitch in and tell me +how you like grandma's cooking." + +Shaw ate heartily and praised everything. + +A few days afterwards she said, "Now, George, I guess I'll have to ask +you to go to town and get some things we need for the house." + +Shaw readily agreed, and took out his paper and pencil. + +"Soap, starch, ten yards of cheesecloth--that's for curtains," she +said. "I'll knit lace for them, and they'll look real dressy; toilet +soap, sponge and nailbrush--that's for your bath, George; you haven't +been taking them as often as you should, or the hoops wouldn't have +come off your tub. You can't cheat Nature, George; she always tells on +you. Ten yards flannelette--that's for night-shirts; ten yards +sheeting--that's for your bed--and your white shirts are pretty far +gone." + +"How do you know?" he asked in surprise; "they are all in my trunk." + +"Yes, I know, and the key is in that old cup on the stand, and I know +how to unlock a trunk, don't I?" she replied with dignity. "You need +new shirts all right, but just get one. I never could abear them +boughten shirts, they are so skimpy in the skirt; I'll make you some +lovely ones, with blue and pink flossin' down the front." + +He looked up alarmed. + +"Then about collars," she went on serenely. "You have three, but +they're not in very good shape, though, of course, you couldn't expect +anything better of them, kept in that box with the nails--oh, I found +them, George, you needn't look so surprised. You see I know something +about boys--I have three of my own." A shadow passed over her face and +she sighed. "Well, I guess that is all for to-day. Be sure to get your +mail and hurry home." + +"Shall I tell the postmaster to put your mail in my box?" he asked. + +"Oh, no, never mind--I ain't expectin' any," she said, and Shaw drove +away wondering. + +A few nights after she said, "Well, George, I suppose you are wonderin' +now who this old lady is, though I am not to say real old either." + +"Indeed you are not old," Shaw declared with considerable gallantry; +"you are just in your prime." + +She regarded him gratefully. "You're a real nice boy, George," she +said, "and there ain't going to be no secrets between us. If you wet +your feet, or tear your clothes, don't try to hide it. Don't keep +nothing from me and I won't keep nothing from you. Now I'll tell you +who I am and all about it. I am Mrs. Peter Harris, of Owen Sound, +Ontario, and I have three sons here in the West. They've all done well, +fur as money goes. I came up to visit them. I came from Bert's here. I +couldn't stand the way Bert's folks live. Mind you, they burn their +lights all night, and they told me it doesn't cost a cent more. Land o' +liberty! They can't fool me. If lights burn, someone pays--and the +amount of hired help they keep is something scandalous. Et, that is +Bert's wife, is real smart, and they have two hired girls, besides +their own two girls, and they get in a woman to wash besides. I wanted +them to let the two girls go while I was there, but no, sir! Et says, +'Grandma, you didn't come here to work, you must just rest.' They +wouldn't let me do a thing, and that brazen hired girl--the housemaid, +they call her--one day even made my bed; and, mind you, George, she put +the narrow hem on the sheet to the top, and she wasn't a bit ashamed +when I told her. She said she hoped it didn't make me feel that I was +standin' on my head all night; and the way that woman hung out the +clothes was a perfect scandal!" Her voice fell to an awed whisper. "She +hangs the underwear in plain sight. I ain't never been used to the like +of that! I could not stay. Bert is kind enough, so is Et, and they have +one girl, Maud, that I really do like. She is twenty-one, but, of +course, brought up the way she has been, she is awful ignorant for that +age. Mind you, that girl had never turned the heel of a stocking until +I got her at it, but Maud can learn. I'd take that girl quick, and +bring her up like my own, if Bert would let me. Well, anyway, I could +not put up with the way they live, and I just ran away." + +"You ran away!" echoed Shaw. "They'll be looking for you!" + +"Let 'em look!" said the old lady, grimly. "They won't ever find me +here." + +"I'll hide you in the haymow, and if they come in here to search for +you I'll declare I never knew you--I am prepared to do desperate +things," Shaw declared. + +"George, if they ever get in here--that is, Et anyway--she'll know who +did the fixin' up. There ain't many that know how to do this Rocky Road +to Dublin that is on your lounge. Et would know who'd been here." + +"That settles it!" declared Shaw. "Et shall not enter. If Et gets in it +shall be over my prostrate form, but maybe it would be better for you +to take the Rocky Road with you to the hayloft!" + +The old lady laughed heartily. "Ain't we happy, George, you and me? +I've tried all my own, and they won't let me have one bit of my own +way. Out at Edward's--he's a lawyer at Regina--I tried to get them all +to go to bed at half-past ten--late enough, too, for decent people--and +didn't Edward's wife get real miffed over it? And then I went to Tom's +--he's a doctor down at Winnipeg, but he's all gone to politics; he was +out night after night makin' speeches, and he had a young fellow +lookin' after his practice who wouldn't know a corn from a gumboil only +they grow in different places. Tom's pa and me spent good money on his +education, and it's hard for us to see him makin' no use of it. He was +nice enough to me, wanted me to stay and be company for Edith, but I +told him he should try to be company for Edith himself. Well, he didn't +get elected--that's one comfort. I believe it was an answer to prayer. +Maybe he'll settle down to his doctorin' now. Then I went to Bert's, +and I soon saw I could not stay there. Just as soon as I saw your +little bit in the paper, I says, 'The Lord has opened a door!' I gave +Maud a hint that I would clear out some day and go where I would be let +work, and the dear child says to me, 'Grandma, if I ever get a house of +my own you can come and live with me, and you can do every bit of the +work, and everyone will have to do just what you say; they'll have to +go to bed at sundown if you say so.' Maud's the best one I have +belongin' to me. She'll give them a hint that I'm all right." + +But Shaw was apprehensive. He knew who Bert was, and he had +uncomfortable visions of Mr. Albert Harris driving up to his door some +day and demanding that Mrs. Peter Harris, his mother, immediately come +home with him; and the fear and dread of former housekeepers swept over +George Shaw's soul. No, he would not give her up! Of course, there were +times when he thought she was rather exacting, and when he felt some +sympathy for Edward's wife forgetting "miffed." + +When she was with him about a week she announced that he must have a +daily bath! "It is easier to wash you than the bed-clothes, that's one +reason," she said, "and it's good for you besides. That's what's wrong +with lots of young boys; they git careless and dirty, and then they +take to smoking and drinking just natcherally. A clean hide, mind you, +is next to a clean heart. Now go along upstairs; everything is ready +for you." + +Henceforth there was no danger of the hoops falling off the tub, for it +was in daily use, and, indeed, it was not many nights until George Shaw +looked forward with pleasure to his nightly wash. + +The old lady's face glowed with pleasure as she went about her work, or +sat sewing in the shade of the house. At her instigation Shaw had put +up a shed for his machinery, which formerly had littered the yard, and +put his wood in even piles. + +The ground fell away in a steep ravine, just in front of the house, and +pink wild roses and columbine hung in profusion over the spring which +gushed out of the bank. Away to the east were the sand-hills of the +Assiniboine--the bad lands of the prairie, their surface peopled with +stiff spruce trees that stand like sentries looking, always looking out +across the plain! + +Mrs. Harris often sat with her work in the shade of the house, on +pleasant afternoons, looking at this peaceful scene, and her heart was +full of gladness and content. + +The summer passed pleasantly for George Shaw and his cheery old +housekeeper. Not a word did they hear from "Bert's" folks. + +"I would like to see Maud," Mrs. Harris said one night to Shaw as she +sat knitting a sock for him beside their cheerful fireside. He was +reading. + +"What is Maud like?" he asked. + +"Maud favors my side of the house," she answered. "She's a pretty good- +looking girl, very much the hi'th and complexion I used to be when I +was her age. You'd like Maud fine if you saw her, George." + +"I don't want to see her," Shaw replied, "for I am afraid that the +coming of Maud might mean the departure of Grandma, and that would be a +bad day for me." + +"I ain't goin' to leave you, George, and I believe Maud would be +reasonable if she did come! She'd see how happy we are!" + +It was in the early autumn that Maud came. The grain had all been cut +and stacked, and was waiting for the thresher to come on its rounds. +Shaw was ploughing in the field in front of his house when Maud came +walking briskly up the road just as her grandmother had done four +months before! The trees in the poplar grove beside the road were +turning red and yellow with autumn, and Maud, in her red-brown suit and +hat, looked as if she belonged to the picture. + +Some such thought as this struggled in Shaw's brain and shone in his +eyes as he waited for her at the headland. + +He raised his hat as she drew near. Maud went right into the subject. + +"Have you my grandmother?" she asked. + +Shaw hesitated--the dreaded moment had come. Visions of former +housekeepers--dirty dishes, unmade bed, dust, flies, mice--rose before +him and tempted him to say "no," but something stronger and better, +perhaps it was the "clean hide" prompting the clean heart, spoke up in +him. + +"I have your grandmother," he said slowly, "and she is very well and +happy." + +"Will you give her up?" was Maud's next question. + +"Never!" he answered stoutly; "and she won't give me up, either. Your +grandmother and I are very fond of each other, I would like you to +know--but come in and see her." + +That night after supper, which proved to be a very merry meal in spite +of the shadow which had fallen across the little home, Mrs. Harris said +almost tearfully: "I can't leave this pore lamb, Maud--there's no +knowin' what will happen to him." + +"I will go straight back to the blanket and dog soup," Shaw declared +with cheerful conviction. "You can't imagine the state things were in +when your grandmother came--bed not made since Christmas, horsenails +for buttons, comb and brush lost but not missed, wash basin rusty! Your +grandmother, of course, has been severe with me--she makes me go to bed +before sundown. Yet I refuse to part with her. Who takes your +grandmother takes me; and now, Miss Maud, it is your move!" + +That night when they sat in the small sitting-room with a bright fire +burning in the shining stove, Maud felt her claim on her grandmother +growing more and more shadowy. Mrs. Harris was in a radiant humor. She +was knitting lace for the curtains, and chatted gaily as she worked. + +"You see, Maud, I am never lonely here; it's a real heartsome place to +live. There's the trains goin' by twice a day, and George here is a +real good hand to read out to me. We're not near done with the book +we're reading, and I am anxious to see if Adam got the girl. He was set +on havin' her, but some of her folks were in for makin' trouble." + +"Folks sometimes do!" said Shaw, meaningly. + +"Well, I can't go until we finish the book," the old lady declared, +"and we see how the story comes out, and I don't believe Maud is the +one to ask it." + +Maud made a pretty picture as she sat with one shapely foot on the +fender of the stove, the firelight dancing on her face and hair. Shaw, +looking at her, forgot the errand on which she came--forgot everything +only that she was there. + +"Light the lamp and read a bit of the book now," Mrs. Harris said. +"Maud'll like it, I know. She's the greatest girl for books!" + +Shaw began to read. It was "The Kentucky Cardinal" he read, that +exquisite love-story, that makes us lovers all, even if we never have +been, or worse still, have forgotten. Shaw loved the book, and read it +tenderly, and Maud, leaning back in her chair, found her heart warmed +with a sudden great content. + +A week later Shaw and Maud walked along the river bank and discussed +the situation. Autumn leaves carpeted the ground beneath their feet, +and the faint murmur of the river below as it slipped over its pebbly +bed came faintly to their ears. In the sky above them, wild geese with +flashing white wings honked away toward the south, and a meadow lark, +that jolly fellow who comes early and stays late, on a red-leafed +haw-tree poured out his little heart in melody. + +"You see, Mr. Shaw," Maud was saying, "it doesn't look right for +Grandma to be living with a stranger when she has so many of her own +people. I know she is happy with you--happier than she has been with +any of us--but what will people think? It looks as if we didn't care +for her, and we do. She is the sweetest old lady in the world." Maud +was very much in earnest. + +Shaw's eyes followed the wild geese until they faded into tiny specks +on the horizon. Then he turned and looked straight into her face. + +"Maud," he said, with a strange vibration in his voice, "I know a way +out of the difficulty; a real good, pleasant way, and by it your +grandmother can continue to live with me, and still be with her own +folks. Maud, can you guess it?" + +The blush that spread over Maud's face indicated that she was a good +guesser! + +Then the meadow-lark, all unnoticed, hopped a little nearer, and sang +sweeter than ever. Not that anybody was listening, either! + + + + +THE RETURN TICKET + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Canadian Ladies' Home Journal_.) + +In the station at Emerson, the boundary town, we were waiting for the +Soo train, which comes at an early hour in the morning. It was a +bitterly cold, dark, winter morning; the wires overhead sang dismally +in the wind, and even the cheer of the big coal fire that glowed in the +rusty stove was dampened by the incessant mourning of the storm. + +Along the walls, on the benches, sat the trackmen, in their sheepskin +coats and fur caps, with earlaps tied tightly down. They were tired and +sleepy, and sat in every conceivable attitude expressive of sleepiness +and fatigue. A red lantern, like an evil eye, gleamed from one dark +corner; in the middle of the floor were several green lamps turned low, +and over against the wall hung one barred lantern whose bright little +gleam of light reminded one uncomfortably of a small, live mouse in a +cage, caught and doomed, but undaunted still. The telegraph instruments +clicked at intervals. Two men, wrapped in overcoats, stood beside the +stove and talked in low tones about the way real estate was increasing +in value in Winnipeg. + +The door opened and a big fellow, another snow shoveller, came in +hurriedly, letting in a burst of flying snow that sizzled on the hot +stove. It did not rouse the sleepers from the bench; neither did the +new-comer's remark that it was a "deuce of a night" bring forth any +argument--we were one on that point. + +The train was late; the night agent told us that when he came out to +shovel in more coal--"she" was delayed by the storm. + +I leaned back and tried to be comfortable. After all, I thought, it +might easily be worse. I was going home after a pleasant visit. I had +many agreeable things to think of, and still I kept thinking to myself +that it was not a cheerful night. The clock, of course, indicated that +it was morning, but the deep black that looked in through the frosted +windows, the heavy shadows in the room, which the flickering lanterns +only seemed to emphasize, were all of the night, and bore no relation +to the morning. + +The train came at last with a roar that drowned the voice of the storm. +The sleepers on the bench sprang up like one man, seized their +lanterns, and we all rushed out together. The long coach that I entered +was filled with tired, sleepy-looking people, who had been sitting up +all night. They were curled up uncomfortably, making a brave attempt to +rest, all except one little old lady, who sat upright, looking out into +the black night. When the official came to ask the passengers where +they were going, I heard her tell him that she was a Canadian, and she +had been "down in the States with Annie, and now she was bringing Annie +home," and as she said this she pointed significantly ahead to the +baggage car. + +There was something about the old lady that appealed to me. I went over +to her when the official had gone out. No, she wasn't tired, she said; +she "had been up a good many nights, and been worried some, but the +night before last she had had a real good sleep." + +She was quite willing to talk; the long black night had made her glad +of companionship. + +"I took Annie to Rochester, down in Minnesota, to see the doctors +there--the Mayos--did you ever hear of the Mayos? Well, Dr. Smale, at +Rose Valley, said they were her only hope. Annie had been ailing for +years, and Dr. Smale had done all he could for her. Dr. Moore, our old +doctor, wouldn't hear of it; he said an operation would kill her, but +Annie was set on going. I heard Annie say to him that she'd rather die +than live sick, and she would go to Rochester. Dave Johnston--Annie's +man, that is--he drinks, you know--" + +The old lady's voice fell and her tired old face seemed to take on +deeper lines of trouble as she sat silent with her own sad thoughts. I +expressed my sorrow. + +"Yes, Annie had her own troubles, poor girl," she said at last; "and +she was a good girl, Annie was, and she deserved something better. She +was a tender-hearted girl, and gentle and quiet, and never talked back +to anyone, to Dave least of all, for she worshipped the very ground he +walked on, and married him against all our wishes. She thought she +could reform him!" + +She said it sadly, but without bitterness. + +"Was he good to her?" I asked. People draw near together in the stormy +dark of a winter's morning, and the thought of Annie in her narrow box +ahead robbed my question of any rudeness. + +"He was good to her in his own way," Annie's mother said, trying to be +quite just, "but it was a rough way. She had a fine, big, brick house +to live in--it was a grand house, but it was a lonely house. He often +went away and stayed for weeks, and her not knowing where he was or how +he would come home. He worried her always. The doctor said that was +part of her trouble--he worried her too much." + +"Did he ever try to stop drinking?" I asked. I wanted to think better +of him if I could. + +"Yes, he did; he was sober once for nearly a year, and Annie's health +was better than it had been for years, but the crowd around the hotel +there in Rose Valley got after him every chance, and one Christmas Day +they got him going again. Annie never could bear to mention about him +drinkin' to anyone, not even me--it would ha' been easier on her if she +could ha' talked about it, but she wasn't one of the talkin' kind." + +We sat in silence, listening to the pounding of the rails. + +"Everybody was kind to her in Rochester," she said, after a while. +"When we were sitting there waitin' our turn--you know how the sick +people wait there in two long rows, waitin' to be taken in to the +consultin' room, don't you? Well, when we were sittin' there Annie was +sufferin' pretty bad, and we were still a long way from the top of the +line. Dr. Judd was takin' them off as fast as he could, and the +ambulances were drivin' off every few minutes, takin' them away to the +hospital after the doctors had decided what was wrong with them. Some +of them didn't need to go to the hospital at all--they're the best off, +I think. We got talkin' to the people around us--they are there from +all over the country, with all kinds of diseases, poor people. Well, +there was a man from Kansas City who had been waitin' a week, but had +got up now second to the end, and I noticed him lookin' at Annie. I was +fannin' her and tryin' to keep her cheered up. Her face was a bad color +from the pain she was in, and what did this man do but git up and come +down to us and tell Annie that she could have his place. He said he +wasn't in very bad pain now, and he would take her place. He made very +little of it, but it meant a lot to us, and to him, too, poor fellow. +Annie didn't want to do it, but he insisted. Sick folks know how to be +kind to sick folks, I tell you." + +The dawn began to show blue behind the frost ferns on the window and +the lamps overhead looked pale and sickly in the grey light. + +"Annie had her operation on Monday," she went on after a long pause. +"She was lookin' every day for a letter from Dave, and when the doctor +told her they would operate on her on Monday morning early, she asked +him if he would mind putting it off until noon. She thought there would +be a letter from Dave, for sure, on that morning's mail. The doctor was +very kind to her--they understand a lot, them Mayos--and he did put it +off. In the ward with Annie there was a little woman from Saskatchewan, +that was a very bad case. She talked to us a lot about her man and her +four children. She had a real good man by what she said. They were on a +homestead near Quill Lake, and she was so sure she'd get well. The +doctor was very hopeful of Annie, and said she had nine chances out of +ten of getting better, but this little woman's was a worse case. Dr. +Will Mayo told her she had just one chance in ten---but, dear me, she +was a brave woman; she spoke right up quick, and says she, 'That's all +I want; I'll get well if I've only half a chance. I've got to; Jim and +the children can't do without me.' Jim was her man. When they came to +take her out into the operating room they couldn't give her ether, some +way. She grabbed the doctor's hand, and says she, kind of chokin' up, +all at once, 'You'll do your best for Jim's sake, won't you?' and he +says, says he, 'My dear woman, I'll do my best for your sake.' Busy and +all as they are, they're the kindest men in the world, and just before +they began to operate the nurse brought her a letter from Jim and read +it to her, and she held it in her hand through it all, and when they +wheeled her back into the ward after the operation, it was still in her +hand, though she had fainted dead away." + +"Did Annie get her letter?" I asked her. + +My companion did not answer at once, but I knew very well that the +letter had not come. + +"She didn't ask for it at the last; she just looked at me before they +put the gauze thing over her face. I knew what she meant. I had been +down to see if it had come, and they told me all the mails were in for +the day from the West. She just looked at me so pitiful, but it was +like Annie not to ask. A letter from Dave would have comforted her so, +but it didn't come, though I wired him two days before telling him when +the operation would be. Annie was wonderful cheerful and calm, but I +was trembling like a leaf when they were givin' her the ether, and when +they wheeled her out all so stiff and white I just seemed to feel I'd +lost my girl." + +I took the old lady's hand and tried to whisper words of comfort. She +returned the pressure of my hand; her eyes were tearless, and her voice +did not even waver, but the thought of poor Annie going into the valley +unassured by any loving word gave free passage to my tears. + +"Did Dave write or wire?" I asked when I could speak. + +"No, not a word; he's likely off on a spree." The old lady spoke +bitterly now. "Everybody was kind to my Annie but him, and it was a +word from him that would have cheered her the most. Dr. Mayo came and +sat beside her just an hour before she died, and says he, 'You still +have a chance, Mrs. Johnston,' but Annie just thanked him again for his +kindness and sort o' shook her head..... + +"The little woman from Saskatchewan didn't do well at all after the +operation, and Dr. Mayo was afraid she wouldn't pull through. She asked +him what chance she had, and he told her straight--the Mayos always +tell the truth--that she had only one chance in a hundred. She was so +weak that he had to bend down to hear her whisperin', 'I'll take that +one chance!'" + +"And did she?" I asked eagerly. + +"She was still living when I left. She will get better, I think. She +has a very good man, by what she was tellin' us, and a woman can stand +a lot if she has a good man," the old lady said, with the wisdom born +of experience. "I've nursed around a lot, and I've always noticed +that!" + +I have noticed it, too, though I've never "nursed around." + +"Dave came with us to the station the day we left home. He was sober +that day, and gave Annie plenty of money. Annie told him to get a +return ticket for her, too. I said he'd better get just a single for +her, for she might have to stay longer than a month; but she said no, +she'd be back in a month, all right. Dave seemed pleased to hear her +talk so cheerful. When she got her ticket she sat lookin' at it a long +time. I knew what she was thinkin'. She never was a girl to talk +mournful, and when the conductor tore off the goin' down part she gave +me the return piece, and she says, 'You take this, mother.' I knew that +she was thinkin' what the return half might be used for." + +We changed cars at Newton, and I stood with the old lady and watched +the trainmen unload the long box. They threw off trunks, boxes and +valises almost viciously, but when they lifted up the long box their +manner changed and they laid it down as tenderly as if they had known +something of Annie and her troubled life. + +We sent another telegram to Dave, and then sat down in the waiting-room +to wait for the west train. The wind drove the snow in billows over the +prairie, and the early twilight of the morning was bitterly cold. + +Her train came first, and again the long box was gently put aboard. On +the wind-swept platform Annie's mother and I shook hands without a +word, and in another minute the long train was sweeping swiftly across +the white prairie. I watched it idly, thinking of Annie and her sad +home-going. Just then the first pale beams of the morning sun glinted +on the last coach, and touched with fine gold the long white smoke +plume, which the wind carried far over the field. There is nothing so +cheerful as the sunshine, and as I sat in the little grey waiting-room, +watching the narrow golden beam that danced over the closed wicket, I +could well believe that a rest remains for Annie, and that she is sure +of a welcome at her journey's end. And as the sun's warmth began to +thaw the tracery of frost on the window, I began to hope that God's +grace may yet find out Dave, and that he too may "make good" in the +years to come. As for the little woman from Quill Lake, who was still +willing to take the one chance, I have never had the slightest doubt. + + + + +THE UNGRATEFUL PIGEONS + +Philip was a little boy, with a generous growth of freckles, and a +loving heart. Most people saw only the freckles, but his mother never +lost sight of his affectionate nature. So when, one warm spring day, he +sat moodily around the house, she was ready to listen to his grievance. + +"I want something for a pet," said Philip. "I have no dog or cat or +anything!" + +"What would you like the very best of all?" his mother asked, with the +air of a fairy godmother. + +"I want pigeons! They are so pretty and white and soft, and they lay +eggs and hatch young ones." + +All his gloom had vanished! + +"How much a pair?" asked his mother. + +"Twenty-five cents out at Crane's. They have millions of them; I can +walk out--it's only five miles." + +"Where will we put them when you bring them home?" she asked. + +Philip thought they could share his room, but this suggestion was +promptly rejected! + +Then Philip's father was hurriedly interviewed by Philip's mother, and +he agreed to nail a box on the end of the stable, far beyond the reach +of prowling cats, and Philip, armed with twenty-five cents, set forth +gaily on his five-mile walk. It was Saturday morning, and a beautiful +day of glittering April sunshine. The sun was nearly down when Philip +returned, tired but happy. It seemed there had been some trouble in +catching them. The quoted price of twenty-five cents a pair was for +raw, uncaught pigeons, but Philip had succeeded at last and brought +back two beauties, one with blue markings, and the other one almost +white. + +The path of true love never ran smooth; difficulties were encountered +at once. Philip put a generous supply of straw in one end of the box +for a bed, but when he put them in they turned round and round as if +they were not quite satisfied with their lodgings. Then Philip had one +of those dazzling ideas which so often led to trouble with the other +members of his family. He made a hurried visit to Rose's--his sister's +--room. Rose was a grown-up lady of twelve. + +When he came back, he brought with him a dove-grey chiffon auto veil, +the kind that was much favored that spring by young ladies in Rose's +set, for a head protection instead of hats. + +Rose's intimate friend, Hattie Matthews, had that very day put a knot +in each side, which made it fit very artistically on Rose's head. +Philip carefully untied the knots, and draped it over the straw. The +effect was beautiful. Philip exclaimed with delight! They looked so +pretty and "woozy"! + +In the innocence of his heart, he ran into the house, for Rose; he +wanted her to rejoice with him. + +Rose's language was pointed, though dignified, and the pretty sight was +ruthlessly broken up. Philip's mother, however, stepped into the gap, +and produced an old, pale blue veil of her own, which was equally +becoming. + +It was she, too, who proposed a pigeon book, and a very pleasant time +was spent making it,--for it was not a common book, bought with money, +but one made by loving hands. Several sheets of linen notepaper were +used for the inside, with stiff yellow paper for the cover, the whole +fastened with pale blue silk. Then Philip printed on the cover: + +Philip Brown, +Pigeon Book, + +but not in any ordinary, plain, little bits of letters! Each capital +was topped off with an arrow, and ended with a feather, and even the +small letters had a thick blanket of dots. + +The first entry was as follows: + +April 7th.--_I wocked out to Crane's, and got 2 fantales. they are hard +to ketch. I payed 25 scents. My father knailed a box on the stable, and +I put in a bed of straw, they are bootiful. my sister would not let me +have her vale, but I got one prettier. they look woozy_. + +The next day, Sunday, Philip did not see how he could go to church or +Sunday-school--he had not time, he said, but his mother agreed to watch +the pigeons, and so his religious obligations did not need to be set +aside. + +Monday afternoon the Browns' back yard was full of little boys +inspecting Philip's pigeons, not merely idle onlookers, but hard-headed +poultry fanciers, as shown by the following entry: + +April 9th.--_I sold a pare of white ones to-day to Wilfred Garbett, to +be kept three weeks after birth, Eva Gayton wants a pare too any color, +in July. She paid for them_. + +Under this entry, which was made laboriously in ink, there was another +one, in lead pencil, done by Philip's brother, Jack: + +_This is called selling Pigeons short_. + +Philip's friends recommended many and varied things for the pigeons to +eat, and he did his best to supply them all, as far as his slender +means allowed; he went to the elevator for wheat; he traded his good +jack-knife for two mouse-eaten and anaemic heads of squaw-corn, which +were highly recommended by an unscrupulous young Shylock, who had just +come to town and was short of a jack-knife. His handkerchief, +scribblers and pencils mysteriously disappeared, but other articles +came in their place: a small round mirror advertising corsets on the +back (Gordon Smith said pigeons liked a looking-glass--it made them +more contented to stay at home); a small swing out of a birdcage, which +was duly put in place (vendor Miss Edie Beal, owner unknown). Of +course, it was too small for pigeons, but there were going to be little +ones very soon, weren't there? + +He also brought to them one day five sunflower seeds, recommended and +sold by a mild-eyed little Murphy girl, who had the stubby fingers of a +money-maker. Philip, being very low in funds that day, wanted her to +accept prospective eggs in payment, but the stubby-fingered Miss Murphy +preferred currency! Philip decided to make no entry of these +transactions in his Pigeon Book. + +His young brother, Barrie, began to be troublesome about this time, and +to evince an unwholesome interest in the pigeons. The ladder, which was +placed against the stable under their house, at first seemed to him too +high to climb, but seeing the multitude of delighted spectators who +went up and down without accident, he resolved to try it, too, and so +successfully that he was able after a few attempts to carry a stick +with him, stand on the highest rung, and poke up the pigeons. + +One day he was caught--with the goods--by Philip himself. So indignant +was Philip that for a moment he stood speechless. His young brother, +jarred by a guilty conscience and fear of Philip, came hastily down the +ladder, raising a few bruises on his anatomy as he came. Even in his +infant soul he felt he deserved all he had got, and thought best not to +mention the occurrence. Philip, too, generously kept quiet about it, +feeling that the claims of justice had been met. The only dissatisfied +parties in the transaction were the pigeons. + +The next Sunday in Sabbath School there was a temperance lesson, and +Barrie Brown quoted the Golden Text with a slight variation--"At the +last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like a _ladder_!" + +Philip was the only one who knew what he meant, and he said it served +him good and right. + +The following entry appears in the Pigeon Book: + +_My brother Barrie poks them, but he got his leson. tomoro I'll let +them out--there fond enough of home now I gess_. + +The next day being Saturday, when Philip could watch them, he let them +out. All day long his heart was torn with pride and fear--they looked +so beautiful, circling and wheeling over the stable and far away across +the road, and yet his heart was chill with the fear that they would +never return. + +That night the Pigeon Book received the following entry: + +April 21st.--_I let them out and, they came back--they are sweet pets. +I dreem about them every night I have two dreems, my good dreem is +the've layd my bad dreem is about tomcats and two little heaps of +fethers its horrid_. + +The next week another entry went into the book: + +_I sold another pare to-day I've raised the price this pare is to be +delivered in Ogist. I gave them a bran mash to-day, it makes them lay +sure._ + +Under this Jack wrote: + +_Thinking of the August delivery_. + +The next entry was this: + +May 1st.--_Wilfred G. is pritty meen, he thinks he knows it all. they +aint goin to lay all in a hurry._ + +There seemed to be no doubt about this. They certainly were not. In +spite of bran mashes, pepper, cotton batting, blue veil and tender +care, they refused to even consider the question of laying. + +Philip was quite satisfied with them as they were, if they would only +stay with him, but the customers who had bought and paid for highly +recommended young fowl were inclined to be impatient and even +unpleasant when the two parent birds were to be seen gadding around the +street at all hours of the day, utterly regardless of their young +master's promises. + +Philip learned to call them. His "cutacutacoo--cutacutacoo" could be +heard up and down the street. Sometimes they seemed to pay a little +attention to him, and then his joy was full. More often they seemed to +say, "Cutacutacoo yourself!" or some such saucy word, and fly farther +away. + +One night they did not come home. Philip's most insistent "cutacutacoo" +brought no response. He hired boys to help him to look for them, +beggaring himself of allies and marbles, even giving away his Lucky +Shooter, a mottled pee-wee, to a lynx-eyed young hunter who claimed to +be able to see in the dark. He even dared the town constable by staying +out long after the curfew had rung, looking and asking. No one had seen +them. + +Through the night it rained, a cold, cruel rain--or so it seemed to the +sad-hearted, wide-awake little boy. He stole out quietly, afraid that +he might be sent back to bed, but only his mother heard him, and she +understood. It was lonesome and dark outside, but love lighted his way. +He groped his way up the ladder, hoping to find them, but though the +straw, the cotton batting, the blue veil, the water-dish were all in +place--there were no pigeons! + +Philip came back to bed, cold and wet in body, but his heart colder +still with fear, and his face wetter with tears. Under cover of the +night a boy of ten can cry all he wants to. + +His mother, who heard him going out and who understood, called softly +to him to come to her room, and then sympathized. She said they were +safe enough, never fear, with some flock of pigeons; they had got +lonesome, that was all; they would come back when they got hungry, and +the rain would not hurt them, and be sure to wipe his feet! + +The next day they were found across the street with Jerry Andrews' +pigeons, as unconcerned as you please. Philip parted with his Lost Heir +game--about the only thing he had left--to get Jerry to help him to +catch them when they were roosting. He shut them up for a few days and +worked harder than ever, if that were possible, to try to please them. + +The Pigeon Book would have been neglected only for his mother, who said +it was only right to put in the bad as well as the good. That was the +way with all stories. Philip made this entry: + +_They went away and staid and had to be brot back by force I guess they +were lonesome. I don't know why they don't like me--I like them_! + +When his mother read that she said, "Poor little fellow," and made +pancakes for tea. + +In a few days he let them out again, and watched them with a pale face. + +They did not hesitate a minute, but flew straight away down the street +to the place they had been before, to the place where the people often +made pies of pigeons and were not ashamed to tell it! + +Philip followed them silently, not having the heart to call. + +"Say, Phil," the boy of the pigeon loft called--he was a stout boy who +made money out of everything--"I guess they ain't goin' to stay with +you. You might as well sell out to me. I'll give you ten cents for the +pair. I'm goin' to sell a bunch to the hotel on Saturday." + +An insane desire to fight him took hold of Philip. He turned away +without speaking. + +At school that day he approached the pigeon boy and made the +proposition that filled the boy with astonishment: "I'll give them to +you, Jerry," he said, hurriedly, "if you promise not to kill them. It's +all right! I guess I won't bother with pigeons--I think I'll get a dog +--or something," he ended lamely. + +Jerry was surprised, but being a business man he closed the deal on the +spot. When Philip went home he put his pigeon book away. + +There was a final entry, slightly smeared and very badly written: + +_They are ungrateful broots_! + + + +YOU NEVER CAN TELL + +(Reprinted by permission of _Saturday Night_, Toronto.) + +It was at exactly half-past three in the afternoon of a hot June day +that Mrs. Theodore Banks became smitten with the idea. Mrs. Banks often +said afterwards she did not know how she came to be thinking about the +Convention of the Arts and Crafts at all, although she is the +Secretary. The idea was so compelling that Mrs. Banks rushed down town +to tell Mr. Banks--she felt she could not depend on the telephone. + +"Ted," she cried, when she opened the door of the office, "I have an +idea!" + +Theodore raised his eyelids. + +Mrs. Banks was flushed and excited and looked well. Mrs. Banks was a +handsome woman any time, and to-day her vivacity was quite genuine. + +"You know the Convention of the Arts and Crafts--which begins on the +twentieth." + +"I've heard of it--somewhere." + +"Well, it just came to me, Teddy, what a perfectly heavenly thing it +would be to invite that little Mrs. Dawson, who writes reviews for one +of the papers here--you remember I told you about her--she is awfully +clever and artistic and good-looking, and lives away off from every +place, and her husband is not her equal at all--perfectly illiterate, +I heard--uncultured anyway. What a perfect joy it would be to her to +have her come, and meet with people who are her equals. She's an Ottawa +girl originally, I believe, and she does write the most perfectly sweet +and darling things--you remember I've read them for you. Of course, she +is probably very shabby and out of date in her clothes by this time. +But it doesn't really matter what one wears, if one has heaps of +brains. It is only dull women, really, who have to be so terribly +careful about what they wear, and spend so much money that way!" + +"Dull women!" Theodore murmured. "Oh! is that why? I never really +knew." + +She laughed at his look of enlightened surprise. When Mrs. Banks +laughed there were three dimples plainly showing, which did not +entirely discourage her merriment. + +"And you know, Teddy, there is such a mystery about her marriage! She +will really be quite an acquisition, and we'll have her on the +programme." + +"What mystery?" Mr. Banks asked. + +"Oh, well, not mystery, maybe, but we all suppose she's not happy. How +could she be with so few of the real pleasures of life, and still she +stays with it, and actually goes places with her husband, and seems to +be keeping it up, and you know, Ted, she has either three or four +children!" + +"Is it as bad as that?" he asked, solemnly. + +"Oh, Ted! you know well enough what I mean--don't be such an owl! Just +think of how tied down and horrible it must be for her out there in +that desolate Alberta, with no neighbors at all for miles, and then +only impossible people. I should think it would drive her mad. I must +try to get her on the programme, too. She will at least be interesting, +on account of her personality. Most of our speakers are horribly prosy, +at least to me, but of course I never listen; I just look to see what +they've on and then go straight back to my own thinking. I just thought +I'd ask your advice, Teddy dear, before I asked the Committee, and so +now I'll go to see Mrs. Trenton, the President. So glad you approve, +dear! And really there will be a touch of romance in it, Ted, for Bruce +Edwards knew her when she lived in Ottawa--it was he who told me so +much about her. He simply raved about her to me--it seems he was quite +mad about her once, and probably it was a lover's quarrel or something +that drove her away to the West to forget,--and now think of her +meeting Bruce again. Isn't that a thriller?" + +"If I thought Bruce Edwards had brains enough to care for any woman I'd +say it was not right to bring her here," said Mr. Banks; "but he +hasn't." + +"Oh, of course," Mrs. Banks agreed, "he is quite over it now, no doubt. +Things like that never last, but he'll be awfully nice to her, and give +her a good time and take her around--you know what Bruce is like--he's +so romantic and cynical, and such a perfect darling in his manners-- +always ready to open a door or pick up a handkerchief!" + +"I am sure he would--if he needed the handkerchief," Theodore put in, +quietly. + +"Oh, Ted! you're a funny bunny! You've never liked Bruce--and I know +why--and it's perfectly horrid of you, just because he has always been +particularly nice to me--he really can't help being dreamy and devoted +to any woman he is with, if she is not a positive fright." + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Trenton, the President of the Arts and Crafts, received Mrs. +Banks' suggestion cautiously. Mrs. Trenton always asked, Is it right? +Is it wise? Is it expedient? It was Mrs. Trenton's extreme cautiousness +that had brought her the proud distinction of being the first President +of the Arts and Crafts, where it was considered necessary to temper the +impetuosity of the younger members; and, besides, Mrs. Trenton never +carried her doubts and fears too far. She raised all possible +objections, mentioned all possible contingencies, but in the end +allowed the younger members to carry the day, which they did, with a +clear and shriven conscience, feeling that they had been very discreet +and careful and deliberate. + +Mrs. Banks introduced her subject by telling Mrs. Trenton that she had +come to ask her advice, whereupon Mrs. Trenton laid aside the work she +was doing and signified her gracious willingness to be asked for +counsel. When Mrs. Banks had carefully laid the matter before Mrs. +Trenton, dwelling on the utter loneliness of the prairie woman's life, +Mrs. Trenton called the Vice-President, Miss Hastings, who was an oil +painter by profession, and a lady of large experience in matters of the +heart. Mrs. Trenton asked Mrs Banks to outline her plan again. + +When she had finished, Mrs. Trenton asked: "Is it wise--is it kind? She +has chosen her life. Why bring her back? It will only fill her heart +with vain repinings. This man, illiterate though he may be, is her +lawful husband--she owes him a duty. Are we just to him?" + +"Maybe she is perfectly happy," Miss Hastings said. "There is no +accounting for love and its vagaries. Perhaps to her he is clothed in +the rosy glow of romance, and all the inconveniences of her life are +forgotten. I have read of it," she added in explanation, when she +noticed Mrs. Trenton's look of incredulity. + +Mrs. Trenton sighed, a long sigh that undulated the black lace on her +capacious bosom. + +"It has been written--it will continue to be written, but to-day +marriage needs to be aided by modern--" she hesitated, and looked at +Mrs. Banks for the word. + +"Methods," Mrs. Banks supplied, promptly, "housemaids, cooks, autos, +theatres, jewelry and chocolates." + +"You put it so aptly, my dear," Mrs. Trenton smiled, as she patted her +pearl bracelet, Mr. Trenton's last offering on the hymeneal altar. "It +requires--" she paused again--Mrs. Trenton's pauses were a very +important asset in her conversation--"it requires--" + +"Collateral," said Mrs. Banks. + +Miss Hastings shook her head. + +"I believe in marriage--all the same," she said heroically. + +"Now, how shall we do it?" Mrs. Banks was anxious to get the +preliminaries over. "You have decided to invite her, of course." + +Mrs. Trenton nodded. + +"I feel we have no choice in the matter," she said slowly. "She is +certainly a woman of artistic temperament--she must be, or she would +succumb to the dreary prairie level. I have followed her career with +interest and predict great things for her--have I not, Miss Hastings? +We should not blame her if in a moment of girlish romance she turned +her back on the life which now is. We, as officers of the Arts and +Crafts, must extend our fellowship to all who are worthy. This joining +of our ranks may show her what she lost by her girlish folly, but it is +better for her to know life, and even feel regrets, than never to +know." + +"Better have a scarlet thread run through the dull gray pattern of +life, even if it makes the gray all the duller," said Miss Hastings, +who worked in oils. + +And so it came about that an invitation was sent to Mrs. James Dawson, +Auburn, Alberta, and in due time an acceptance was received. + +From the time she alighted from the Pacific Express, a slight young +woman in a very smart linen suit, she was a constant surprise to the +Arts and Crafts. The principal cause of their surprise was that she +seemed perfectly happy. There was not a shadow of regret in her clear +grey eyes, nor any trace of drooping melancholy in her quick, business- +like walk. + +Naturally the Arts and Crafts had made quite a feature of the Alberta +author and poet who would attend the Convention. Several of the +enthusiastic members, anxious to advertise effectively, had interviewed +the newspaper reporters on the subject, with the result that long +articles were published in the Woman's Section of the city dailies, +dealing principally with the loneliness of the life on an Alberta +ranch. Kate Dawson was credited with an heroic spirit that would have +made her blush had she seen the flattering allusions. Robinson Crusoe +on his lonely isle, before the advent of Friday, was not more isolated +than she on her lonely Alberta ranch, according to the advance notices. +Luckily she had not seen any of these, nor ever dreamed she was the +centre of so much attention, and so it was a very self-possessed and +unconscious young woman in a simple white gown who came before the Arts +and Crafts. + +It was the first open night of the Convention, and the auditorium was +crowded. The air was heavy with the perfume of many flowers, and pulsed +with dreamy music. Mrs. Trenton, in billows of black lace and glinting +jet, presided with her usual graciousness. She introduced Mrs. Dawson +briefly. + +Whatever the attitude of the audience was at first, they soon followed +her with eager interest as she told them, in her easy way, simple +stories of the people she knew so well and so lovingly understood. +There was no art in the telling, only a sweet naturalness and an +apparent honesty--the honesty of purpose that comes to people in lonely +places. Her stories were all of the class that magazine editors call +"homely, heart-interest stuff," not deep or clever or problematical-- +the commonplace doings of common people--but it found an entrance into +the hearts of men and women. + +They found themselves looking with her at broad sunlit spaces, where +struggling hearts work out noble destinies, without any thought of +heroism. They saw the moonlight and its drifting shadows on the wheat, +and smelled again the ripening grain at dawn. They heard the whirr of +prairie chickens' wings among the golden stubble on the hillside, and +the glamor of some old forgotten afternoon stole over them. Men and +women country-born who had forgotten the voices of their youth, heard +them calling across the years, and heard them, too, with opened hearts +and sudden tears. There was one pathetic story she told them, of the +lonely prairie woman--the woman who wished she was back, the woman to +whom the broad outlook and far horizon were terrible and full of fear. +She told them how, at night, this lonely woman drew down the blinds and +pinned them close to keep out the great white outside that stared at +her through every chink with wide, pitiless eyes--the mocking voices +that she heard behind her everywhere, day and night, whispering, +mocking, plotting; and the awful shadows, black and terrible, that +crouched behind her, just out of sight--never coming out in the open. + +It was a weird and gloomy picture, that, but she did not leave it so. +She told of the new neighbor who came to live near the lonely woman-- +the human companionship which drove the mocking voices away forever-- +the coming of the spring, when the world awoke from its white sleep and +the thousand joyous living things that came into being at the touch of +the good old sun! + +At the reception after the programme, many crowded around her, +expressing their sincere appreciation of her work. Bruce Edwards fully +enjoyed the distinction which his former acquaintance with her gave +him, and it was with quite an air of proprietorship that he introduced +to her his friends. + +Mrs. Trenton, Mrs. Banks and other members of the Arts and Crafts, at a +distance discussed her with pride. She had made their open night a +wonderful success--the papers would be full of it to-morrow. + +"You can see how fitted she is for a life of culture," said Miss +Hastings, the oil painter; "her shapely white hands were made for +silver spoons, and not for handling butter ladles. What a perfect joy +it must be for her to associate with people who are her equals!" + +"I wonder," said Mrs. Banks, "what her rancher would say if he saw his +handsome wife now. So much admiration from an old lover is not good for +the peace of mind of even a serious-minded author--and such a +fascinating man as Bruce! Look how well they look together! I wonder if +she is mentally comparing her big, sunburned cattleman with Bruce, and +thinking of what a different life she would have led if she had married +him!" + +"Do you suppose," said Mrs. Trenton, "that that was her own story that +she told us? I think she must have felt it herself to be able to tell +it so." + +Just at that moment Bruce Edwards was asking her the same question. + +"Oh, no," she answered, quickly, while an interested group drew near; +"people never write their own sorrows--the broken heart does not sing-- +that's the sadness of it. If one can talk of their sorrows they soon +cease to be. It's because I have not had any sorrows of my own that I +have seen and been able to tell of the tragedies of life." + +"Isn't she the jolly best bluffer you ever heard?" one of the men +remarked to another. "Just think of that beautiful creature, born for +admiration, living ten miles from anywhere, on an Albertan ranch of all +places, and saying she is happy. She could be a top-notcher in any +society in Canada--why, great Scott! any of us would have married that +girl, and been glad to do it!" And under the glow of this generous +declaration Mr. Stanley Carruthers lit his cigarette and watched her +with unconcealed admiration. + +As the Arts and Crafts had predicted, the newspapers gave considerable +space to their open meeting, and the Alberta author came in for a large +share of the reporters' finest spasms. It was the chance of a lifetime +--here was local color--human interest--romance--thrills! Good old +phrases, clover-scented and rosy-hued, that had lain in cold storage +for years, were brought out and used with conscious pride. + +There was one paper which boldly hinted at what it called her +"_mesalliance_," and drew a lurid picture of her domestic unhappiness, +"so bravely borne." All the gossip of the Convention was in it +intensified and exaggerated--conjectures set down as known truths--the +idle chatter of idle women crystallized in print! + +And of this paper a copy was sent by some unknown person to James +Dawson, Auburn, Alberta. + + * * * * * + +The rain was falling at Auburn, Alberta, with the dreary insistence of +unwelcome harvest rain. Just a quiet drizzle--plenty more where this +came from--no haste, no waste. It soaked the fields, keeping green the +grain which should be ripening in a clear sun. Kate Dawson had been +gone a week, and it would still be a week before she came back. Just a +week--seven days. Jim Dawson went over them in his mind as he drove the +ten miles over the rain-soaked roads to Auburn to get his daily letter. + +Every day she had written to him long letters, full of vital interest +to him. He read them over and over again. + +"Nobody really knows how well Kate can write, who has not seen her +letters to me," he thought proudly. Absence had not made him fonder of +his wife, for every day he lived was lived in devotion to her. The +marvel of it all never left him, that such a woman as Kate Marks, who +had spent her life in the city, surrounded by cultured friends, should +be contented to live the lonely life of a rancher's wife. + +He got his first disappointment when there was no letter for him. He +told himself it was some unavoidable delay in the mails--Kate had +written all right--there would be two letters for him to-morrow. Then +he noticed the paper addressed to him in a strange hand. + +He opened it eagerly. A wavy ink-line caught his eye. "Western author +delights large audience." Jim Dawson's face glowed with pride. "My +girl!" he murmured, happily. "I knew it." He wanted to be alone when he +read it, and, folding it hastily, put it in his pocket and did not look +at it again until he was on the way home. The rain still fell drearily +and spattered the page as he read. + +His heart beat fast with pride as he read the flattering words--his +girl had made good, you bet! + +Suddenly he started, almost crushing the paper in his hands, and every +bit of color went from his face. "What's this? 'Unhappily married '-- +'borne with heroic cheerfulness.'" He read it through to the end. + +He stopped his horses and looked around--he did not know, himself, what +thought was in his mind. Jim Dawson had always been able to settle his +disputes without difficulty or delay. There was something to be done +now. The muscles swelled in his arms. Surely something could be +done!... + +Then the wanton cruelty, the utter brutality of the printed page came +home to him--there was no way, no answer. + +Strange to say, he felt no resentment for himself; even the paragraph +about the old lover, with its hidden and sinister meaning, angered him +only in its relation to her. Why shouldn't the man admire her if he was +an old lover?--Kate must have had dozens of men in love with her--why +shouldn't any man admire her? + +So he talked and reasoned with himself, trying to keep the cruel hurt +of the words out of his heart. + +Everyone in his household was asleep when he reached home. He stabled +his team with the help of his lantern, and then, going into the +comfortable kitchen, he found the lunch the housekeeper had left for +him. He thought of the many merry meals he and Kate had had on this +same kitchen table, but now it seemed a poor, cold thing to sit down +and eat alone and in silence. + +With his customary thoughtfulness he cleared away the lunch before +going to his room. Then, lamp in hand, he went, as he and Kate had +always done, to the children's room, and looked long and lovingly at +his boy and girl asleep in their cots--the boy so like himself, with +his broad forehead and brown curls. He bent over him and kissed him +tenderly--Kate's boy. + +Then he turned to the little girl, so like her mother, with her tangle +of red curls on the pillow. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her +to his room and put her in his own bed. + +"Mother isn't putting up a bluff on us, is she, dearie?" he whispered +as he kissed the soft little cheek beside his own. "Mother loves us, +surely--it is pretty rough on us if she doesn't--and it's rougher +still on mother!" + +The child stirred in her sleep, and her arms tightened around his neck. + +"I love my mother--and my dear daddy," she murmured drowsily. + +All night long Jim Dawson lay wide-eyed, staring into the darkness with +his little sleeping girl in his arms, not doubting his wife for a +moment, but wondering--all night long--wondering! + +The next evening Jim did not go for his mail, but one of the neighbors +driving by volunteered to get it for him. + +It was nearly midnight when the sound of wheels roused him from his +reverie. He opened the door, and in the square of light the horses +stopped. + +"Hello, Jim--is that you?" called the neighbor; "I've got something for +you." + +Jim came out bareheaded. He tried to thank the neighbor for his +kindness, but his throat was dry with suppressed excitement--Kate had +written! + +The buggy was still in the shadow, and he could not see its occupant. + +"I have a letter for you, Jim," said his friend, with a suspicious +twinkle in his voice, "a big one, registered and special delivery--a +right nice letter, I should say." + +Then her voice rang out in the darkness. + +"Come, Jim, and help me out." + +Commonplace words, too, but to Jim Dawson they were sweeter than the +chiming of silver bells..... + +An hour later they still sat over their late supper on the kitchen +table. She had told him many things. + +"I just got lonely, Jim--plain, straight homesick for you and the +children. I couldn't stay out the week. The people were kind to me, and +said nice things about my work. I was glad to hear and see things, of +course. Bruce Edwards was there, you know--I've told you about Bruce. +He took me around quite a bit, and was nice enough, only I couldn't +lose him--you know that kind, Jim, always saying tiresome, plastery +sort of things. He thinks that women like to be fussed over all the +time. The women I met dress beautifully and all talk the same--and at +once. Everything is 'perfectly sweet' and 'darling' to them. They are +clever women all right, and were kind to me, and all that, but oh, Jim, +they are not for mine--and the men I met while I was away all looked +small and poor and trifling to me because I have been looking for the +last ten years at one who is big and brown and useful. I compared them +all with you, and they measured up badly. Jim, do you know what it +would feel like to live on popcorn and chocolates for two weeks and try +to make a meal of them--what do you think you would be hungry for?" + +Jim Dawson watched his wife, his eyes aglow with love and pride. Not +until she repeated her question did he answer her. + +"I think, perhaps, a slice of brown bread would be what was wanted," he +answered smiling. The glamor of her presence was upon him. + +Then she came over to him and drew his face close to hers. + +"Please pass the brown bread!" she said. + + + + +A SHORT TALE OF A RABBIT + +(Reprinted by permission of _Canada West Monthly_.) + +Johnny was the only John rabbit in the family that lived in the poplar +bluff in the pasture. He had a bold and adventurous spirit, but was +sadly hampered by his mother's watchfulness. She was as full of +warnings as the sign-board at the railway crossing. It was "Look out +for the cars!" all the time with mother. She warned him of dogs and +foxes, hawks and snakes, boys and men. It was in vain that Johnny +showed her his paces--how he could leap and jump and run. She admitted +that he was quite a smart little rabbit for his age, but--oh, well! you +know what mothers are like. + +Johnny was really tired of it, and then, too, Johnny had found out that +what mother had said about dogs was very much exaggerated. Johnny had +met two dogs, so he thought he knew something about them. One was a +sleek, fat, black puppy, with a vapid smile, called Juno; and the other +was an amber-eyed spaniel with woolly, fat legs. They had run after +Johnny one day when he was out playing on the road, and he had led them +across a ploughed field. Johnny was accustomed to add, as he told the +story to the young rabbits that lived down in the pasture, that he had +to spurt around the field a few times after the race was over just to +limber up his legs--he was so cramped from sitting around waiting for +the dogs. So it came about that Johnny, in his poor, foolish little +heart, thought dogs were just a joke. + +Johnny's mother told him that all men were bad, and the men who carried +guns were worst of all, for guns spit out fire and death. She said +there were men who wore coats the color of dead grass, and drove in +rigs that rattled and had dogs with them, and they killed ducks and +geese that were away up in the air. She said those men drove miles and +miles just to kill things, and they lived sometimes in a little house +away out near the lakes where the ducks stayed, and they didn't mind +getting up early in the morning or sitting up at night to get a shot at +a duck, and when they got the ducks they just gave them away. If half +what old Mrs. Rabbit said about them was true, they certainly were the +Bad Men from Bitter Creek! Johnny listened, big-eyed, to all this, and +there were times when he was almost afraid to go to bed. Still, when he +found out that dogs were not so dangerous, he began to think his mother +might have overstated the man question, too. + +One day Johnny got away from his mother, when she was busy training the +other little rabbits in the old trick of dodging under the wire fence +just when the dog is going to grab you. Johnny knew how it was done--it +was as easy as rolling off a log for him, and so he ran away. He came +up at the Agricultural Grounds. He had often been close to the fence +before, but his mother had said decidedly he must never go in. + +Just beside the gate he found a bread crust which was lovely, and there +might be more, mightn't there? There wasn't a person in sight, or a +dog. Johnny went a little farther in and found a pile of cabbage +leaves--a pile of them, mind you--he really didn't know what to think +of his mother--she certainly was the limit! Johnny grew bolder; a +little farther on he found more bread crumbs and some stray lettuce +leaves--he began to feel a little sorry for his mother--lettuce +leaves, cabbage leaves and bread crumbs--and she had said, "Don't go +in there, Johnny, whatever you do!" + +The band was playing, and there were flags in the air, but Johnny +didn't notice it. He didn't know, of course, that the final lacrosse +match of the season was going to be played that afternoon. Johnny had +just gone into one of the cattle sheds to see what was there, when a +little boy, with flopped-out ears and a Cow Brand Soda cap on, +stealthily closed the gate. Johnny didn't know he had on a Cow Brand +Soda cap, and he didn't know that the gate was shut, but he did know +that that kind of a yell meant business. He wasn't afraid. Pshaw! He'd +give young Mr. Flop-Ears a run for his money. Come on, kid--r-r-r-r-r! +Johnny ran straight to the gate with a rabbit's unerring instinct, and +hurled himself against it in vain. The flop-eared boy screamed with +laughter. Then there were more Boys. And Dogs. All screaming. The +primitive savage in them was awake now. Here was a wild thing who +defied them, with all his speed. Johnny was running now with his ears +laid back, mad with terror, dogs barking, boys screaming, even men +joining in the chase, for the lust for blood was on them. Again Johnny +made the circuit of the field--the noise grew--a hundred voices, it +seemed, not one that was friendly. It was one little throbbing rabbit +against the field, with all the odds against him, running for his life, +and losing! "Sic him, Togo! Sic him, Collie! Gee! Can't he run? But +we've got him this time. He'll soon slow up." A dog snapped at him and +his hind leg grew heavy. Some one struck at him with a lacrosse stick, +and then-- + +He found himself running alone. Behind him a dog yelped with pain, and +above the noise someone shouted: "Here, you kids, let up on that! Shame +on you! Let him alone! Call off your dogs, there! Poor little duffer, +let him go. Get back there, Twin!" + +Johnny ran dazed and dizzy, and once more made the circuit and dashed +again for the gate. But this time the gate was open, and Johnny was +free! Saved, and by whom? + +Well, of course, old Mrs. Rabbit didn't believe a word of it when +Johnny went home and told her who called off the dogs and opened the +gate for him. She said,--well, she talked very plainly to Johnny, but +he stuck to it, that he owed his life to one of the Bad Men who wear +clothes the color of grass, and whose gun spits fire and death. For old +Mrs. Rabbit made just the same mistake that many people make of +thinking that a man that hunts must be cruel, forgetting that the true +sportsman loves the wild things he makes war on, and though he kills +them, he does it fairly and openly. + + + + +THE ELUSIVE VOTE + +AN UNVARNISHED TALE OF SEPTEMBER 21st, 1911 + +John Thomas Green did not look like a man on whom great issues might +turn. His was a gentle soul encased in ill-fitting armour. Heavy blue +eyes, teary and sad, gave a wintry droop to his countenance; his nose +showed evidence of much wiping, and the need of more. When he spoke, +which was infrequent, he stammered; when he walked he toed in. + +He was a great and glorious argument in favor of woman suffrage; he was +the last word, the _piéce de résistance_; he was a living, walking, +yellow banner, which shouted "Votes for Women," for in spite of his +many limitations there was one day when he towered high above the +mightiest woman in the land; one day that the plain John Thomas was +clothed with majesty and power; one day when he emerged from obscurity +and placed an impress on the annals of our country. Once every four +years John Thomas Green came forth (at the earnest solicitation of +friends) and stood before kings. + +The Reciprocity fight was on, and nowhere did it rage more hotly than +in Morton, where Tom Brown, the well-beloved and much-hated +Conservative member, fought for his seat with all the intensity of his +Irish blood. Politics were an incident to Tom--the real thing was the +fight! and so fearlessly did he go after his assailants--and they were +many--that every day greater enthusiasm prevailed among his followers, +who felt it a privilege to fight for a man who fought so well for +himself. + +The night before the election the Committee sat in the Committee Rooms +and went carefully over the lists. They were hopeful but not hilarious +--there had been disappointments, desertions, lapses! + +Billy Weaver, loyal to the cause, but of pessimistic nature, testified +that Sam Cowery had been "talkin' pretty shrewd about reciprocity," by +which Billy did not mean "shrewd" at all, but rather crooked and +adverse. However, there was no mistaking Billy's meaning of the word +when one heard him say it with his inimitable "down-the-Ottaway" +accent. It is only the feeble written word which requires explanation. + +George Burns was reported to have said he did not care whether he voted +or not; if it were a wet day he might, but if it were weather for +stacking he'd stack, you bet! This was a gross insult to the President +of the Conservative Association, whose farm he had rented and lived on +for the last five years, during which time there had been two +elections, at both of which he had voted "right." The President had not +thought it necessary to interview him at all this time, feeling sure +that he was within the pale. But now it seemed that some trifler had +told him that he would get more for his barley and not have to pay so +much for his tobacco if Reciprocity carried, and it was reported that +he had been heard to say, with picturesque eloquence, that you could +hardly expect a man to cut his throat both ways by voting against it! + +These and other kindred reports filled the Committee with apprehension. + +The most unmoved member of the company was the redoubtable Tom himself, +who, stretched upon the slippery black leather lounge, hoarse as a frog +from much addressing of obdurate electors, was endeavoring to sing +"Just Before the Battle, Mother," hitting the tune only in the most +inconspicuous places! + +The Secretary, with the list in his hand, went over the names: + +"Jim Stewart--Jim's solid; he doesn't want Reciprocity, because he sent +to the States once for a washing-machine for his wife, and smuggled it +through from St. Vincent, and when he got it here his wife wouldn't use +it! + +"Abe Collins--Abe's not right and never will be--he saw Sir Wilfrid +once-- + +"John Thomas Green--say, how about Jack? Surely we can corral Jack. +He's working for you, Milt, isn't he?" addressing one of the +scrutineers. + +"Leave him to me," said Milt, with an air of mystery; "there's no one +has more influence with Jack than me. No, he isn't with me just now, +he's over with my brother Angus; but when he comes in to vote I'll be +there, and all I'll have to do is to lift my eyes like this" (he showed +them the way it would be done) "and he'll vote--right." + +"How do you know he will come, though?" asked the Secretary, who had +learned by much experience that many and devious are the bypaths which +lead away from the polls! + +"Yer brother Angus will be sure to bring him in, won't he, Milt?" asked +John Gray, the trusting one, who believed all men to be brothers. + +There was a tense silence. + +Milt took his pipe from his mouth. "My brother Angus," he began, +dramatically, girding himself for the effort--for Milt was an orator of +Twelfth of July fame--"Angus Kennedy, my brother, bred and reared, and +reared and bred, in the principles of Conservatism, as my poor old +father often says, has gone over--has deserted our banners, has steeped +himself in the false teachings of the Grits. Angus, my brother," he +concluded, impressively, "is--not right!" + +"What's wrong with him?" asked Jim Grover, who was of an analytical +turn of mind. + +"Too late to discuss that now!" broke in the Secretary; "we cannot +trace Angus's downfall, but we can send out and get in John Thomas. We +need his vote--it's just as good as anybody's." + +Jimmy Rice volunteered to go out and get him. Jimmy did not believe in +leaving anything to chance. He had been running an auto all week and +would just as soon work at night as any other time. Big Jack Moore, +another enthusiastic Conservative, agreed to go with him. + +When they made the ten-mile run to the home of the apostate Angus, they +met him coming down the path with a lantern in his hand on the way to +feed his horses. + +They, being plain, blunt men, unaccustomed to the amenities of election +time, and not knowing how to skilfully approach a subject of this kind, +simply announced that they had come for John Thomas. + +"He's not here," said Angus, looking around the circle of light that +the lantern threw. + +"Are you sure?" asked James Rice, after a painful pause. + +"Yes," said Angus, with exaggerated ease, affecting not to notice the +significance of the question. "Jack went to Nelson to-day, and he ain't +back yet. He went about three o'clock," went on Angus, endeavoring to +patch up a shaky story with a little interesting detail. "He took over +a bunch of pigs for me that I am shippin' into Winnipeg, and he was +goin' to bring back some lumber." + +"I was in Nelson to-day, Angus," said John Moore, sternly; "just came +from there, and I did not see John Thomas." + +Angus, though fallen and misguided, was not entirely unregenerate; a +lie sat awkwardly on his honest lips, and now that his feeble effort at +deception had miscarried, he felt himself adrift on a boundless sea. He +wildly felt around for a reply, and was greatly relieved by the arrival +of his father on the scene, who, seeing the lights of the auto in the +yard, had come out hurriedly to see what was the matter. Grandpa +Kennedy, although nearing his ninetieth birthday, was still a man of +affairs, and what was still more important on this occasion, a lifelong +Conservative. Grandpa knew it was the night before the election; he +also had seen what he had seen. Grandpa might be getting on, but he +could see as far through a cellar door as the next one. Angus, glad of +a chance to escape, went on to the stable, leaving the visiting +gentlemen to be entertained by Grandpa. + +Grandpa was a diplomat; he wanted to have no hard feelings with anyone. + +"Good-night, boys," he cried, in his shrill voice; he recognized the +occupants of the auto and his quick brain took in the situation. "Don't +it beat all how the frost keeps off? This reminds me of the fall, +'leven years ago--we had no frost till the end of the month. I ripened +three bushels of Golden Queen tomatoes!" All this was delivered in a +very high voice for Angus's benefit--to show him, if he were listening, +how perfectly innocent the conversation was. + +Then as Angus's lantern disappeared behind the stable, the old man's +voice was lowered, and he gave forth this cryptic utterance: + +"_John Thomas is in the cellar_." + +Then he gaily resumed his chatter, although Angus was safe in the +stable; but Grandpa knew what he knew, and Angus's woman might be +listening at the back door. "Much election talk in town, boys?" he +asked, breezily. They answered him at random. Then his voice fell +again. "Angle's dead against Brown--won't let you have John Thomas--put +him down cellar soon as he saw yer lights; Angie's woman is sittin on +the door knittin'--she's wors'n him--don't let on I give it away--I +don't want no words with her!--Yes, it's grand weather for threshin'; +won't you come on away in? I guess yer horse will stand." The old man +roared with laughter at his own joke. + +John Moore and James Rice went back to headquarters for further advice. +Angus's woman sitting on the cellar door knitting was a contingency +that required to be met with guile. + +Consternation sat on the face of the Committee when they told their +story. They had not counted on this. The wildest plans were discussed. +Tom Stubbins began a lengthy story of an elopement that happened down +at the "Carp," where the bride made a rope of the sheets and came down +from an upstairs window. Tom was not allowed to finish his narrative, +though, for it was felt that the cases were not similar. + +No one seemed to be particularly anxious to go back and interrupt Mrs. +Angus's knitting. + +Then there came into the assembly one of the latest additions to the +Conservative ranks, William Batters, a converted and reformed Liberal. +He had been an active member of the Liberal party for many years, but +at the last election he had been entirely convinced of their +unworthiness by the close-fisted and niggardly way in which they +dispensed the election money. + +He heard the situation discussed in all its aspects. Milton Kennedy, +with inflamed oratory, bitterly bewailed his brother's defection--"not +only wrong himself, but leadin' others, and them innocent lambs!"--but +he did not offer to go out and see his brother. The lady who sat +knitting on the cellar door seemed to be the difficulty with all of +them. + +The reformed Liberal had a plan. + +"I will go for him," said he. "Angus will trust me--he doesn't know I +have turned. I'll go for John Thomas, and Angus will give him to me +without a word, thinkin' I'm a friend," he concluded, brazenly. + +"Look at that now!" exclaimed the member elect. "Say, boys, you'd know +he had been a Grit--no honest, open-faced Conservative would ever think +of a trick like that!" + +"There is nothing like experience to make a man able to see every +side," said the reformed one, with becoming modesty. + +An hour later Angus was roused from his bed by a loud knock on the +door. Angus had gone to bed with his clothes on, knowing that these +were troublesome times. + +"What's the row?" he asked, when he had cautiously opened the door. + +"Row!" exclaimed the friend who was no longer a friend, "You're the man +that's makin' the row. The Conservatives have 'phoned in to the +Attorney-General's Department to-night to see what's to be done with +you for standin' between a man and his heaven-born birthright, keepin' +and confinin' of a man in a cellar, owned by and closed by you!" + +This had something the air of a summons, and Angus was duly impressed. + +"I don't want to see you get into trouble. Angus," Mr. Batters went on; +"and the only way to keep out of it is to give him to me, and then when +they come out here with a search-warrant they won't find nothin'." + +Angus thanked him warmly, and, going upstairs, roused the innocent John +from his virtuous slumbers. He had some trouble persuading John, who +was a profound sleeper, that he must arise and go hence; but many +things were strange to him, and he rose and dressed without very much +protest. + +Angus was distinctly relieved when he got John Thomas off his hands--he +felt he had had a merciful deliverance. + +On the way to town, roused by the night air, John Thomas became +communicative. + +"Them lads in the automobile, they wanted me pretty bad, you bet," he +chuckled, with the conscious pride of the much-sought-after; "but gosh, +Angus fixed them. He just slammed down the cellar door on me, and says +he, 'Not a word out of you, Jack; you've as good a right to vote the +way you want to as anybody, and you'll get it, too, you bet.'" + +The reformed Liberal knitted his brows. What was this simple child of +nature driving at? + +John Thomas rambled on: "Tom Brown can't fool people with brains, you +bet you--Angus's woman explained it all to me. She says to me, 'Don't +let nobody run you, Jack--and vote for Hastings. You're all right, +Jack--and remember Hastings is the man. Never mind why--don't bother +your head--you don't have to--but vote for Hastings.' Says she, 'Don't +let on to Milt, or any of his folks, or Grandpa, but vote the way you +want to, and that's for Hastings!'" + +When they arrived in town the reformed Liberal took John Thomas at once +to the Conservative Hotel, and put him in a room, and told him to go to +bed, which John cheerfully did. Then he went for the Secretary, who was +also in bed. "I've got John Thomas," he announced, "but he says he's a +Grit and is going to vote for Hastings. I can't put a dint in him--he +thinks I'm a Grit, too. He's only got one idea, but it's a solid one, +and that is 'Vote for Hastings.'" + +The Secretary yawned sleepily. "I'll not go near him. It's me for +sleep. You can go and see if any of the other fellows want a job. +They're all down at a ball at the station. Get one of those wakeful +spirits to reason with John." + +The conspirator made his way stealthily to the station, from whence +there issued the sound of music and dancing. Not wishing to alarm the +Grits, many of whom were joining in the festivities, and who would have +been quick to suspect that something was on foot, if they saw him +prowling around, he crept up to the window and waited until one of the +faithful came near. Gently tapping on the glass, he got the attention +of the editor, the very man he wanted, and, in pantomime, gave him to +understand that his presence was requested. The editor, pleading a +terrific headache, said good-night, or rather good-morning, to his +hostess, and withdrew. From his fellow-worker who waited in the shadow +of the trees outside, he learned that John Thomas had been secured in +the body but not in spirit. + +The newspaper man readily agreed to labor with the erring brother and +hoped to be able to deliver his soul alive. + +Once again was John Thomas roused from his slumbers, and not by a +familiar voice this time, but by an unknown vision in evening dress. + +The editor was a convincing man in his way, whether upon the subject of +reciprocity or apostolic succession, but John was plainly bored from +the beginning, and though he offered no resistance, his repeated "I +know that!" "That's what I said!" were more disconcerting than the most +vigorous opposition. At daylight the editor left John, and he really +had the headache that he had feigned a few hours before. + +Then John Thomas tried to get a few winks of unmolested repose, but it +was election day, and the house was early astir. Loud voices sounded +through the hall. Innumerable people, it seemed, mistook his room for +their own. Jack rose at last, thoroughly indignant and disposed to +quarrel. He had a blame good notion to vote for Brown after all, after +the way he had been treated. + +When he had hastily dressed himself, discussing his grievances in a +loud voice, he endeavored to leave the room, but found the door +securely locked. Then his anger knew no bounds. He lustily kicked on +the lower panel of the door and fairly shrieked his indignation and +rage. + +The chambermaid, passing, remonstrated with him by beating on the other +side of the door. She was a pert young woman with a squeaky voice, and +she thought she knew what was wrong with the occupant of 17. She had +heard kicks on doors before. + +"Quiet down, you, mister, or you'll get yourself put in the cooler-- +that's the best place for noisy drunks." + +This, of course, annoyed the innocent man beyond measure, but she was +gone far down the hall before he could think of the retort suitable. + +When she finished her upstairs work and came downstairs to peel the +potatoes, she mentioned casually to the bartender that whoever he had +in number 17 was "smashin' things up pretty lively!" + +The bartender went up and liberated the indignant voter, who by this +time had his mind made up to vote against both Brown and Hastings, and +furthermore to renounce politics in all its aspects for evermore. + +However, a good breakfast and the sincere apologies of the hotel people +did much to restore his good humor. But a certain haziness grew in his +mind as to who was who, and at times the disquieting thought skidded +through his murky brain that he might be in the enemy's camp for all he +knew. Angus and Mrs. Angus had said, "Do what you think is right and +vote for Hastings," and that was plain and simple and easily +understood. But now things seemed to be all mixed up. + +The committee were ill at ease about him. The way he wagged his head +and declared he knew what was what, you bet, was very disquieting, and +the horrible fear haunted them that they were perchance cherishing a +serpent in their bosom. + +The Secretary had a proposal: "Take him out to Milt Kennedy's. Milt +said he could work him. Take him out there! Milt said all he had to do +was to raise his eyes and John Thomas would vote right." + +The erstwhile Liberal again went on the road with John Thomas, to +deliver him over to the authority of Milt Kennedy. If Milt could get +results by simply elevating his eyebrows, Milt was the man who was +needed. + +Arriving at Milt's, he left the voter sitting in the buggy, while he +went in search of the one who could control John's erring judgment. + +While sitting there alone, another wandering thought zig-zagged through +John's brain. They were making a fool of him, some way! Well, he'd let +them see, b'gosh! + +He jumped out of the buggy, and hastily climbed into the hay-mow. It +was a safe and quiet spot, and was possessed of several convenient +eye-holes through which he could watch with interest the search which +immediately began. + +He saw the two men coming up to the barn, and as they passed almost +below him, he heard Milt say, "Oh, sure, John Thomas will vote right--I +can run him all right!--he'll do as I say. Hello, John! Where is he?" + +They went into the house--they searched the barn--they called, coaxed, +entreated. They ran down to the road to see if he had started back to +town; he was as much gone as if he had never been! + +"Are you dead sure you brought him?" Milt asked at last in desperation, +as he turned over a pile of sacks in the granary. + +"Gosh! ain't they lookin' some!" chuckled the elusive voter, as he +watched with delight their unsuccessful endeavors to locate him. "But +there's lots of places yet that they hain't thought of; they hain't +half looked for me yet. I may be in the well for all they know." Then +he began to sing to himself, "I know something I won't tell!" + +It was not every day that John Thomas Green found himself the centre of +attraction, and he enjoyed the sensation. + +Having lost so much sleep the night before, a great drowsiness fell on +John Thomas, and curling himself up in the hay, he sank into a sweet, +sound sleep. + +While he lay there, safe from alarms, the neighborhood was shaken with +a profound sensation. John Thomas was lost. Lost, and his vote lost +with him! + +Milton Kennedy, who had to act as scrutineer at the poll in town, was +forced to leave home with the mystery unsolved. Before going, he +'phoned to Billy Adams, one of the faithful, and in guarded speech, +knowing that he was surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, broke the news! +Billy Adams immediately left his stacking, and set off to find his lost +compatriot. + +Mrs. Alex Porter lived on the next farm to Billy Adams, and being a +lady of some leisure, she usually managed to get in on most of the +'phone conversations. Billy Adams' calls were very seldom overlooked by +her, for she was on the other side of politics, and it was always well +to know what was going on. Although she did not know all that was said +by the two men, she heard enough to assure her that crooked work was +going on. Mrs. Alex Porter declared she was not surprised. She threw +her apron over her head and went to the field and told Alex. Alex was +not surprised. In fact, it seems Alex had expected it! + +They 'phoned in cipher to Angus, Mrs. Angus being a sister of Mrs. Alex +Porter. Mrs. Angus told them to speak out plain, and say what they +wanted to, even if all the Conservatives on the line were listening. +Then Mrs. Porter said that John Thomas was lost over at Milt Kennedy's. +They had probably drugged him or something. + +Then Angus's wife said he was safe enough. Billy Batters had come and +got him the night before. At the mention of Billy Batters there was a +sound of suppressed mirth all along the line. Mrs. Angus's sister +fairly shrieked. "Billy Batters! Don't you know he has turned +Conservative!--he's working tooth and nail for Brown." Mrs. Angus +called Angus excitedly. Everybody talked at once; somebody laughed; one +or two swore. Mrs. Porter told Milt Kennedy's wife she'd caught her +eavesdropping this time sure. She'd know her cackle any place, and +Milt's wife told Mrs. Porter to shut up--she needn't talk about +eavesdroppers,--good land! and Mrs. Porter told Mrs. Milt she should +try something for that voice of hers, and recommended machine oil, and +Central rang in and told them they'd all have their 'phones taken out +if they didn't stop quarreling; and John Thomas, in the hay-mow, slept +on, as peacefully as an innocent babe! + +In the committee rooms, Jack's disappearance was excitedly discussed. +The Conservatives were not sure that Bill Batters was not giving them +the double cross--once a Grit, always a Grit! Angus was threatening to +have him arrested for abduction--he had beguiled John Thomas from the +home of his friends, and then carelessly lost him. + +William Batters realized that he had lost favor in both places, and +anxiously longed for a sight of John Thomas's red face, vote or no +vote. + +At four o'clock John Thomas awoke much refreshed, but very hungry. He +went into the house in search of something to eat. Milton and his wife +had gone into town many hours before, but he found what he wanted, and +was going back to the hay-mow to finish his sleep, just as Billy Adams +was going home after having cast his vote. + +Billy Adams seized him eagerly, and rapidly drove back to town. Jack's +vote would yet be saved to the party! + +It was with pardonable pride that Billy Adams reined in his foaming +team, and rushed John Thomas into the polling booth, where he was +greeted with loud cheers. Nobody dare ask him where he had been--time +was too precious. Milton Kennedy, scrutineer, lifted his eyebrows as +per agreement. Jack replied with a petulant shrug of his good shoulder +and passed in to the inner chamber. + +The Conservatives were sure they had him. The Liberals were sure, too. +Mrs. Angus was sure Jack would vote right after the way she had +reasoned with him and showed him! + +When the ballots were counted, there were several spoiled ones, of +course. But there was one that was rather unique. After the name of +Thomas Brown, there was written in lead pencil, "_None of yer +business_!" which might have indicated a preference for the other name +of John Hastings, only for the fact that opposite his name was the curt +remark, "_None of yer business, either_!" + +Some thought the ballot was John Thomas Green's. + + + + +THE WAY OF THE WEST + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Globe_, Toronto.) + +Thomas Shouldice was displeased, sorely, bitterly displeased: in fact, +he was downright mad, and being an Irish Orangeman, this means that he +was ready to fight. You can imagine just how bitterly Mr. Shouldice was +incensed when you hear that the Fourth of July had been celebrated with +flourish of flags and blare of trumpets right under his very nose--in +Canada--in British dominions! + +The First of July, the day that should have been given up to "doin's," +including the race for the greased pig, the three-legged race, and a +ploughing match, had passed into obscurity, without so much as a +pie-social; and it had rained that day, too, in torrents, just as if +Nature herself did not care enough about the First to try to keep it dry. + +The Fourth came in a glorious day, all sunshine and blue sky, with +birds singing in every poplar bluff, and it was given such a +celebration as Thomas had never seen since the "Twelfth" had been held +in Souris. The American settlers who had been pouring into the Souris +valley had--without so much as asking leave from the Government at +Ottawa, the school trustees, or the oldest settler, who was Thomas +himself--gone ahead and celebrated. Every American family had brought +their own flagpole, in "joints," with them, and on the Fourth immense +banners of stars and stripes spread their folds in triumph on the +breeze. + +The celebration was held in a large grove just across the road from +Thomas Shouldice's little house; and to his inflamed patriotism, every +firecracker that split the air, every cheer that rent the heavens, +every blare of their smashing band music, seemed a direct challenge to +King Edward himself, God bless him! + +Mr. Shouldice worked all day at his hay-meadow, just to show them! He +worked hard, too, never deigning a glance at their "carryin's on," just +to let them know that he did not care two cents for their Fourth of +July. + +His first thought was to feign indifference, but when he saw the +Wilsons, the Wrays, the Henrys, Canadian-bred and born, driving over to +the enemy's camp, with their Sunday clothes on and big boxes of +provisions on the "doggery" of their buckboards, his indifference fled +and was replaced by profanity. It comforted him a little when he +reflected that not an Orangeman had gone. They were loyal sons and +true, every one of them. These other ignorant Canadians might forget +what they owed to the old flag, but the Orangemen--never. + +Thomas's rage against the Yankees was intensified when he saw Father +O'Flynn walking across the plover slough. Then he was sure that the +Americans and Catholics were in league against the British. + +A mighty thought was conceived that day in the brain of Thomas +Shouldice, late Worshipful Master of the Carleton Place Loyal Orange +Lodge No. 23. They would celebrate the Twelfth, so they would; he'd +like to see who would stop them. Someone would stand up for the flag +that had braved a thousand years of battle and the breeze. He blew his +nose noisily on his red handkerchief when he thought of this. + +They would celebrate the Twelfth! They would "walk." He would gather up +"the boys" and get someone to make a speech. They would get a fifer +from Brandon. It was the fife that could stir the heart in you! And the +fifer would play "The Protestant Boys" and "Rise, Sons of William, +Rise!" Anyone that tried to stop him would get a shirt full of sore +bones! + +Thomas went home full of the plan to get back at the invaders! +Rummaging through his trunk, he found, carefully wrapped with chewing +tobacco and ground cedar, to keep the moths away, the regalia that he +had worn, proudly and defiantly, once in Montreal, when the crowd that +obstructed the triumphal march of the Orange Young Britons had to be +dispersed by the "melitia." It was a glorious day, and one to be +remembered with pride, for there had been shots fired and heads +smashed. + +His man, a guileless young Englishman, came in from mowing, gaily +whistling the refrain the Yankee band had been playing at intervals all +afternoon. It was "Dixie Land," and at first Thomas did not notice it. +Rousing at last to the sinister significance of the tune, he ordered +its cessation, in rosy-hued terms, and commended all such Yankee tunes +and those that whistled them to that region where popular rumor has it +that pots boil with or without watching. + +Thomas Shouldice had lived by himself for a number of years. It was +supposed that he had a wife living somewhere in "the States," which +term to many Canadians indicates a shadowy region where bad boys, +unfaithful wives and absconding embezzlers find refuge and dwell in dim +security. + +Thomas's devotion to the Orange Order was nothing short of a passion. +He believed that but for its institution and perpetuation Protestant +blood would flow like water. He always spoke of the "Stuarts" in an +undertone, as if he were afraid they might even yet come back and make +"rough house" for King Edward. + +There were only two Catholic families in the neighborhood, and +peaceable, friendly people they were, too; but Thomas believed they +should be intimidated to prevent trouble. "The old spite is in them," +he told himself, "and nothing will show them where they stand like a +'walk.'" + +The next day Thomas left his haying and rounded up the faithful. There +were seven members of the order in the community, all of whom were +willing to stand for their country's honor. There was James Shewfelt, +who was a drummer, and could play the tunes without the fife at all. +There was John Barker, who did a musical turn in the form of a twenty- +three verse ballad beginning: + + "When Popery did flourish in + Dear Ireland o'er the sea, + There came a man from Amsterdam + To set ould Ireland free! + To set ould Ireland free, boys, + To set ould Ireland free,-- + There came a man from Amsterdam + To set ould Ireland free!" + +There was William Breeze, who was a little hard of hearing, but loyal +to the core. He had seven boys in his family, so there was still hope +for the nation. There was Patrick Mooney, who should have been wearing +the other color if there is anything in a name. But there isn't. There +was John Burns, who had been an engineer, but, having lost a foot, had +taken to farming. He was the farthest advanced in the order next to +Thomas Shouldice, having served a term as District Grand Master, and +was well up in the Grand Black Chapter. These would form the nucleus of +the procession. The seven little Breezes would be admitted to the ranks +if their mother could find suitable decoration for them. Of course, the +weather was warm and the subject of clothing was not so serious as it +might have been. + +Thomas drove nineteen miles to the nearest town to get a speaker and a +fifer. The fifer was found, and, quite fortunately, was open for +engagement. The speaker was not so easily secured. Thomas went to the +Methodist missionary. The missionary was quite a young man and had the +reputation of being an orator. He listened gravely while his visitor +unfolded his plan. + +"I'll tell you what to do, Mr. Shouldice," he said, smiling, when the +other had finished the recital of his country's wrongs. "Get Father +O'Flynn; he'll make you a speech that will do you all good." + +Thomas was too astonished for words. "But he's a Papist!" he sputtered +at last. + +"Oh, pshaw! Oh, pshaw! Mr. Shouldice," the young man exclaimed; +"there's no division of creed west of Winnipeg. The little priest does +all my sick visiting north of the river, and I do his on the south. +He's a good preacher, and the finest man at a deathbed I ever saw." + +"This is not a deathbed, though, as it happens," Thomas replied, with +dignity. + +The young minister threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "Can't +tell that until it is over--I've been at a few Orange walks down East, +you know--took part in one myself once." + +"Did you walk?" Thomas asked, brightening. + +"No, I ran," the minister said, smiling. + +"I thought you said you took part," Thomas snorted, with displeasure. + +"So I did, but mine was a minor part. I stood behind the fence and +helped the Brennan boys and Patrick Costigan to peg at them!" + +"Are ye a Protestant at all?" Thomas roared at him, now thoroughly +angry. + +"Yes, I am," the minister said, slowly, "and I am something better +still; I am a Christian and a Canadian. Are you?" + +Thomas beat a hasty retreat. + +The Presbyterian minister was away from home, and the English Church +minister--who was also a young man lately arrived--said he would go +gladly. + +The Twelfth of July was a beautiful day, clear, sparkling and +cloudless. Little wayward breezes frolicked up and down the banks of +Moose Creek and rasped the surface of its placid pools, swollen still +from the heavy rains of the "First." In the glittering sunshine the +prairie lay a riot of color; the first wild roses now had faded to a +pastel pink, but on every bush there were plenty of new ones, deeply +crimson and odorous. Across the creek from Thomas Shouldice's little +house, Indian pipes and columbine reddened the edge of the poplar +grove, from the lowest branches of which morning-glories, white and +pink and purple, hung in graceful profusion. + +Before noon a wagon filled with people came thundering down the trail. +As they came nearer Thomas was astonished to see that it was an +American family from the Chippen Hill district. + +"Picnic in these parts, ain't there?" the driver asked. + +Thomas was in a genial mood, occasioned by the day and the weather. + +"Orange walk and picnic!" he replied, waving his hand toward the bluff, +where a few of the faithful were constructing a triumphal arch. + +"Something like a cake-walk, is it?" the man asked, looking puzzled. + +Mr. Shouldice stared at him incredulously. + +"Did ye never hear of Orangemen down yer way?" he said. + +"Never did, pard," the man answered. "We've peanut men, and apple +women, and banana men, but we've never heard much about orange men. But +we're right glad to come over and help the show along. Do you want any +money for the races?" + +"We didn't count on havin' races; we're havin' speeches and some +singin'." + +The Yankee laughed good-humoredly. + +"Well, friend, I pass there; but mother here is a W.C.T.U.-er from away +back. She'll knock the spots off the liquor business in fifteen +minutes, if you'd like anything in that line." + +His wife interposed in her easy, drawling tones: "Now, Abe, you best +shet up and drive along. The kids are all hungry and want their +dinners." + +"We'll see you later, partner," said the man as they drove away. + +Thomas Shouldice was mystified. "These Americans are a queer bunch," he +thought; "they're ignorant as all get out, but, gosh! they're +friendly." + +Over the hill to the south came other wagons filled with jolly +picnickers, who soon had their pots boiling over quickly-constructed +tripods. + +Thomas, who went over to welcome them, found that nearly all of them +were the very Americans whose unholy zeal for their own national +holiday had so embittered his heart eight days before. + +They were full of enquiries as to the meaning of an Orange walk. Thomas +tried to explain, but, having only inflamed Twelfth of July oratory for +the source of his information, he found himself rather at a loss. But +the Americans gathered that it was something he used to do "down East," +and they were sympathetic at once. + +"That's right, you bet," one gray-haired man with a young face +exclaimed, getting rid of a bulky chew of tobacco that had slightly +impeded his utterance. "There's nothin' like keepin' up old +institootions." + +By two o'clock fully one hundred people had gathered. + +Thomas was radiant. "Every wan is here now except that old Papist, +O'Flynn," he whispered to the drummer. "I hope he'll come, too, so I +do. It'll be a bitter pill for him to swallow." + +The drummer did not share the wish. He was thinking, uneasily, of the +time two years ago--the winter of the deep snow--when he and his family +had been quarantined with smallpox, and of how Father O'Flynn had come +miles out of his way every week on his snowshoes to hand in a roll of +newspapers he had gathered up, no one knows where, and a bag of candies +for the little ones. He was thinking of how welcome the priest's little +round face had been to them all those long, tedious six weeks, and how +cheery his voice sounded as he shouted, "Are ye needin' anything, +Jimmy, avick? All right, I'll be back on Thursda', God willin'. Don't +be frettin', now, man alive! Everybody has to have the smallpox. Sure, +yer shaming the Catholics this year, Jimmy, keeping Lent so well." The +drummer was decidedly uneasy. + +There is an old saying about speaking of angels in which some people +still believe. Just at this moment Father O'Flynn came slowly over the +hill. + +Father O'Flynn was a typical little Irish priest, good-natured, witty, +emotional. Nearly every family north of the river had some cause for +loving the little man. He was a tireless walker, making the round of +his parish every week, no matter what the weather. He had a little +house built for him the year before at the Forks of the Assiniboine, +where he had planted a garden, set out plants and flowers, and made it +a little bower of beauty; but he had lived in it only one summer, for +an impecunious English couple, who needed a roof to cover them rather +urgently, had taken possession of it during his absence, and the kind- +hearted little father could not bring himself to ask them to vacate. +When his friends remonstrated with him, he turned the conversation by +telling them of another and a better Man of whom it was written that He +"had not where to lay His head." + +Father O'Flynn was greeted with delight, by the younger ones +especially. The seven little Breezes were very demonstrative, and +Thomas Shouldice resolved to warn their father against the priest's +malign influence. He recalled a sentence or two from "Maria Monk," +which said something like this: "Give us a child until he is ten years +old, and let us teach him our doctrine, and he's ours for evermore." + +"Oh, they're deep ones, them Jesuits!" + +Father O'Flynn was just in time for the "walk." + +"Do you know what an Orange walk is, father?" one of the American women +asked, really looking for information. + +"Yes, daughter, yes," the little priest answered, a shadow coming into +his merry grey eyes. He gave her an evasive reply, and then murmured to +himself, as he picked a handful of orange lilies: "It is an institution +of the Evil One to sow discord among brothers." + +The walk began. + +First came the fife and drum, skirling out an Orange tune, at which the +little priest winced visibly. Then followed Thomas Shouldice, in the +guise of King William. He was mounted on his own old, spavined grey +mare, that had performed this honorable office many times in her youth. +But now she seemed lacking in the pride that befits the part. Thomas +himself was gay with ribbons and a short red coat, whose gilt braid was +sadly tarnished. One of the Yankees had kindly loaned a mottled buggy- +robe for the saddle-cloth. + +Behind Thomas marched the twenty-three-verse soloist and the other +faithful few, followed by the seven Breeze boys, gay with yellow +streamers made from the wrapping of a ham. + +The Yankees grouped about were sorry to see so few in the procession. +They had brought along three or four of their band instruments to +furnish music if it were needed. As the end of the procession passed +them, two of the smaller boys swung in behind the last two Breezes. + +It was an inspiration. Instantly the whole company stepped into line-- +two by two, men, women, and children, waving their bunches of lilies! + +Thomas, from his point of vantage, could see the whole company +following his lead, and his heart swelled with pride. Under the arch +the procession swept, stepping to the music, the significance of which +most of the company did not even guess at--good-natured, neighborly, +filled with the spirit of the West, that ever seeks to help along. + +Everyone, even Father O'Flynn, was happier than James Shewfelt, the +drummer. + +The fifer paused, preparatory to changing the tune. It was the +drummer's opportunity. "Onward, Christian Soldiers," he sang, tapping +the rhythm on the drum. The fifer caught the strain. Not a voice was +silent, and unconsciously hand clasped hand, and the soft afternoon air +reverberated with the swelling cadence: + +"We are not divided, +All one body we." + +When the verse was done the fifer led off into another and another. The +little priest's face glowed with pleasure. "It is the Spirit of the +Lord," he whispered to himself, as he marched to the rhythm, his hand +closely held by the smallest Breeze boy, whose yellow streamers and +profuse decoration of orange lilies were at strange variance with his +companion's priestly robes. But on this day nothing was at variance. +The spirit of the West was upon them, unifying, mellowing, harmonizing +all conflicting emotions--the spirit of the West that calls on men +everywhere to be brothers and lend a hand. + +The Church of England minister did make a speech, but not the one he +had intended. Instead of denominationalism, he spoke of brotherhood; +instead of religious intolerance, he spoke of religious liberty; +instead of the Prince of Orange, who crossed the Boyne to give +religious freedom to Ireland, he told of the Prince of Peace, who died +on the cross to save the souls of men of every nation and kindred and +tribe. + +In the hush that followed Father O'Flynn stepped forward and said he +thanked the brother who had planned this meeting; he was glad, he said, +for such an opportunity for friends and neighbors to meet; he spoke of +the glorious heritage that all had in this great new country, and how +all must stand together as brothers. All prejudices of race and creed +and doctrine die before the wonderful power of loving service. "The +West," he said, "is the home of loving hearts and neighborly kindness, +where all men's good is each man's care. For myself," he went on, "I +have but one wish, and that is to be the servant of all, to be the +ambassador of Him who went about doing good, and to teach the people to +love honor and virtue, and each other." Then, raising his hands, he led +the company in that prayer that comes ever to the lips of man when all +other prayers seem vain--that prayer that we can all fall back on in +our sore need: + +"Our Father, who art in heaven, +Hallowed be Thy name, +Thy Kingdom come." + +Two hours later a tired but happy and united company sat down to supper +on the grass. At the head of the table sat Thomas Shouldice, radiating +good-will. A huge white pitcher of steaming golden coffee was in his +hand. He poured a cup of it brimming full, and handed it to the little +priest, who sat near him. "Have some coffee, father?" he said. + +Where could such a scene as this be enacted--a Twelfth of July +celebration where a Roman Catholic priest was the principal speaker, +where the company dispersed with the singing of "God Save the King," +led by an American band? + +Nowhere, but in the Northwest of Canada, that illimitable land, with +its great sunlit spaces, where the west wind, bearing on its bosom the +spices of a million flowers, woos the heart of man with a magic spell +and makes him kind and neighborly and brotherly! + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Black Creek Stopping-House, by Nellie McClung + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE *** + +***** This file should be named 10164-8.txt or 10164-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/1/6/10164/ + +Produced by Brendan Lane, carol david and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Black Creek Stopping-House + +Author: Nellie McClung + +Release Date: November 21, 2003 [EBook #10164] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Brendan Lane, carol david and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE + +AND + +OTHER STORIES + +BY + +NELLIE L. McCLUNG + +Copyright, 1912 + +_To the Pioneer Women of the West, who made life tolerable, and even +comfortable, for the others of us; who fed the hungry, advised the +erring, nursed the sick, cheered the dying, comforted the sorrowing, +and performed the last sad rites for the dead; + +The beloved Pioneer Women, old before their time with hard work, +privations, and doing without things, yet in whose hearts there was +always burning the hope of better things to come; + +The godly Pioneer Women, who kept alive the conscience of the +neighborhood, and preserved for us the best traditions of the race; + +To these noble Women of the early days, some of whom we see no more, +for they have entered into their inheritance, this book is respectfully +dedicated by their humble admirer, + +The Author._ + +"_Let me live in a house by the side of the road, and be a friend of +man_." + + + +CONTENTS + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE-- + +CHAPTER + I. The Old Trail + II. The House of Bread + III. The Sailors' Rest + IV. Farm Pupils + V. The Prairie Club-House + VI. The Counter-Irritant + VII. Ladies' Day at the Stopping-House + VIII. Shadows of the Night + IX. His Evil Genius + X. Da's Turn + XI. The Blizzard + XII. When the Day Broke + +THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER + +THE RETURN TICKET + +THE UNGRATEFUL PIGEONS + +YOU NEVER CAN TELL + +A SHORT TALE OF A RABBIT + +THE ELUSIVE VOTE + +THE WAY OF THE WEST + + + + +THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE + + +CHAPTER I. + +_THE OLD TRAIL._ + +When John Corbett strolled leisurely into the Salvation Army meeting in +old Victoria Hall in Winnipeg that night, so many years ago now, there +may have been some who thought he came to disturb the meeting. + +There did not seem to be any atmospheric reason why Mr. Corbett or +anyone else should be abroad, for it was a drizzling cold November +night, and the streets were muddy, as only Winnipeg streets in the old +days could be--none of your light-minded, fickle-hearted, changeable +mud that is mud to-day and dust to-morrow, but the genuine, original, +brush-defying, soap-and-water-proof, north star, burr mud, blacker than +lampblack, stickier than glue! + +Mr. Corbett did not come to disturb the meeting. His reason for +attending lay in a perfectly legitimate desire to see for himself what +it was all about, he being happily possessed of an open mind. + +Mr. Corbett would do anything once, and if he liked it he would do it +again. In the case of the Salvation Army meeting, he liked it. He liked +the music, and the good fellowship, and the swing and the zip of it +all. More still, he liked the blue-eyed Irish girl who sold _War Crys_ +at the door. When he went in he bought one; when he came out he bought +all she had left. + +The next night Mr. Corbett was again at the meeting. On his way in he +bought all the _War Crys_ the blue-eyed Irish girl had. Every minute he +liked her better, and when the meeting was over and an invitation was +given to the anxious ones to "tarry awhile," Mr. Corbett tarried. When +the other cases had been dismissed Mr. Corbett had a long talk with the +captain in charge. + +Mr. Corbett was a gentleman of private means, though he was accustomed +to explain his manner of making a livelihood, when questioned by +magistrates and other interested persons, by saying he was employed in +a livery stable. When further pressed by these insatiably curious +people as to what his duties in the livery stable were, he always +described his position as that of "chamber maid." Here the magistrates +and other questioners thought that Mr. Corbett was disposed to be +facetious, but he was perfectly sincere, and he had described his work +more accurately than they gave him credit for. It might have been more +illuminative if he had said that in the livery stable of Pacer and +Kelly he did the "upstairs" work. + +It was a small but well appointed room in which Mr. Corbett worked. It +had an unobtrusive narrow stairway leading up to it. The only furniture +it contained was several chairs and a round table with a well-concealed +drawer, which opened with a spring, and held four packs and an assorted +variety of chips! Its one window was well provided with a heavy blind. +Here Mr. Corbett was able to accommodate any or all who felt that they +would like to give Fortune a chance to be kind to them. + +The night after Mr. Corbett had attended the Salvation Army meeting, +his "upstairs" room was as dark inside as it always appeared to be on +the outside. Two anxious ones, whose money was troubling them, had to +be turned away disappointed. Mr. Corbett had left word downstairs that +he was going out. + +After Mr. Corbett had explained the situation to the Salvation Army +captain, the captain took a day to consider. Then Mrs. Murphy, mother +of Maggie Murphy who sold _War Crys_, was consulted. Mrs. Murphy had +long been a soldier in the Army, and she had seen so many brands +plucked from the burning that she was not disposed to discourage Mr. +Corbett in his new desire to "do diff'rent." + +Soon after this Mr. Corbett, in his own words, "pulled his freight" +from the Brunswick Hotel, where he had been a long, steady boarder, and +installed himself in the only vacant room in the Murphy house, having +read the black and white card in the parlor window, which proclaimed +"Furnished Rooms and Table Board," and regarding it as a providential +opportunity for him to see Maggie Murphy in action! + +Having watched Maggie Murphy wait on table in the daytime and sell _War +Crys_ at night for a week or more, Mr. Corbett decided he liked her +methods. The way she poised a tray of teacups on her head proclaimed +her a true artist. + +At the end of two weeks Mr. Corbett stated his case to Mrs. Murphy and +Maggie. + +"I've a poor hand," he declared; "but I am willing to play it out if +Maggie will sit opposite me and be my partner. I have only one gift-- +I'm handy with cards and I can deal myself three out of the four aces-- +but that's not much good to a man who tries to earn an honest living. I +am willing to try work--it may be all right for anything I know. If +Maggie will take me I'll promise to leave cards alone, and I'll do +whatever she thinks I ought to do." + +Maggie and her mother took a few days to consider. On one point their +minds were very clear. If Maggie "took" him, he could not keep any of +the money he had won gambling--he would have to start honest. Mr. +Corbett had, fortunately, arrived at the same conclusion himself, so +that point was easily disposed of. + +"It ain't for us to be hard on anyone that's tryin' to do better," said +Maggie's mother, as she rolled out the crust for the dried-apple pies. +"He's wasted his substance, and wasted his days, but who knows but the +Lord can use him yet to His honor and glory. The Lord ain't like us, +havin' to wait until He gets everything to His own likin', but He can +go ahead with whatever comes to His hand. He can do His work with poor +tools, and it's well for Him He can, and well for us, too." + +Maggie Murphy and John Corbett were married. + +John Corbett got a job at once as teamster for a transfer company, and +Maggie followed her mother's example and put a sign of "Table Board" in +the window. They lived in this way for ten years, and in spite of the +dismal prognostications of friends, John Corbett worked industriously, +and did not show any desire to return to his old ways! When he said he +would do what Maggie told him it was not the rash promise of an eager +lover, for Mr. Corbett was never rash, and the subsequent years showed +that his purpose was honest to fulfil it to the letter. + +Maggie, being many years his junior, could not think of addressing him +by his first name, and she felt that it was not seemly to use the +prefix, so again she followed her mother's example, and addressed him +as her mother did Murphy, senior, as "Da." + +It was in the early eighties that Maggie and John Corbett decided to +come farther west. The cry of free land for the asking was coming to +many ears, and at Maggie's table it was daily discussed. They sold out +the contents of their house, and, purchasing oxen and a covered wagon, +they made the long overland journey. On the bank of Black Creek they +pitched their tent, and before a week had gone by Maggie Corbett was +giving meals to hungry men, cooking bannocks, frying pork, and making +coffee on her little sheet-iron camp-stove, no bigger than a biscuit- +box. + +The next year, when the railroad came to Brandon, and the wheat was +drawn in from as far south as Lloyd's Lake, the Black Creek Stopping- +House became a far-famed and popular establishment. + + +CHAPTER II. + +_THE HOUSE OF BREAD_. + +Across the level plain which lies between the valley of the Souris and +the valley of the Assiniboine there ran, at this time, three trails. +There was the deeply-rutted old Hudson Bay trail, over which went the +fabulously heavy loads of fur long ago--grass-grown now and broken with +badger holes; there was "the trail," hard and firm, in the full pride +of present patronage, defying the invasion of the boldest blade of +grass; and by the side of it, faint and shadowy, like a rainbow's +understudy, ran "the new trail," strong in the certainty of being the +trail in time. + +For miles across the plain the men who follow the trail watch the steep +outlying shoulder of the Brandon Hills for a landmark. When they leave +the Souris valley the hills are blue with distance and seem to promise +wooded slopes, and maybe leaping streams, but a half-day's journey +dispels the illusion, for when the traveller comes near enough to see +the elevation as it is, it is only a rugged bluff, bald and bare, and +blotched with clumps of mangy grass, with a fringe of stunted poplar at +the base. + +After rounding the shoulder of the hill, the thick line of poplars and +elms which fringe the banks of Black Creek comes into view, and many a +man and horse have suddenly brightened at the sight, for in the shelter +of the trees there stands the Black Creek Stopping-House, which is the +half-way house on the way to Brandon. Hungry men have smelled the bacon +frying when more than a mile away, and it is only the men who follow +the trail who know what a heartsome smell that is. The horses, too, +tired with the long day, point their ears ahead and step livelier when +they see the whitewashed walls gleaming through the trees. + +The Black Creek Stopping-House gave not only food and shelter to the +men who teamed the wheat to market--it gave them good fellowship and +companionship. In the absence of newspapers it kept its guests abreast +with the times; events great and small were discussed there with +impartial deliberation, and often with surprising results. Actions and +events which seemed quite harmless, and even heroic, when discussed +along the trail, often changed their complexion entirely when Mrs. +Maggie Corbett let in the clear light of conscience on them, for even +on the very edge of civilization there are still to be found finger- +posts on the way to right living. + +Mrs. Maggie Corbett was a finger-post, and more, for a finger-post +merely points the way with its wooden finger, and then, figuratively, +retires from the scene to let you think it over; but Maggie Corbett +continued to take an interest in the case until it was decided to her +entire satisfaction. + +Black Creek, on whose wooded bank the Stopping-House stands, is a deep +black stream which makes its way leisurely across the prairie between +steep banks. Here and there throughout its length are little shallow +stretches which show a golden braid down the centre like any peaceful +meadow brook where children may with safety float their little boats, +but Black Creek, with its precipitous holes, is no safe companion for +any living creature that has not webbed toes or a guardian angel. + +The banks, which are of a spongy black loam, grow a heavy crop of +coarse meadow grass, interspersed in the late summer with the umbrella- +like white clusters of water hemlock. + + * * * * * + +About a mile from the Stopping-House there stood a strange log +structure, the present abode of Reginald and Randolph Brydon, late of +H.M. Navy, but now farmers and homesteaders. The house was built in +that form of architecture known as a "Red River frame," and the corners +were finished in the fashion called "saddle and notch." + +Whatever can be done to a house to spoil its appearance had been done +to this one. There was a "join" in each side, which was intended, and a +bulge which was accidental, and when the sailor brothers were unable to +make a log lie comfortably beside its neighbor by using the axe, they +resorted to long iron spikes, and when these split the logs, as was +usually the case, they overcame the difficulty by using ropes. + +What had brought the Brydon brothers to Manitoba was a matter of +conjecture in the Black Creek neighborhood. Some said they probably +were not wanted at home; others, with deeper meaning, said they +probably _were_ wanted at home; and, indeed, their bushy eyebrows, +their fierce black eyes, the knives which they carried in their belts, +and their general manner of living, gave some ground to this +insinuation. + +The Brydon brothers did not work with that vigor and zeal which brings +success to the farmer. They began late and quit early, with numerous +rests in between. They showed a delightfully child-like trust in Nature +and her methods, for in the springtime, instead of planting their +potatoes in the ground the way they saw other people doing it, they +sprinkled them around the "fireguard," believing that the birds of the +air strewed leaves over them, or the rain washed them in, or in some +mysterious way they made a bed for themselves in the soil. + +They bought a cow from one of the neighbors, but before the summer was +over brought her back indignantly, declaring that she would give no +milk. Randolph declared that he knew she had it, for she had plenty the +last time he milked her, and that was several days ago--she should have +more now. It came out in the evidence that they only took from the cow +the amount of milk that they needed, reasoning that she had a better +way of keeping it than they had. The cow's former owner exonerated her +from all blame in the matter, saying that "Rosie" was all right as a +cow; but, of course, she was "no bloomin' refrigerator!" + +There was only one day in the week when the Brydon brothers could work +with any degree of enjoyment, and that was on Sunday, when there was +the added zest of wickedness. To drive the oxen up and down the field +in full view of an astonished and horrified neighborhood seemed to take +away in large measure from the "beastliness of labor," and then, too, +the Sabbath calm of the Black Creek valley seemed to stimulate their +imagination as they discoursed loudly and elaborately on the present +and future state of the oxen, consigning them without hope of release +to the remotest and hottest corner of Gehenna. But the complacent old +oxen, graduates in the school of hard knocks and mosquitoes, winked +solemnly, switched their tails and drowsed along unmoved. + +The sailors had been doing various odd jobs around the house on Sundays +ever since they came, but had not worked openly until one particular +Sunday in May. All day they hoped that someone would come and stop them +from working, or at least beg of them to desist, but the hot afternoon +wore away, and there was no movement around any of the houses on the +plain. The guardian of the morals of the neighborhood, Mrs. Maggie +Corbett, had taken notice of them all right, but she was a wise woman +and did not use militant methods until she had tried all others; and +she believed that she had other means of teaching the sailor twins the +advantages of Sabbath observance. + +About five o'clock the twins grew so uproariously hungry they were +compelled to quit their labors, but when they reached their house they +were horrified to find that a wandering dog, who also had no respect +for the Sabbath, had depleted their "grub-box," overlooking nothing but +the tea and sugar, which he had upset and spilled when he found he did +not care to eat them. + +Then it was the oxen's turn to laugh, for the twins' wrath was all +turned upon each other. Everything that they had said about the oxen, +it seemed, was equally true of each other--each of them had confidently +expected the other one to lock the door. + +There was nothing to do but to go across to the Black Creek Stopping- +House for supplies. Mrs. Corbett baked bread for them each week. + +Reginald, with a gun on his shoulder, and rolling more than ever in his +walk, strolled into the kitchen of the Stopping-House and made known +his errand. He also asked for the loan of a neck-yoke, having broken +his in a heated argument with the "starboard" ox. + +Mrs. Corbett, with a black dress and white apron on, sat, with folded +hands, in the rocking-chair. "Da" Corbett, with his "other clothes" on +and his glasses far down on his nose, sat in another rocking-chair +reading the life of General Booth. Peter Rockett, the chore boy, in a +clean pair of overalls, and with hair-oil on his hair, sat on the edge +of the wood-box twanging a Jew's-harp, and the tune that he played bore +a slight resemblance to "Pull for the Shore." + +Randolph felt the Sunday atmosphere, but, nevertheless, made known his +errand. + +"The bread is yours," said Mrs. Corbett, sternly; "you may have it, but +I can't bake any more for you!" + +"W'y not?" asked Reginald, feeling all at once hungrier than ever. + +"Of course I am not saying you can help it," Mrs. Corbett went on, +ignoring his question. "I suppose, maybe, you do the best you can. I +believe everybody does, if we only knew it, and you haven't had a very +good chance either, piratin' among the black heathen in the islands of +the sea; but the Bible speaks plain, and old Captain Coombs often told +us not to be unequally yoked with unbelievers, and I can't encourage +Sunday-breakin' by cookin' for them that do it!" + +"We weren't breakin', really we were only back-settin'," interposed +Reginald, quickly. + +"I don't wish to encourage Sabbath-breakin'," repeated Mrs. Corbett, +raising her voice a little to prevent interruptions, "by bakin' for +people who do it, or neighborin' with people who do it. Of course there +are some who say that the amount of work that you and your brother do +any day would not break the Sabbath." Here she looked hard at her man, +John Corbett, who stirred uneasily. "But there is no mistakin' your +meanin', and besides," Mrs. Corbett went on, "we have others besides +ourselves to think of--there's the child," indicating the lanky Peter +Rockett. + +The "child" thus alluded to closed one eye--the one farthest from Mrs. +Corbett--for a fraction of a second, and kept on softly teasing the +Jew's-harp. + +"Now you need not glare at me so fierce, you twin." Mrs. Corbett's +voice was still full of Sunday calm. "I do not know which one of you +you are, but anyway what I say applies to you both. Now take that look +off your face and stay and eat. I'll send something home to your other +one, too." + +Having delivered her ultimatum on the subject of Sunday work, Mrs. +Corbett became quite genial. She heaped Reginald's plate with cold +chicken and creamed potatoes, and, mellowed by them and the comfort of +her well-appointed table, he was prepared to renounce the devil and all +his works if Mrs. Corbett gave the order. + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_THE SAILORS' REST_. + +When Reginald reached home he found his brother in a state of mind +bordering on frenzy, but when he shoved the basket which Mrs. Corbett +had filled for him toward Randolph with the unnecessary injunction to +"stow it in his hold," the lion's mouth was effectively closed. When he +had finished the last crumb Reginald told him Mrs. Corbett's decree +regarding Sunday work, and found that Randolph was prepared to abstain +from all forms of labor on all days in the week if she wished it. + +That night, after the twins had washed the accumulated stock of dishes, +and put patches on their overalls with pieces of canvas and a sail +needle, and performed the many little odd jobs which by all accepted +rules of ethics belong to Sunday evening's busy work, they sat beside +the fire and indulged in great depression of spirits! + +"She can't live forever," Reginald broke out at last with apparent +irrelevance. But there was no irrelevance--his remark was perfectly in +order. + +He was referring to a dear aunt in Bournemouth. This lady, who was +possessed of "funds," had once told her loving nephews--the twins--that +if they would go away and stay away she might--do something for them-- +by and by. She had urged them so strongly to go to Canada that they +could not, under the circumstances, do otherwise. Aunt Patience Brydon +shared the delusion that is so blissfully prevalent among parents and +guardians of wayward youth in England, that to send them to Canada will +work a complete reformation, believing that Canada is a good, kind +wilderness where iced tea is the strongest drink known, and where no +more exciting game than draughts is ever played. + +Aunt Patience, though a frail-looking little white-haired lady, had, it +seemed, a wonderful tenacity of life. + +"She'll slip her cable some day," Reginald declared soothingly. "She +can't hold out much longer--you know the last letter said she was +failin' fast." + +"Failin' fast!" Randolph broke in impatiently. "It's us that's failin' +fast! And maybe when we've waited and waited, and stayed away for 'er, +she'll go and leave it all to some Old Cats' 'Ome or Old Hens' Roost, +or some other beastly charity. I don't trust 'er--'any woman that 'olds +on to life the way she does--'er with one foot in the grave, and 'er +will all made and everything ready." + +"Well, she can't last always," Reginald declared, holding firmly to +this one bit of comfort. + +The next news they got from Bournemouth was positively alarming! She +was getting better. Then the twins lost hope entirely and decided to +treat Aunt Patience as one already dead--figuratively speaking, to turn +her picture to the wall. + +"Let her live as long as she likes," Reginald declared, "if she's so +jolly keen on it!" + +When they decided to trust no more to the deceitfulness of woman they +turned to another quarter for help, for they were, at this time, +"uncommonly low in funds." + +It was Randolph who got the idea, one day when he was sitting on the +plow handle lighting his pipe. + +"Wot's the matter with us gettin' out Fred for our farm pupil? He's got +some money--they say he married a rich man's daughter--and we've got +the experience!" + +"He's only a 'alf-brother!" said Reginald, at last, reflectively. + +"That don't matter one bit to me," declared Randolph, generously, "I'll +treat him just the same as I would you!" + +Reginald shrugged his shoulders eloquently. + +"What about his missus?" asked Reginald, after a silence. + +"She can come," Randolph said, magnanimously. "We'll build a piece to +the house." + +The more they talked about it the more enthusiastic they became. Under +the glow of this new project they felt they could hurl contempt on Aunt +Patience and her unnatural hold on life. + +"I don't know but what I would rather take 'elp from the livin' than +the dead, anyway," Reginald said, virtuously, that night before they +went to bed. + +"They're more h'apt to ask it back, just the same," objected Randolph. + +"I was just goin' to say," Reginald began again, "that I'd just as soon +take 'elp from the livin' as the dead, especially when there ain't no +dead!" + +They began at once to write letters to their long-neglected brother +Fred, enthusiastically setting forth the charms of this new country. +They dwelt on the freedom of the life, the abundance of game, and the +view! They made a great deal of the view, and certainly there was +nothing to obstruct it, for the prairie lay a dead level for ten miles +north of them, only dotted here and there with little weather-bleached +warts of houses like their own, where other optimists were trying to +make a dint in the monotony. + +The letters which went east every mail were splendid productions in +their way, written with ease and eloquence, and utterly untrammeled by +any regard for facts. + +Their brother responded just as they hoped he would, and the twins were +greatly delighted with the success of their plan. + +Events of which the twins knew nothing favored their project and made +Fred and his wife glad to leave Toronto. Evelyn Grant had bitterly +estranged her father by marrying against his wishes. So the proposal +from Randolph and Reginald that they come West and take the homestead +near them seemed to offer an escape from much that was unpleasant. +Besides, it was just at the time when so many people were hearing the +call of the West. + +At the suggestion of his brothers, Fred sent in advance the money to +build a house on his homestead. But the twins, not wishing to make any +mistake, or to have any misunderstanding with Fred, built it right +beside their own. Fred sent enough money to have a frame building put +up but the twins decided that logs were more romantic and cheaper. It +was a remarkable structure when they were through with it, stuck +against their own house, as if by accident, and resembling in its +irregularity the growth of a freak potato. Cables were freely used; +binder twine served as hinges on the doors and also as latches. + +They gave as a reason for sticking the new part against their own +irregularly that they intended to use the alcoves for verandahs! + +They agreed to put in Fred's crop for him--for a consideration; to put +up hay; to buy oxen. Indeed, so many kindly offices did they agree to +perform for him that Fred had advanced them, in all, nearly two +thousand dollars. + +The preparations were watched with great interest by the neighbors, and +the probable outcome of it all was often a topic of conversation at the +Black Creek Stopping-House. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +_FARM PUPILS_. + +June in Manitoba, when the tender green of grass and leaf is bathed in +the sparkling sunshine; when the first wild roses are spilling their +perfume on the air, and the first orange lilies are lifting their glad +faces to the sun; when the prairie chicken, intent on family cares, +runs cautiously beside the road, and the hermit thrushes from the +thickets drive their sweet notes into the quiet evening. It is a time +to remember lovingly and with sweet gratitude; a time when the love of +the open prairie overtakes us, and binds us fast in golden fetters. +There is no hint of the cruel winter that is waiting just around the +corner, or of the dull autumn drizzle closer still; there is nothing +but peace and warmth and beauty. + +As the old "Cheyenne," the only sidewheeler on the Assiniboine, +churning the muddy water into creamy foam, made its way to the green +shore at Curry's Landing, Fred and Evelyn Brydon, standing on the +narrow deck, felt the grip of the place and the season. Even the +captain's picturesque language, as he directed the activities of the +"rousters" who pulled the boat ashore, seemed less like profanity and +more like figure of speech. + +The twins had made several unfruitful journeys to the Landing for their +brother and his wife, for they began to go two days before the +"Cheyenne" was expected, and had been going twice a day since, all of +which had been carefully entered in their account book! + +Their appearance as they stood on the shore, sneering at the captain's +directions to his men from the superior height of their nautical +experience, was warlike in the extreme, although they were clothed in +the peaceful overalls and smock of the farmer and also had submitted to +a haircut at the earnest instigation of Mrs. Corbett, who threatened to +cut off all bread-making unless her wishes were complied with! + +Evelyn, who had never seen her brothers-in-law, looked upon them now in +wonder, and she could see their appearance was somewhat of a surprise +to Fred, who had not seen them for many years, and who remembered them +only as the heroes of his childhood days. + +They greeted Fred hilariously, but to his wife they spoke timidly, for, +brave as they were in facing Spanish pirates, they were timid to the +point of flight in the presence of women. + +As they drove home in the high-boxed wagon, the twins endeavored to +keep up the breezy enthusiasm that had characterized their letters. +They raved about the freedom of the West; they went into fresh raptures +over the view, and almost deranged their respiratory organs in their +praises of the air. They breathed in deep breaths of the ambient +atmosphere, chewed it up with loud smacks of enjoyment, and then blew +it out, snorting like whales. Evelyn, who was not without a sense of +humor, would have enjoyed it all, and laughed _at_ them, even if she +could not laugh with them, if she could have forgotten that they were +her husband's brothers, but it is very hard to see the humorous in the +grotesque behavior of those to whom we are "bound by the ties of duty," +if not affection. + +A good supper at the Black Creek Stopping-House and the hearty +hospitality of Mrs. Corbett restored Evelyn's good spirits. She +noticed, too, that the twins tamed down perceptibly in Mrs. Corbett's +presence. + +Mrs. Corbett insisted on Fred and his wife spending the night at the +Stopping-House. + +"Don't go to your own house until morning," she said. "Things look a +lot different when the sun is shining, and out here, you see, Mrs. +Fred, we have to do without and forget so many things that we bank a +lot on the sun. You people who live in cities, you've got gas and big +lamps, and I guess it doesn't bother you much whether the sun rises or +doesn't rise, or what he does, you're independent; but with us it is +different. The sun is the best thing we've got, and we go by him +considerable. Providence knows how it is with us, and lets us have lots +of the sun, winter and summer." + +Evelyn gladly consented to stay. + +Mrs. Corbett, observing Evelyn's soft white hands, decided that she was +not accustomed to work, and the wonder of how it would all turn out was +heavy upon her kind Irish heart as she said goodbye to her next +morning. + +A big basket of bread and other provisions was put into the wagon at +the last minute. "Maybe your stove won't be drawin' just right at the +first," said Maggie Corbett, apologetically. As she watched Evelyn's +hat of red roses fading in the distance she said softly to herself: +"Sure I do hope it's true that He tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, +tho' there's some that says that ain't in the Bible at all. But it +sounds nice and kind anyway, and yon poor lamb needs all the help He +can give her. Him and me, we'll have to do the best we can for her!" + +Mrs. Corbett went over to see her new neighbor two or three days after. +In response to her knock on the rough lumber door, a thin little voice +called to her to enter, which she did. + +On the bare floor stood an open trunk from which a fur-trimmed pale +pink opera cloak hung carelessly. Beside the trunk in an attitude of +homesickness huddled the young woman, hair dishevelled, eyes red. Her +dress of green silk, embroidered stockings and beaded slippers looked +out of place and at variance with her primitive surroundings. + +When Mrs. Corbett entered the room she sprang up hastily and apologized +for the untidiness of her house. She chattered gaily to hide the +trouble in her face, and Mrs. Corbett wisely refrained from any +apparent notice of her tears, and helped her to unpack her trunks and +set the house to rights. + +Mrs. Corbett showed her how to make a combined washstand and clothes +press out of two soap boxes, how to make a wardrobe out of the head of +the bed, and set the twin sailors at the construction of a cookhouse +where the stove could be put. + +When Mrs. Corbett left that afternoon it was a brighter and more +liveable dwelling. Coming home along the bank of Black Creek, she was +troubled in mind and heart for her new neighbor. + +"This is June," she said to herself, "and wild roses are crowdin' up to +her door, and the meadow larks are sittin' round all over blinkin' at +the sun, and she has her man with her, and she ain't tired with the +work, and her hands ain't cracked and sore, and she hasn't been there +long enough to dislike the twins the way she will when she knows them +better, and there's no mosquitoes, and she hasn't been left to stay +alone, and still she cries! God help us! What will she do in the long +drizzle in the fall, when the wheat's spoilin' in the shock maybe, and +the house is dark, and her man's away--what _will_ she do?" + +Mrs. Brydon spent many happy hours that summer at the Stopping-House, +and soon Mrs. Corbett knew all the events of her past life; the +sympathetic understanding of the Irish woman made it easy for her to +tell many things. Her mother had died when she was ten years old, and +since then she had been her father's constant companion until she met +Fred Brydon. + +She could not understand, and so bitterly resented, her father's +dislike of Fred, not knowing that his fond old heart was torn with +jealousy. She and her father were too much alike to ever arrive at an +understanding, for both were proud and quick-tempered and imperious, +and so each day the breach grew wider. Just a word, a caress, an +assurance from her that she loved him still, that the new love had not +driven out the old, would have set his heart at rest, but with the +cruel thoughtlessness of youth she could see only one side of the +affair, and that her own. + +At last she ran away and was married to the young man, whom her father +had never allowed her to bring to see him, and the proud old man was +left alone in his dreary mansion, brooding over what he called the +heartlessness of his only child. + +Mrs. Corbett, with her quick understanding, was sorry for both of them, +and at every opportunity endeavored to turn Evelyn's thoughts towards +home. Once, at her earnest appeal, after she had got the young woman +telling her about how kind her father had been to her when her mother +died, Evelyn consented to write him a letter, but when it was finished, +with a flash of her old imperious pride, she tore it across and flung +the pieces on the floor, then hastily gathered them up and put them in +the stove. + +One half sheet of the letter did not share the fate of the remainder, +for Mrs. Corbett intercepted it and hastily hid it in her apron pocket. +She might need it, she thought. + + + +CHAPTER V. + +_THE PRAIRIE CLUB-HOUSE._ + +The tender green of the early summer deepened and ripened into the +golden tinge of autumn as over the Black Creek Valley the mantle of +harvest was spread. + +Only a small portion of the valley was under cultivation, for the +oldest settler had been in only for three years; but it seemed as if +every grain sowed had fallen upon good soil and gave promise of the +hundredfold. + +Across John Corbett's ten acres of wheat and forty acres of oats the +wind ran waves of shadow all day long, and the pride of the land-owner +thrilled Maggie Corbett's heart over and over again. + +Not that the lady of the Stopping-House took the time to stand around +and enjoy the sensation, for the busy time was coming on and many +travellers were moving about and must be fed. But while she scraped the +new potatoes with lightning speed, or shelled the green peas, all of +her own garden, her thoughts were full of that peace and reverent +gratitude that comes to those who plant the seed and see it grow. + +It was a glittering day in early August; a light shower the night +before had washed the valley clean of dust, and now the hot harvest sun +poured down his ripening rays over the pulsating earth. To the south +the Brandon Hills shimmered in a pale gray mirage. Over the trees which +sheltered the Stopping-House a flock of black crows circled in the blue +air, croaking and complaining that the harvest was going to be late. On +the wire-fence that circled the haystack sat a row of red-winged +blackbirds like a string of jet beads, patiently waiting for the oats +to ripen and indulging in low-spoken but pleasant gossip about all the +other birds in the valley. + +Within doors Mrs Corbett served dinner to a long line of stoppers. Many +of the "boys" she had not seen since the winter before, and while she +worked she discussed neighborhood matters with them, the pleasing +sizzle of eggs frying on a hot pan making a running accompaniment to +her words. + +The guests at Mrs. Corbett's table were a typical pioneer group-- +homesteaders, speculators, machine men journeying through the country +to sell machinery to harvest the grain not yet grown; the farmer has +ever been well endowed with hope, and the machine business flourishes. + +Mrs. Corbett could talk and work at the same time, her sudden +disappearances from the room as she replenished the table merely +serving as punctuation marks, and not interfering with the thread of +the story at all. + +When she was compelled by the exigencies of the case to be present in +the kitchen, and therefore absent in the dining-room, she merely +elevated her voice to overcome distance, and dropped no stitch in the +conversation. + +"New neighbor, is it, you are sayin', Tom? 'Deed and I have, and her +the purtiest little trick you ever saw--diamond rings on her, and silk +skirts, and plumes on her hat, and hair as yalla as gold." + +"When she comes over here I can't be doin' my work for lookin' at her. +She was brought up with slathers of money." This came back from the +"cheek of the dure", where Mrs. Corbett was emptying the tea leaves from +the teapot. "But the old man, beyant, ain't been pleased with her since +she married this Fred chap--he wouldn't ever look at Fred, nor let him +come to the house, and so she ran away with him, and no one could blame +her either for that, and now her and the old man don't write at all, at +all--reach me the bread plate in front of you there, Jim--and there's +bad blood between them. I can see, though, her and the old man are fond +o' one another!" + +"Is her man anything like the twin pirates?" asked Sam Moggey from Oak +Creek; "because if he is I don't blame the old man for being mad about +it." Sam was helping himself to another quarter of vinegar pie as he +spoke. + +Mrs. Corbett could not reply for a minute, for she was putting a new +bandage on Jimmy MacCaulay's finger, and she had the needle and thread +in her mouth. + +"Not a bit like them, Sam," she said, as soon as she had the bandage in +place, and as she put in quick stitches; "no more like them than day is +like night--he's only a half-brother, and a lot younger. He's a +different sort altogether from them two murderin' villains that sits in +the house all day playin' cards. He's a good, smart fellow, and has +done a lot of breakin' and cleanin' up since he came. What he thinks of +the other two lads I don't know--she never says, but I'd like fine to +know." + +"Sure, you'll soon know then, Maggie," said "Da" Corbett, bringing in +another platter of bacon and eggs and refilling the men's plates. +"Don't worry." + +In the laugh that followed Maggie Corbett joined as heartily as any of +them. + +"Go 'long with you, Da!" she cried; "sure you're just as anxious as I +am to know. We all think a lot of Fred and Mrs. Fred," she went on, +bringing in two big dishes of potatoes; "and if you could see that +poor, precious lamb trying to cook pork and beans with a little wisp of +an apron on, all lace and ribbons, and big diamonds on her fingers, +you'd be sorry for her, and you'd say, 'What kind of an old tyrant is +the old man down beyant, and why don't he take her and Fred back?' It's +not wrastlin' round black pots she should be, and she's never been any +place all summer only over here, for they've only the oxen, and altho' +she never says anything, I'll bet you she'd like a bit of a drive, or +to get out to some kind of a-doin's, or the like of that." + +While Mrs. Corbett gaily rattled on there was one man at her table who +apparently took no notice of what she said. + +He was a different type of man from all the others. Dark complexioned, +with swarthy skin and compelling black eyes, he would be noticeable in +any company. He was dressed in the well-cut clothes of a city man, and +carried himself with a certain air of distinction. + +Happening to notice the expression on his face, Mrs. Corbett suddenly +changed the conversation, and during the remainder of the meal watched +him closely with a puzzled and distrustful look. + +When the men had gone that day and John Corbett came in to have his +afternoon rest on the lounge in the kitchen, he found Maggie in a self- +reproachful mood. + +"Da," she began, "the devil must have had a fine laugh to himself when +he saw the Lord puttin' a tongue in a woman's head. Did ye hear me +to-day, talking along about that purty young thing beyant, and Rance +Belmont takin' in every word of it? Sure and I never thought of him +bein' here until I noticed the look on that ugly mug of his, and mind +you, Da, there's people that call him good-lookin' with that heavy jowl +of his and the hair on him growin' the wrong way on his head, and them +black eyes of his the color of the dirt in the road. They do say he's +just got a bunch of money from the old country, and he's cuttin' a wide +swath with it. If I'd kept me mouth shut he'd have gone on to Brandon +and never knowed a word about there being a purty young thing near. But +I watched him hitchin' up, and didn't he drive right over there; and I +tell you, Da, he means no good." + +"Don't worry, Maggie," John Corbett said, soothingly. "He can't pick +her up and run off with her. Mrs. Fred's no fool." + +"He's a divil!" Maggie declared with conviction. "Mind you, Da, there +ain't many that can put the comaudher on me, but Rance Belmont done it +once." + +Mr. Corbett looked up with interest and waited for her to speak. + +"It was about the card-playin'. You know I've never allowed a card in +me house since I had a house, and never intended to, but the last day +Rance Belmont was here--that was away last spring, when you were away-- +he begins to play with one of the boys that was in for dinner. Right in +there on the sewin'-machine in plain sight of all of us I saw them, and +I wiped me hands and tied up me apron, and I walked in, and says I, +'I'll be obliged to you, Mr. Belmont, to put them by,' and I looked at +him, stiff as pork. 'Why, certainly, Mrs. Corbett,' says he, smilin' at +me as if I had said somethin' pleasant. I felt a little bit ashamed, +and went on to sort of explain about bein' brought up in the Army and +all that, and he talked so nice about the Army that you would have +thought it was old Major Morris come back again from the dead, and +pretty soon he had me talkin' away to him and likin' him; and says he, +'I was just going to show Jimmy here a funny trick that can be done +with cards, but,' says he, 'if Mrs. Corbett objects I wouldn't offend +her for the world!' Now here's the part that scares me, Da--me, Maggie +Murphy, that hates cards like I do the divil; says I to him, 'Oh, go +on, Mr. Belmont; I don't mind at all!' Now what do you think of that, +Da?" + +John Corbett sat thinking, but he was not thinking of what Maggie +thought he was thinking. He was wondering what trick it was that Rance +Belmont had showed Jimmy Peters! + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +_THE COUNTER-IRRITANT._ + +When Fred Brydon made the discovery that his two brothers spent a great +deal of their time in the pleasant though unprofitable occupation of +card-playing with two or three of the other impecunious young men of +the neighborhood, he remonstrated with them on this apparent waste of +time. When he later discovered that they were becoming so engrossed in +the game that they had but little time to plant, sow or reap, or do any +of the things incidental to farm life, he became very indignant indeed. + +The twins naturally resented any such interference from their farm +pupil. They told him that he was there to learn farming, and not to +give advice to his elders. + +Nearly everyone agrees that card playing is a pleasant and effective +way of killing time for people who wait for a long delayed train at a +lonely wayside station. This is exactly the position in which the twins +found themselves. So, while Aunt Patience, of Bournemouth, tarried and +procrastinated, her loving nephews across the sea, thinking of her +night and day, waited with as good grace as they could and played the +game! + +Unlike the twins, Fred Brydon liked hard work, and applied himself with +great energy to the work of the farm, determined to disprove his angry +father-in-law's words that he would never make a success of anything. + +The fact that the twins were playing for money gave Fred some uneasy +moments, and the uncomfortable suspicion that part of his money was +being used in this way kept growing upon him. + +He did not mention any of these things to Evelyn, for he knew it was +hard for her to keep up friendly relations with Reginald and Randolph, +and he did not want to say anything that would further predispose her +against them. + +However, Evelyn, with some of her father's shrewdness, was arriving at +a very correct estimate of the twins without any help from anyone. + +The twins had enjoyed life much better since the coming of their +brother and his wife. They quite enjoyed looking out of the fly-specked +window at their brother at work with the oxen in the fields. Then, too, +the many flattering remarks made by their friends in regard to their +sister-in-law's beauty were very grateful to their ears. + +One day, in harvest time, when something had gone wrong with their +binder, and Fred had sent to Brandon for a new knotter, the twins +refused to pay for it when it came, telling him that he could pay for +it himself. Fred paid for it and worked all afternoon without saying +anything, but that evening he came into their part of the house and +told them he wanted a detailed statement of how his money had been +spent. + +The twins were thoroughly hurt and indignant. Did he think they had +cheated him? And they asked each other over and over again, "Did +anybody ever hear of such ingratitude?" + +The next day Evelyn made a remark which quite upset them. She told them +that if Fred did all the work he should have more than half the crop. + +The twins did not like these occurrences. Instinctively they felt that +a storm was coming. They began to wonder what would be the best way to +avoid trouble. + +The prairie-dwellers have a way of fighting a prairie fire which is +very effective. When they see the blue veil of smoke lying close to the +horizon, or the dull red glare on the night sky, they immediately start +another fire to go out and meet the big fire! + +Some such thought as this was struggling in the twins' brains the day +that Rance Belmont came over from the Stopping-House, and in his +graceful way asked Mrs. Brydon to go driving with him, an invitation +which Fred urged her to accept. When the drive was over and Rance came +in to the twins' apartments, and on their invitation had a game with +them and lost, they were suddenly smitten with an idea. They began to +see how it might be possible to start another fire! + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +_LADIES' DAY AT THE STOPPING-HOUSE._ + +The glory of the summer paled and faded; the crimson and gold of the +harvest days had fled before the cold winds of autumn, and now the +trees along the bank of the creek stood leafless and bare, trembling +and swaying as if in dread of the long winter that would soon be upon +them. The harvest had been cut and gathered in, and now, when the +weather was fine, the industrious hum of the threshing-machine came on +the wind for many miles, and the column of blue smoke which proclaimed +the presence of a "mill" shot up in all directions. + +At the Black Creek Stopping-House the real business of the year had +begun, for every day heavily-loaded wheat wagons wound slowly over the +long trail on their way to Brandon, and the Stopping-House became the +foregathering place of all the farmers in the settlement. At noon the +stable yard presented a lively appearance as the "boys" unhitched their +steaming teams and led them to the long, straggling straw-roofed +stables. The hay that John Corbett had cut on the meadows of Black +Creek and stacked beside the stables was carried in miniature stacks +which completely hid the man who carried them into the mangers, while +the creaking windlass of the well proclaimed that the water-troughs +were being filled. The cattle who foraged through the straw stack in +the field near by always made the mistake of thinking that they were +included in the invitation, much to the disgust of Peter Rockett, the +chore boy, who drove them back with appropriate remarks. + +Inside of the Stopping-House the long dining-room, called "the room," +was a scene of great activity. The long oilcloth-covered table down the +centre of the "room" was full of smoking dishes of potatoes and ham and +corned beef, and piled high with bread and buns; tin teapots were at +each end of the table and were passed from hand to hand. There were +white bowls filled with stewed prunes and apricots and pitchers of +"Goldendrop" syrup at intervals down the table. + +Table etiquette was fairly well observed--the person who took the last +of the potatoes was in duty bound to take the dish out to the kitchen +and replenish it from the black pot which stood on its three legs on +the back of the kitchen stove. The same rule applied to the tea and the +bread. Also when one had finished his meal the correct plan of +procedure was to gather up his plate, knife and fork and cup and saucer +and carry them out to the kitchen, where Mrs. Corbett or Peter Rockett +hastily washed them to be ready for the next one. + +When entering the Black Creek dining-room with the purpose of having a +meal there were certain small conventions to be observed. If a place +was already set, the newcomer could with impunity sit down and proceed +with the order of business; if there was no place set, but room for a +place to be set, the hungry one came out to the kitchen and selected +what implements he needed in the way of plate and knife and proceeded +to the vacancy; if there was not a vacant place at the table, the +newcomer retired to the window and read the _Northern Messenger_ or the +_War Cry_, which were present in large numbers on the sewing-machine. +But before leaving the table conversation zone, it was considered +perfectly legitimate to call out in a loud voice: "Some eat fast, some +eat long, and some eat both ways," or some such bright and felicitous +remark. It was a bitter cold day in November--one of those dark, cold +days with a searching wind, just before the snow comes. In Mrs. +Corbett's kitchen there was an unusual bustle and great excitement, for +the women from the Tiger Hills were there--three of them on their way +to Brandon. Mrs. Corbett said it always made her nervous to cook for +women. You can't fool them on a bad pudding by putting on a good sauce, +the way you can a man. But Mrs. Corbett admitted it was good to see +them anyway. + +There was Mrs. Berry and her sister, Miss Thornley, and Mrs. Smith. +They had ridden fifteen miles on a load of wheat, and had yet another +fifteen to go to reach their destination. In spite of a long, cold and +very slow ride, the three ladies were in splendid condition, and as +soon as they were thawed out enough to talk, and long before their +teeth stopped chattering, they began to ask about Mrs. Corbett's +neighbor, young Mrs. Brydon, in such a way, that, as Mrs. Corbett +afterwards explained to Da Corbett, "you could tell they had heard +something." + +"Our lads saw her over at the Orangemen's ball in Millford, and they +said Rance Belmont was with her more than her own man," said Mrs. +Berry, as she melted the frost from her eyebrows by holding her face +over the stove. + +"Oh, well," Mrs. Corbett said, "I guess all the young fellows were +makin' a lot of her, but sure there's no harm in that." + +Miss Thornley was too busy examining her feet for possible frostbites +to give in her contribution just then, but after she had put her +coldest foot in a wash-basin of water she said, "I don't see how any +woman can go the length of her toe with Rance Belmont, but young Mrs. +Brydon went to Brandon with him last week, for my sister's husband +heard it from somebody that had seen them. I don't know how she can do +it." + +Mrs. Corbett was mashing potatoes with a gem-jar, and without stopping +her work she said: "Oh, well, Miss Thornley, it's easy for you and me +to say we would not go out with Rance Belmont, but maybe that's mostly +because we have never had the chance. He's got a pretty nice way with +him, Rance has, and I guess if he came along now with his sorrel pacer +and says to you, 'Come on, Miss Thornley,' you would get on that boot +and stocking in two jiffies and be off with him like any young girl!" + +Miss Thornley mumbled a denial, and an angry light shone in her pale +blue eyes. + +Mrs. Smith was also full of the subject, and while she twisted her hair +into a small "nub" about the size, shape and color of a peanut, she +expressed her views. + +"It ain't decent for her to be goin' round with Rance Belmont the way +she does, and they say at the dance at Millford she never missed a +dance. Since Rance has got his money from England he hasn't done a +thing but play cards with them twins and take her round. I don't see +how her man can put up with it, but he's an awful easy-goin' chap--just +the kind that wouldn't notice anything wrong until he'd come home some +night and find her gone. I haven't one bit of respect for her." + +"Oh, now, Mrs. Smith, you're too hard on her. She's young and pretty +and likes a good time." Mrs. Corbett was giving her steel knives a +quick rub with ashes out of deference to the lady stoppers. "It's easy +enough for folks like us," waving her knife to include all present, "to +be very respectable and never get ourselves talked about, for nobody's +askin' us to go to dances or fly around with them, but with her it's +different. Don't be hard on her! She ain't goin' to do anything she +shouldn't." + +But the ladies were loath to adopt Mrs. Corbett's point of view. All +their lives nothing had happened, and here was a deliciously exciting +possible scandal, and they clung to it. + +"They say the old man Grant is nearly a millionaire, and he's getting +lonely for her, and is pretty near ready to forgive her and Fred and +take them back. Wouldn't it be awful if the old man should come up here +and find she'd gone with Rance Belmont?" + +Mrs. Berry looked anxiously around the kitchen as if searching for the +lost one. + +"Oh, don't worry," declared Mrs. Corbett; "she ain't a quitter. She'll +stay with her own man; they're happy as ever I saw two people." + +"If she did go," Miss Thornley said, sentimentally, "if she did go, do +you suppose she'd leave a note pinned on the pin-cushion? I think they +mostly do!" + +When the ladies had gone that afternoon, and while Mrs. Corbett washed +the white ironstone dishes, she was not nearly so composed and +confident in mind as she pretended to be. + +"Don't it beat the band how much they find out? I often wonder how +things get to be known. I do wish she wouldn't give them the chance to +talk, but she's not the one that will take tellin'--too much like her +father for that--and still I kind o' like her for her spunky ways. +Rance is a divil, but she don't know that. It is pretty hard to tell +what ought to be done. This is surely work for the Almighty, and not +for sinful human beings!" + +That night Mrs. Corbett took her pen in hand. Mrs. Corbett was more at +home with the potato-masher or the rolling-pin, but when duty called +her she followed, even though it involved the using of unfamiliar +tools. + +She wrote a lengthy letter to Mr. Robert Grant, care of The Imperial +Lumber Company, Toronto, Ontario: + +"Dear and respected sir," Mrs. Corbett wrote, "I take my pen in hand to +write you a few things that maybe you don't know but ought to know, and +to tell you your daughter is well, but homesick sometimes hoping that +you are enjoying the same blessings as this leaves us at present. Your +daughter is my neighbor and a blessed girl she is, and it is because I +love her so well that I am trying to write to you now, not being handy +at it, as you see; also my pen spits. As near as I can make out you and +her's cut off the same cloth; both of you are touchy and quick, and, if +things don't suit you, up and coming. But she's got a good heart in her +as ever I see. One day she told me a lot about how good you were to her +when her mother died, and about the prayer her mother used to tell her +to say: 'Help papa and mamma and Evelyn to be chums.' When she came to +that she broke right down and cried, and says she to me, 'I haven't +either of them now!' If you'd a-seen her that day you'd have forgot +everything only that she was your girl. Then she sat down and wrote you +a long letter, but when she got done didn't she tear it up, because she +said you told her you wouldn't read her letters. I saved a bit of the +letter for you to see, and here it is. We don't any of us see what made +you so mad at the man she got--he's a good fellow, and puts up with all +her high temper. She's terrible like yourself, excuse me for saying so +and meaning no harm. If she'd married some young scamp that was soaked +in whiskey and cigarettes you'd a-had something to kick about. I don't +see what you find in him to fault. Maybe you'll be for telling me to +mind my own business, but I am not used to doing that, for I like to +take a hand any place I see I can do any good, and if I was leaving my +girl fretting and lonely all on account of my dirty temper, both in me +and in her, though for that she shouldn't be blamed, I'd be glad for +someone to tell me. If you should want to send her a Christmas present, +and she says you never forgot her yet, come yourself. It's you she's +fretting for. You can guess it's lonely for her here when I tell you +she and me's the only women in this neighborhood, and I keep a +stopping-house, and am too busy feeding hungry men to be company for +anyone. + +"Hoping these few lines will find you enjoying the same blessings, + +"Yours respectively, + +"MAGGIE CORBETT." + +The writing of the letter took Mrs. Corbett the greater part of the +afternoon, but when it was done she felt a great weight had been lifted +from her heart. She set about her preparations for the evening meal +with more than usual speed. + +Going to the door to call Peter Rockett, she was surprised to see Rance +Belmont, with his splendid sorrel pacer, drive into the yard. He came +into the house a few minutes afterwards and seemed to be making +preparations to stay for supper. + +A sudden resolve was formed in Mrs. Corbett's mind as she watched him +hanging up his coat and making a careful toilet at the square looking- +glass which hung over the oilcloth-covered soap box on which stood the +wash-basin and soap saucer. She called to him to come into the pantry, +and while she hurriedly peeled the potatoes she plunged at once into +the subject. + +"Rance," she began, "you go to see Mrs. Brydon far too often, and +people are talking about it." + +Rance shrugged his shoulders. + +"Now, don't tell me you don't care, or that it's none of my business, +though that may be true." + +"I would never be so lacking in politeness, however true it might be!" +he answered, rolling a cigarette. + +Mrs. Corbett looked at him a minute, then she broke out, "Oh, but you +are the smooth-tongued gent!--you'd coax the birds off the bushes; but +I want to tell you that you are not doing right hanging around Mrs. +Brydon the way you do." + +"Does she object?" he asked, in the same even tone, as he slowly struck +a match on the sole of his boot. + +"She's an innocent little lamb," Mrs. Corbett cried, "and she's lonely +and homesick, and you've taken advantage of it. That poor lamb can't +stand the prairie like us old pelters that's weatherbeaten and gray and +toughened--she ain't made for it--she was intended for diamond rings +and drawing-rooms, and silks and satins." + +Rance Belmont looked at her, still smiling his inexplicable smile. + +"I can supply them better than she is getting them now," he said. + +Mrs. Corbett gave an exclamation of surprise. + +"But she's a married woman," she cried, "and a good woman, and what are +you, Rance? Sure you're no mate for any honest woman, you blackhearted, +smooth-tongued divil!" Mrs. Corbett's Irish temper was mounting higher +and higher, and two red spots burned in her cheeks. "You know as well +as I do that there's no happiness for any woman that goes wrong. That +woman must stand by her man, and he's a good fellow, Fred is; such a +fine, clean, honest lad, he never suspects anyone of being a crook or +meanin' harm. Why can't you go off and leave them alone, Rance? They +were doin' fine before you came along. Do one good turn, Rance, and +take yourself off." + +"You ask too much, Mrs. Corbett. I find Mrs. Brydon very pleasant +company, and Mr. Fred does not object to my presence." + +"But he would if he knew how the people talk about it." + +"That is very wrong of them, and entirely unavoidable," Rance answered, +calmly, "But the opinion of the neighbors has never bothered me yet," +he continued; "why should it in this instance?" + +Mrs. Corbett's eyes flashed ominously. + +"Do you know what I'd do if it was my girl you were after?" she asked, +pausing in her work and fixing her eyes on him. + +"Something very unpleasant, I should say, by the tone of your voice-- +and, by the way, you are pointing your potato knife at me--" + +Mrs. Corbett with an effort controlled her temper. + +"I believe, Mrs. Corbett, you would do me bodily injury. What a +horrible thought, and you a former officer in the Salvation Army!" +Rance was smiling again and enjoying the situation. "What a thrilling +headline it would make for the Brandon _Sun_: 'The Black Creek +Stopping-House scene of a brutal murder. Innocent young man struck down +in his youth and beauty.' You make me shudder, Mrs. Corbett, but you +look superb when you rage like that; really, you women interest me a +great deal. I am so fond of all of you!" + +"You're a divil, Rance!" Mrs. Corbett repeated again. "But you ain't +goin' to do that blessed girl any harm--she's goin' to be saved from +you some way." + +"Who'll do it, I wonder?" Rance seemed to triumph over her. + +"There is One," said Maggie Corbett, solemnly, "who comes to help when +all other help fails." + +"Who's that?" he asked, yawning. + +Maggie Corbett held up her right hand. + +"It is God!" she said slowly. Rance laughed indulgently. "A myth--a +name--a superstition," he sneered; "there is no God any more." + +"There is a God," she said, slowly and reverently, for she was Maggie +Murphy now, back to the Army days when God walked with her day by day, +"and He can hear a mother's prayer, and though I was never a mother +after the flesh, I am a mother now to that poor girl in the place of +the one that's gone, and I'm askin' Him to save her, and I've got me +answer. He will do it." + +There was a gleam in her eyes and a white glow in her face that made +Rance Belmont for one brief moment tremble, but he lighted another +cigarette and with a bow of exaggerated politeness left the room. + +The days that followed were anxious ones for Mrs. Corbett. Many +stoppers sat at her table as the Christmas season drew near, and many +times she heard allusions to her young neighbor which filled her with +apprehension. She had carefully counted the days that it would take her +letter to reach its destination, and although there had been time for a +reply, none came. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +_SHADOWS OF THE NIGHT_. + +It was a wind-swept, chilly morning in late November, and Evelyn +Brydon, alone in the silent little house, stood at the window looking +listlessly at the dull gray monochrome which stretched before her. + +The unaccustomed housework had roughened and chapped her hands, and the +many failures in her cooking experiments, in spite of Mrs, Corbett's +instructions, had left her tired and depressed, for a failure is always +depressing, even if it is only in the construction of the things which +perish. + +This dark morning it seemed to her that her life was as gray and +colorless as the bleached-out prairie--the glamor had gone from +everything. + +She and Fred had had their first quarrel, and Fred had gone away dazed +and hurt by the things she had said under the stress of her anger. He +was at a loss to know what had gone wrong with Evelyn, for she had +seemed quite contented all the time. He did not know how the many +little annoyances had piled up on her; how the utter loneliness of the +prairie, with its monotonous sweep of frost-killed grass, the deadly +sameness, and the perpetual silence of the house, had so worked upon +her mind that it required but a tiny spark to cause an explosion. + +The spark he had supplied himself when he had tried to defend his +brothers from her charges. All at once Evelyn felt herself grow cold +with anger, and the uncontrolled hasty words, bitterer than anything +she had ever thought, utterly unjust and cruel, sprang to her lips, and +Fred, stung to the quick with the injustice of it, had gone away +without a word. + +It was with a very heavy heart that he went to his work that day; but +he had to go, for he was helping one of the neighbors to thresh, and +every dry day was precious, and every man was needed. + +All day long Evelyn went about the house trying to justify herself. A +great wave of self-pity seemed to be engulfing her and blotting out +every worthier feeling. + +The prairie was hateful to her that day, its dull gray stretches cruel +and menacing, and a strange fear of it seemed to possess her. + +All day she tried to busy herself about the house, but she worked to no +purpose, taking up things and laying them down again, forgetting what +she was going to do with them; strange whispering voices seemed to +sound in the room behind her, trying to tell her something--to warn +her--and it was in vain that she tried to shake off their influence. +Once or twice she caught a glimpse of a black shadow over her shoulder, +just a reflecting vanishing glimpse, and when she turned hastily round +there was nothing there, but the voices, mocking and gibbering, were +louder than ever. + +She wished Fred would come. She would tell him that she hadn't meant +what she said. + +As the afternoon wore on, and Fred did not make his appearance, a +sudden deadly fear came over her at the thought of staying alone. Of +course the twins occupied the other half of the house, and to-night, at +least, she was glad of their protection. + +Suddenly it occurred to her that she had heard no sound from their +quarters for a long time. She listened and listened, the silence +growing more and more oppressive, until at last, overcoming her fears, +she went around and tried the door. Even the voices of her much- +despised brothers-in-law would be sweet music to her ears. + +The door was locked and there was no response to her knocks. + +An old envelope stuck in a sliver in the door bore the entry in lead- +pencil, "Gone Duck Shooting to Plover Slough," for it was the custom of +the twins to faithfully chronicle the cause of their absence and their +probable location each time they left home, to make it easy to find +them in the event of a cablegram from Aunt Patience's solicitors! + +Evelyn turned away and ran back to her own part of the house. She +hastily barred the door. + +The short autumn day was soon over. The sun broke out from the dull +gray mountain of clouds and threw a yellow glare on the colorless +field. She stood by the window watching the light as it faded and paled +and died, and then the shades of evening quickly gathered. Turning +again to replenish the fire, the darkness of the room startled her. +There was a shadow under the table like a cave's mouth. Unaccustomed +sounds smote her ear; the logs in the house creaked uncannily, and when +she walked across the floor muffled footfalls seemed to follow her. + +She put more wood in the stove and tried to shake off the apprehensions +which were choking her. She lit the lamp and hastily drew down the +white cotton blind and pinned it close to keep out the great pitiless +staring Outside, which seemed to be peering in at her with a dozen +white, mocking, merciless faces. + +In the lamp's dim light the shadows were blacker than ever; the big +packing-box threw a shadow on the wall that was as black as the mouth +of a tunnel in a mountain. + +She noticed that her stock of wood was running low, and with a mighty +effort of the will she opened the door to bring in some from a pile in +the yard. Stopping a minute to muster up her courage, she waited at the +open door. Suddenly the weird cry of a wolf came up from the creek +bank, and it was a bitter, lonely, insistent cry. + +She slammed the door, and coming back into the room, sank weak and +trembling into a chair. A horror grew upon her until the beads of +perspiration stood upon her face. Her hands grew numb and useless, and +the skin of her head seemed stiff and frozen. Her ears were strained to +catch any sound, and out of the silence there came many strange noises +to torment her overstrained senses. + +She thought of Mrs. Corbett at the Stopping-House, and tried to muster +courage to walk the distance, but a terrible fear held her to the spot. + +The fire died out, and the room grew colder and colder, but huddled in +a chair in a panic of fear she did not notice the cold. Her teeth +chattered; spots of light danced before her tightly-shut eyes. She did +not know what she was afraid of; a terrible nameless fear seemed to be +clutching at her very heart. It was the living, waking counterpart of +the nightmare that had made horrible her childhood nights--a gripping, +overwhelming fear of what might happen. + +Suddenly something burst into the room--the terrible something that she +had been waiting for. The silence broke into a thousand screaming +voices. She slipped to the floor and cried out in an agony of terror. + +There was a loud knocking on the door, and then through the horrible +silence that followed there came a voice calling to her not to be +afraid. + +She staggered to the door and unbarred it, and heard someone speak +again in blessed human voice. + +The door opened, and she found herself looking into the face of Rance +Belmont, and her fear-tortured eyes gave him a glad welcome. + +She seized him by the arm, holding to him as a child fear-smitten in +the night will hold fast to the one who comes in answer to his cries. + +Rance Belmont knew how to make the most, yet not too much, of an +advantage. He soothed her fears courteously, gently; he built up the +fire; he made her a cup of tea; there was that strange and subtle +influence in all that he said and did that made her forget everything +that was unpleasant and be happy in his presence. + +A perfect content grew upon her; she forgot her fears--her loneliness-- +her quarrel with Fred; she remembered only the happy company of the +present. + +Under the intoxication of the man's presence she ceased to be the +tired, discouraged, irritable woman, and became once more the Evelyn +Grant whose vivacity and wit had made her conspicuous in the brightest +company. + +She tried to remind herself of some of the unpleasant things that +neighborhood gossip said of Rance Belmont--of Mrs. Corbett's dislike of +him--but in the charm of his presence they all faded into vague +unrealities. + +There was flattery, clever, hidden flattery, which seemed like +adoration, in every word he spoke, every tone of his voice, every +glance of his coal-black eyes, that seemed in some way to atone for the +long, gray, monotonous days that had weighed so heavily upon her +spirits. + +"Are you always frightened when you are left alone?" he asked her. +Every word was a caress, the tone of his voice implying that she should +never be left alone, the magnetism of his presence assuring her that +she would never be left alone again. + +"I was never left alone in the evening before," she said. "I thought I +was very brave until to-night, but it was horrible--it makes me shudder +to think of it." + +"Don't think!" he said gently. + +"Fred thought the twins would be here, I know, or he would not have +stayed away," Evelyn said, wishing to do justice to Fred, and feeling +indefinitely guilty about something. + +"The twins are jolly good company,--oh, I say!" laughed Rance, in tones +so like her brothers-in-law that Evelyn laughed delightedly. It was +lovely to have someone to laugh with. + +"But where are the heavenly twins to-night?" + +"I suppose they saw a flock of ducks going over, or heard the honk-honk +of wild geese," she answered. "It does not take much to distract them +from labor--and they have a soul above it, you know." + +Rance Belmont need not have asked her about the twins; he had met them +on their way to the Plover Slough and had given Reginald the loan of +his gun; he had learned from them that Fred, too, was away. + +"But if dear Aunt Patience will only lift her anchor all will yet be +well, and the dear twins will not need to be bothered with anything so +beastly as farm-work." His tone and manner were so like the twins that +Evelyn applauded his efforts. Then he told her the story of the cow, +and of how the twins, endeavoring to follow the example of some of the +Canadians whom they had seen locking their wagon-wheels with a chain +when going down the Souris hill, had made a slight mistake in the +location of the chain and hobbled the oxen, with disastrous results. + +When he looked at his watch it was nine o'clock. + +"I must go," he said, hastily rising; "it would hardly do for me to be +found here!" + +"What do you mean?" she asked in surprise. + +"What do you suppose your husband would say if he came home and found +me here?" + +Evelyn flushed angrily. + +"My husband has confidence in me," she answered proudly. "I don't know +what he thinks of you, but I know what he thinks of me, and it would +make no difference what company he found me in, he would never doubt +me. I trust him in the same way. I would believe his word against that +of the whole world." + +She held her handsome head high when she said this. + +Rance Belmont looked at her with a dull glow in his black eyes. + +"I hope you are right," he said, watching the color coming in her face. + +"I am right," she said after a pause, daring which she had looked at +him defiantly. He was wise enough to see he had made a false move and +had lost ground in her regard. + +"I think you had better go," she said at last. "I do not like that +insinuation of yours that your presence here might be misconstrued. +Yes, I want you to go. I was glad to see you; I was never so glad to +see anyone; I was paralyzed with fear; but now I am myself again, and I +am sure Fred will come home." + +There was a sneering smile on his face which she understood and +resented. + +"In that case I had better go," he said. + +"That is not the reason I want you to go. I tell you again that Fred +would not believe that I was untrue to him. He believes in me utterly." +She drew herself up with an imperious gesture and added: "I am worthy +of his trust." + +Rance Belmont thought he had never seen her so beautiful. + +"I will not leave you," he declared. "Forgive me for speaking as I did. +I judged your husband by the standards of the world. I might have known +that the man who won you must be different from other men. It was only +for your sake that I said I must go. I care nothing for his fury. If it +were the fury of a hundred men I would stay with you; just to be near +you, to hear your sweet voice, to see you, is heaven to me." + +Evelyn sprang to her feet indignantly as he arose and came towards her. + +Just at that moment the door opened, and Fred Brydon, having heard the +last words, stood face to face with them both! + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +_HIS EVIL GENIUS_. + +When Fred Brydon went to his work that morning, smarting from the angry +words that Evelyn had hurled at him, everyone he met noticed how gloomy +and burdened he seemed to be; how totally unlike his former easy good- +nature and genial cheerfulness was his strange air of reserve. + +They thought they knew the cause, and told each other so when he was +not listening. + +When he came into the kitchen to wash himself at noon he heard one of +the men say to another in an aside: "He'll be the last one to catch +on." + +He paid no particular attention to the sentence at the time, but it +stuck in his memory. + +The day was fine and dry, and the thresher was run at the top of its +speed. One more day would finish the stacks, and as this was the last +threshing to be done in the neighborhood, the greatest effort was put +forth to finish it before the weather broke. + +They urged him to stay the night--they would begin again at daylight-- +the weather was so uncertain. + +He thought, of course, that the twins were safely at home, and Evelyn +had often said that she was not afraid to stay. He had consented to +stay, when all at once the weather changed. + +The clouds had hung low and heavy all day, but after sundown a driving +wind carrying stray flakes of snow began to whistle around the stacks. +The air, too, grew heavy, and a feeling of oppression began to be +evident. + +The pigs ran across the yard carrying a mouthful of straw, and the +cattle crowded into the sheds. Soon the ground was covered with loose +snow, which began to whirl in gentle, playful eddies. The warmth of the +air did not in any way deceive the experienced dwellers on the plain, +who knew that the metallic whistle in the wind meant business. + +The owner of the threshing machine covered it up with canvas, and all +those who had been helping, as soon as they had supper, started to make +the journey to their homes. It looked as if a real Manitoba blizzard +was setting in. + +In spite of the protestations of all the men, Fred did not wait for his +supper, but set out at once on the three-mile walk home. + +Evelyn's hasty words still stung him with the sense of failure and +defeat. If Evelyn had gone back on him what good was anything to him? + +Walking rapidly down the darkening trail, his thoughts were very bitter +and self-reproachful; he had done wrong, he told himself, to bring her +to such a lonely place--it would have been better for Evelyn if she had +never met him--she had given up too much for his sake. + +He noticed through the drifting storm that there was something ahead of +him on the trail, and, quickening his steps, he was surprised to +overtake his two brothers leisurely returning from their duck hunt. + +"Why did you two fellows leave when you knew I was away? You know that +Evelyn will be frightened to be left there all alone." + +Instantly all his own troubles vanished at the thought of his wife left +alone on the wide prairie. + +His brothers strongly objected to his words. + +"We don't 'ave to stay to mind 'er, do we?" sneered Reginald. + +"Maybe she ain't alone, either," broke in Randolph, seeing an +opportunity to turn Fred's wrath in another direction. + +"What are you driving at?" asked Fred in surprise. + +"Maybe Rance Belmont has dropped in again to spend the evenin'--he +usually does when you're away!" + +"You lie!" cried Fred, angrily. + +"We ain't lyin'," declared Randolph. "Everybody knows it only you." + +The words were no sooner said than Fred fell upon him like a madman. +Randolph roared lustily for help, and Reginald valiantly strove to save +him from Fred's fury. But they retreated before him as he rained his +blows upon them both. + +Then Reginald, finding that he was no match for Fred in open conflict, +dodged around behind him, and soon a misty dizziness in his head told +Fred that he had been struck by something heavier than hands. There was +a booming in his ears and he fell heavily to the road. + +The twins were then thoroughly frightened. Here was a dreadful and +unforeseen possibility. + +They stood still to consider what was to be done. + +"It was you done it, remember," said Randolph to Reginald. + +"But I done it to save you!" cried Reginald, indignantly, "and you +can't prove it was me. People can't tell us apart." + +"Anyway," said Reginald, "everybody will blame it on Rance Belmont if +he is killed--and see here, here's the jolly part of it. I'll leave +Rance's gun right beside him. That'll fix the guilt on Rance!" + +"Well, we won't go home; we'll go back and stay in the shootin'-house +at the Slough, and then we can prove we weren't home at all, and +there'll be no tracks by mornin', anyway." + +The twins turned around and retraced their steps through the storm, +very hungry and very cross, but forgetting these emotions in the +presence of a stronger one--fear. + +But Fred was not killed, only stunned by Reginald's cowardly blow. The +soft flakes melting on his face revived him, and sitting up he looked +about him trying to remember where he was. Slowly it all came to him, +and stiff and sore, he got upon his feet. There were no signs of the +twins, but to this Fred gave no thought; his only anxiety was for +Evelyn, left alone on such a wild night. + +When he entered his own house with Rance Belmont's words ringing in his +ears, he stood for a moment transfixed. His brother's words which he +had so hotly resented surged over him now with fatal conviction; also +the words he had heard at the threshing, "He'll be the last one to +catch on," came to him like the flash of lightning that burns and +uproots and destroys. + +His head swam dizzily and lights danced before his eyes. He stood for a +moment without speaking. He was not sure that it wasn't all a horrible +dream. + +If he had looked first at Evelyn, her honest face and flashing eyes +would have put his unworthy suspicions to flight. But Rance Belmont +with his fatal magnetic presence drew his gaze. Rance Belmont stood +with downcast eyes, the living incarnation of guilt. It was all a pose, +of course, but Rance Belmont, with his deadly gift of being able to +make any impression he wished, made a wonderful success of the part he +had all at once decided to play. + +Looking at him, Fred's smouldering jealousy burst into flame. + +There was an inarticulate sound in his throat, and striding forward he +landed a smashing blow on Rance Belmont's averted face. + +"Oh, Fred!" Evelyn cried, springing forward, "for shame!--how could +you!--how dare you!--" + +"Don't talk to me of shame!" Fred cried, his face white with anger. + +"Don't blame her," Rance said in a low voice. He made no attempt to +defend himself. + +In her excitement Evelyn did not notice the sinister significance of +his words and what they implied. She was conscious of nothing only that +Fred had insulted her by his actions, and her wrath grew as terrible as +her husband's. + +She caught him by the shoulder and compelled him to look at her. + +"Fred," she cried, "do you believe--do you dare to believe this +terrible thing?" + +She shook him in her rage and excitement. + +Rance Belmont saw that Fred would be convinced of her innocence if he +did not gain his attention, and the devil in him spoke again, soft, +misleading, lying words, part truth, yet all false, leaving no chance +for denial. + +"Don't blame her--the fault has all been mine," he interposed again. + +In her blind rage again Evelyn missed the significance of his words. +She was conscious of one thought only--Fred had not immediately craved +her pardon. She shook and trembled with uncontrollable rage. + +"I hate you, Fred!" she cried, her voice sounding thin and unnatural. +"I hate you! One minute ago I believed you to be the noblest man on +earth; now I know you for an evil-minded, suspicious, contemptible, +dog!--a dog!--a cur! My father was right about you. I renounce you +forever!" + +She pulled the rings from her finger and flung them against the window, +cracking the glass across. "I will never look on your face again, I +hope. This is my reward, is it, for giving up everything for you? I +boasted of your trust in me a minute ago, but you have shamed me; you +have dragged my honor in the dust, but now I am free--and you may +believe what you please!" + +She turned to Rance Belmont. + +"Will you drive me to Brandon to-night?" she asked. + +She put on her coat and hat without a word or a look at the man, who +stood as if rooted to the ground. + +Then opening the door she went out quickly, and Rance Belmont, with +something like triumph on his black face, quickly followed her, and +Fred Brydon, bruised in body and stricken in soul, was left alone in +his desolate house. + + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +_DA'S TURN_. + +The wind was whistling down the Black Creek Valley, carrying heavy +flakes of snow that whirled and eddied around them, as Rance Belmont +and Evelyn made their way to the Stopping-House. The stormy night +accorded well with the turmoil in Evelyn's brain. One point she had +decided--she would go back to her father, and for this purpose she +asked her companion if he would lend her one hundred dollars. This he +gladly consented to do. + +He was discreet enough to know that he must proceed with caution, +though he felt that in getting her separated from her husband and so +thoroughly angry with him that he had made great progress. Now he +believed that if he could get her away from the Stopping-House his +magnetic influence over her would bring her entirely under his power. + +But she had insisted on going in to the Stopping-House to see Mrs. +Corbett and tell her what she was going to do. It was contrary to +Evelyn's straightforwardness to do anything in an under-handed way, and +she felt that she owed it to Mrs. + +Corbett, who had been her staunch friend, to tell her the truth of the +story, knowing that many versions of it would be told. + +Mrs. Corbett was busy setting a new batch of bread, and looked up with +an exclamation of surprise when they walked into the kitchen, white +with snow. It staggered Mrs. Corbett somewhat to see them together at +that late hour, but she showed no surprise as she made Mrs. Brydon +welcome. + +"I am going away, Mrs. Corbett," Evelyn began at once. + +"No bad news from home, is there?" Mrs. Corbett asked anxiously. + +"No bad news from home, but bad news here. Fred and I have quarrelled +and parted forever!" + +Mrs. Corbett drew Evelyn into the pantry and closed the door. She could +do nothing, she felt, with Rance Belmont present. + +"Did you quarrel about him?" she asked, jerking her head towards the +door. + +Evelyn told her story, omitting only Rance Belmont's significant +remarks, which indeed she had not heard. + +Mrs. Corbett listened attentively until she was done. + +"Ain't that just like a man, poor, blunderin' things they are. Sure and +it was just his love for you, honey, that made him break out so +jealous!" + +"Love!" Evelyn broke in scornfully. "Love should include trust and +respect--I don't want love without them. How dare he think that I would +do anything that I shouldn't? Do I look like a woman who would go +wrong?" + +"Sure you don't, honey!" Mrs. Corbett soothed her, "but you know Rance +Belmont is so smooth-tongued and has such a way with him that all men +hate him, and the women like him too well. But what are you goin' to +do, dear? Sure you can't leave your man." + +"I have left him," said Evelyn. "I am going to Brandon now to-night in +time for the early train. Rance Belmont will drive me." + +Something warned Mrs. Corbett not to say all that was in her heart, so +she temporized. + +"Sure, if I were you I wouldn't go off at night--it don't look well. +Stay here till mornin'. The daylight's the best time to go. Don't go +off at night as if you were doin' something you were ashamed of. Go in +broad daylight." + +"What do I care what people say about me?" Evelyn raged again. "They +can't say any worse than my husband believes of me. No--I am going--I +want to put distance between us; I just came in to say good-bye and to +tell you how it happened. I wanted you and Mr. Corbett to know the +truth, for you have been kind friends to me, and I'll never, never +forget you." + +"I'd be afraid you'd never get to Brandon tonight, honey." Mrs. Corbett +held her close, determining in her own mind that she would lock her in +the pantry if there was no other way of detaining her. "Listen to the +wind--sure it's layin' in for a blizzard. I knew that all day. The +roads will be drifted so high you'd never get there, even with the big +pacer. Stay here tonight just to oblige me, and you can go on in the +morning if it's fit." + +Meanwhile John Corbett had been warning Rance Belmont that the weather +was unfit for anyone to be abroad, and the fact that George Sims, the +horse trader from Millford, and Dan Lonsbury, had put in for the night, +made a splendid argument in favor of his doing the same. Rance Belmont +had no desire to face a blizzard unnecessarily, particularly at night, +and the storm was growing thicker every minute. So after consulting +with Evelyn, who had yielded to Mrs. Corbett's many entreaties, he +agreed to remain where he was for the night. Evelyn went at once to the +small room over the kitchen, which Mrs. Corbett kept for special +guests, and as she busied herself about the kitchen Mrs. Corbett could +hear her pacing up and down in her excitement. + +Mrs. Corbett hastily baked biscuits and "buttermilk bread" to feed her +large family, who, according to the state of the weather and the +subsequent state of the roads, might be with her for several days, and +while her hands were busy, her brain was busier still, and being a +praying woman, Maggie Corbett was looking for help in the direction +from which help comes. + +The roaring of the storm as it swept past the house, incessantly +mourning in the mud chimney and sifting the snow against the frosted +windows, brought comfort to her anxious heart, for it reminded her that +dominion and majesty and power belong to the God whom she served. + +When she put the two pans of biscuits in the oven she looked through +the open door into the "Room," where her unusual number of guests were +lounging about variously engaged. + +Rance Belmont smoked cigarettes constantly and shuffled the cards as if +to read his fate therein. He would dearly have loved a game with some +one, for he had the soul of a gambler, but Mrs. Corbett's decree +against card-playing was well known. + +Dan Lonsbury, close beside the table lamp, read a week-old copy of the +Brandon _Times_. George Sims, the horse-dealer, by the light of his own +lantern, close beside him on the bench, pared his corns with minute +attention to detail. + +Under the wall lamp, which was fastened to the window frame, Da +Corbett, in his cretonne-covered barrel-chair of home manufacture, read +the _War Cry_, while Peter Rockett, on his favorite seat, the wood-box, +played one of the Army tunes on his long-suffering Jew's-harp. + +"They can't get away as long as the storm lasts, anyway," Mrs. Corbett +was thinking, thankful even for this temporary respite, "but they'll go +in the mornin' if the storm goes down, and I can't stop them--vain is +the help of man." + +Suddenly Mrs. Corbett started as if she had heard a strange and +disturbing noise; she threw out her hands as if in protest. She sat +still a few moments holding fast to the kitchen table in her +excitement; her eyes glittered, and her breath came short and fast. + +She went hurriedly into the pantry, fearful that her agitation might be +noticed. In her honest soul it seemed to her that her plan, so +terrible, so daring, so wicked, must be sounding now in everybody's +ears. + +In the darkness of the pantry she tried to think it out. Was it an +inspiration from heaven, or was it a suggestion of the devil? One +minute she was imploring Satan to "get thee behind me," and the next +minute she was thanking God and whispering Hallelujahs! A lull in the +storm drove her to immediate action. + +John Corbett came out into the kitchen to see what was burning, for +Maggie had forgotten her biscuits. + +When the biscuits were attended to she took "Da" with her into the +pantry, and she said to him, "Da, is it ever right to do a little wrong +so that good will come of it?" + +She asked the question so impersonally that John Corbett replied +without hesitation: "It is never right, Maggie." + +"But, Da," she cried, seizing the lapel of his coat, "don't you mind +hearin' o' how the priests have given whiskey to the Indians when they +couldn't get the white captives away from them any other way? Wasn't +that right?" + +"Sure and it was; at a time like that it was right to do anything--but +what are you coming at, Maggie?" + +"If Rance Belmont lost all the money he has on him, and maybe ran a bit +in debt, he couldn't go away to-morrow with her, could he? She thinks +he's just goin' to drive her to Brandon, but I know him--he'll go with +her, sure--she can't help who travels on the train with her--and how'll +that look? But if he were to lose his money he couldn't travel dead +broke, could he, Da?" + +"Not very far," agreed Da, "but what are you coming at, Maggie? Do you +want me to go through him?" He laughed at the suggestion. + +"Ain't there any way you can think of, Da--no, don't think--the sin is +mine and I'll take it fair and square on my soul. I don't want you to +be blemt for it--Da, listen--" she whispered in his ear. + +John Corbett caught her in his arms. + +"Would I? Would I? Oh, Maggie, would a duck swim?" he said, keeping his +voice low to avoid being heard in the other room. + +"Don't be too glad, Da; remember it's a wicked thing I'm askin' you to +do; but, Da, are you sure you haven't forgot how?" + +John Corbett laughed. "Maggie, when a man learns by patient toil to +tell the under side of an ace he does not often forget, but of course +there is always the chance, that's the charm of it--nobody can be quite +sure." + +"I've thought of every way I can think of," she said, after a pause, +"and this seems to be the only way. I just wish it was something I +could do myself and not be bringing black guilt on your soul, but maybe +God'll understand. Maybe it was so that you'd be ready for to-night +that He let you learn to be so handy with them. Sure Ma always said +that God can do His work with quare tools; and now, Da, I'll slip off +to bed, and you'll pretend you're stealin' a march on me, and he'll +enjoy himself all the more if he thinks he's spitin' me. Oh, Da, I wish +I knew it was right--maybe it's ruinin' your soul I am, puttin' you up +to such wickedness, but I'll be prayin' for you as hard as I can." + +Da looked worried. "Maggie, I don't know about the prayin'--I was +always able to find the card I needed without bein' prayed for." + +"Oh, I mean I'll pray it won't hurt you. I wouldn't interfere with the +game, for I don't know one card from another, and I'm sure the Lord +don't either, but it's your soul I'm thinkin' of and worried about. +I'll slip down with the green box--there's more'n a hundred dollars in +it. And now good-bye, Da--go at him, and God bless you--and play like +the divil!" + +Mr. John Corbett slowly folded up the _War Cry_ and placed it in his +pocket, and when Maggie brought down the green box with their earnings +in it he emptied its contents in his pocket, and then, softly humming +to himself, he went into the other room. + +The wind raged and the storm roared around the Black Creek Stopping- +House all that night, but inside the fire burned bright in the box- +stove, and an interested and excited group sat around the table where +Rance Belmont and John Corbett played the game! Peter Rockett, with his +eyes bulging from his head, watched his grave employer cut and deal and +gather in the stakes, with as much astonishment as if that dignified +gentleman had walked head downward on the ceiling. Yet John Corbett +proceeded with the game, as grave and solemn as when he asked a +blessing at the table. Sometimes he hummed snatches of Army tunes, and +sometimes Rance Belmont swore softly, and to the anxious ear which +listened at the stovepipe-hole above, both sounds were of surpassing +sweetness! + + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +_THE BLIZZARD_. + +When the door closed behind Rance Belmont and Evelyn, Fred sank into a +chair with the whole room whirling dizzily around him. Why had the +world gone so suddenly wrong? + +His head was quite clear now, and only the throbbing hurt on the back +of his head reminded him of Reginald's cowardly blow. But his anger +against his brothers had faded into apathy in the presence of this new +trouble which seemed to choke the very fountains of his being. + +One terrible fact smote him with crushing force--Evelyn had left him +and gone with Rance Belmont. She said she hoped she would never see him +again--that she was done with him--and her eyes had blazed with anger +and hatred--and she had stepped in between him and the miserable +villain whom he would have so dearly loved to have beaten the life out +of. + +He tried to rage against her, but instead he could think of nothing but +her sweet imperiousness, her dazzling beauty, her cheerfulness under +all circumstances, and her loyalty to him. + +She had given up everything for him--for his sake she had defied her +father, renounced all share in his great wealth, suffered the hardships +and loneliness of the prairie, all for him. + +Her workbag lay on the table, partly open. It seemed to call and beckon +to him. He took it tenderly in his hands, and from its folds there fell +a crumpled sheet of paper. He smoothed it out, and found it partly +written on in Evelyn's clear round hand. + +He held it to the light eagerly, as one might read a message from the +dead. Who was Evelyn writing to? + +"_ When you ask me to leave my husband you ask me to do a dishonorable +and cowardly thing. Fred has never_"--the writing ceased abruptly. Fred +read it again aloud, then sprang to his feet with a smothered +exclamation. Only one solution presented itself to his mind. She had +been writing to Rance Belmont trying to withstand his advances, trying +to break away from his devilish influence. She had tried to be true to +herself and to him. + +Fred remembered then with bitter shame the small help he had given her. +He had wronged her when he struck Rance Belmont. + +One overwhelming thought rose out of the chaos of his mind--she must be +set free from the baneful influence of this man. If she were not strong +enough to resist him herself, she must be helped, and that help must +come from him--he had sworn to protect her, and he would do it. + +There was just one way left to him now. Fred's face whitened at the +thought, and his eyes had an unnatural glitter, but there was a deadly +purpose in his heart. + +In his trunk he found the Smith and Wesson that one of the boys in the +office had given him when he left, and which he had never thought of +since. He hastily but carefully loaded it and slipped it into his +pocket. Then reaching for his snowy overcoat, which had fallen to the +floor, and putting the lamp in the window, more from habit than with +any purpose, he went out into the night. + +The storm had reached its height when Fred Brydon, pulling has cap down +over his ears, set out on his journey. It was a wild enough night to +turn any traveller aside from his purpose, but Fred Brydon, in his +rage, had ceased to be a man with a man's fears, a man's frailties, and +had become an avenging spirit, who knew neither cold nor fatigue. A +sudden stinging of his ears made him draw his cap down more closely, +but he went forward at a brisk walk, occasionally breaking into a run. + +He had but one thought in his mind--he must yet save Evelyn. He had +deserted her in her hour of need, but he would yet make amends. + +The wind which sang dismally around him reminded him with a sickening +blur of homesickness of the many pleasant evenings he and Evelyn had +spent in their little shack, with the same wind making eerie music in +the pipe of the stove. Yesterday and to-day were separated by a gulf as +wide as death itself. + +He had gone about three miles when he heard a faint halloo come down +the wind. It sounded two or three times before the real significance of +it occurred to him, so intent was he upon his own affairs. But louder +and more insistent came the unmistakable call for help. + +A fierce temptation assailed Fred Brydon. He must not delay--every +minute was precious--to save Evelyn, his wife, was surely more his duty +than to set lost travellers on their way again. Besides, he told +himself, it was not a fiercely cold night--there was no great danger of +any person freezing to death; and even so, were not some things more +vital than saving people from death, which must come sooner or later? +Then down the wind came the cry again--a frightened cry--he could hear +the words--"Help! help! for God's sake!" Something in Fred Brydon's +heart responded to that appeal. He could not hurry by unheeding. + +Guided by the calls, he turned aside from his course and made his way +through the choking storm across the prairie. + +The cries came nearer, and Fred shouted in reply--words of impatient +encouragement. No rescuer ever went to his work with a worse grace. + +A large, dark object loomed faintly through the driving storm. + +"What's the matter?" called Fred, when he was within speaking distance. + +"I'm caught--tangled up in some devilish thing," came back the cry. + +Fred hurried forward, and found a man, almost covered with snow, +huddled beside a haystack, his clothing securely held by the barbs of +the wire with which the stack was fenced. + +"You're stuck in the barbed wire," said Fred, as he removed his mittens +and with a good deal of difficulty released the man from the close grip +of the barbs. + +"I hired a livery-man at Brandon to bring me out, and his bronchos +upset us and got away from him. He walked them the whole way--the roads +were heavy--and then look at what they did! I came over here for +shelter--the driver ran after the team, and then these infernal +fishhooks got hold of me--what are they, anyway?" + +Fred explained. + +"This is surely a God-forsaken country that can jerk a storm like this +on you in November," the older man declared, as Fred carefully dusted +the snow off him, wondering all the time what he was going to do with +him. + +"Where are you going?" Fred asked, abruptly. + +"I want to get to the Black Creek Stopping-House. How far am I from +there now?" + +"About three miles," said Fred. + +"Well, I guess I can walk that far if you'll show me the road." + +Fred hesitated. + +"I am going to Brandon," he said. + +"What is any sane man going to Brandon to-night for?" the stranger +cried, impatiently. "Great Scott! I thought I was the only man who was +a big enough fool to be out to-night. The driver assured me of that +several times. I guess there's a woman in the case with you, too." + +"Did you meet anyone?" Fred asked, quickly. "Not a soul! I tell you +you and I are the only crazy ones to-night." + +Fred considered a minute. + +"I'll take you on your way," he said. + +The stranger suddenly remembered something. "I'm a good bit obliged to +you, young man, whoever you are. I guess I'd have been here all night +if you hadn't come along and heard me. I was beginning to get chilly, +too. Is this a blizzard?" + +"Yes, I guess it is," Fred answered, shortly, "and it's not improving +any, so I guess we had better hurry on." + +It was much easier going with the wind, and at first the older man, +helped along by Fred, made good progress. Fred knew that every minute +the drifts were growing higher and the road harder to keep. + +The night grew colder and darker, and the storm seemed to thicken. + +"Pretty hard going for an old man of sixty," the stranger said, +stopping to get his breath. The storm seemed to choke him. + +Soon he begged to be let rest, and when Fred tried to start him again +he experienced some difficulty. The cold was getting into his very +bones, and was causing a fatal drowsiness. + +Fred told him this and urged him to put forth his greatest efforts. +They were now but a mile from Fred's house. Every few minutes the light +in the window glimmered through the storm, the only ray of light in the +maze of whirling snow which so often thickened and darkened and blotted +it out altogether. + +When they were about half a mile from the house, the old man, without +warning, dropped into the snow and begged Fred to go on without him. He +was all right, he declared, warm and comfortable, and wanted to rest. + +"You'll freeze to death!" Fred cried. "That's the beginning of it." + +"Feel very comfortable," the old man mumbled. + +Fred coaxed, reasoned, entreated, but all in vain. He shook the old +man, scolded, threatened, but all to no purpose. + +There was only one thing to be done. + +Fred threw off his own coat, which was a heavy one, and picked the old +man up, though he was no light weight, and set off with him. + +But the man objected to being carried, and, squirming vigorously, +slipped out of Fred's arms, and once more declared his intention of +sleeping in the snow. + +With his frozen mitten Fred dealt him a stinging blow on the cheek +which made him yell with pain and surprise. + +"Do what I tell you!" cried Fred. + +The blow seemed to rouse him from his stupor, and he let Fred lead him +onward through the storm. + +When they arrived at Fred's house he put the old man in a rocking- +chair, first removing his snowy outer garments, and made sure that he +had no frost-bites. Then hastily lighting the fire, which had burned +itself out, he made coffee and fried bacon. + +When the old man had taken a cup of the coffee he began to take an +interest in his surroundings. + +"How did I get here?" he asked. "The last thing I remember I was +sitting down, feeling very drowsy, and someone was bothering me to get +up. Did I get up?" + +"Not until I lifted you," said Fred. + +"Did you carry me?" the other man asked in surprise. + +"I did until you kicked and squirmed so I couldn't hold you." + +"What did you do then?" queried his visitor, tenderly feeling his sore +cheek. + +"I slapped you once, but you really deserved far more," said Fred, +gravely. + +"What did I do then?" + +"You got up and behaved yourself so nicely I was sorry that I hadn't +slapped you sooner!" + +The old man laughed to himself without a sound. + +"What's your name?" he asked. + +While this dialogue had been in progress Fred had been studying his +companion closely, with a growing conviction that he knew him. He was +older, grayer, and of course the storm had reddened his face, but Fred +thought he could not be mistaken. + +The old man repeated the question. + +"Brown!" said Fred, shortly, giving the first name he could think of. + +"You're a strapping fine young fellow, Brown, even if you did hit me +with your hard mitt, and I believe I should be grateful to you." + +"Don't bother," said Fred shortly. + +"I will bother," the old man cried, imperiously, with a gesture of his +head that Fred knew well; "I will bother, and my daughter will thank +you, too." + +"Your daughter!" Fred exclaimed, turning his back to pick out another +stick for the stove. + +"Yes, my girl, my only girl--it's her I came to see. She's living near +here. I guess you'd know her: she's married to a no-good Englishman, a +real lizzie-boy, that wouldn't say boo to a goose!" + +Fred continued to fix the fire, poking it unnecessarily. He was +confident that Evelyn's father would not recognize him with his crop of +whiskers and sunburnt face. His mind was full of conflicting emotions. + +"Maybe you know him," said the old man. "His name is Brydon. They live +somewhere near the Stopping-House." + +"I've not lived here long," said Fred, evasively, "but I've heard of +them." + +The comfort and security of the warm little shack, as well as the good +meal Fred had given him, had loosened the old man's tongue. + +"I never liked this gent. I only saw him once, but it don't take me +long to make up my mind. He carried a cane and had his monogram on his +socks--that was enough for me--and a red tie on him, so red you'd think +his throat was cut. I says to myself, I don't want that shop window +Judy round my house,' but Evelyn thought he was the best going. Funny +thing that that girl was the very one to laugh at dudes before that, +but she stuck it out that he was a fine chap. She's game, all right, my +girl is. She stays right with the job. I wrote and told her to come on +back and I'd give her every cent I have--but she pitched right into me +about not asking Fred. Here's her letter. Oh, she's a spunky one!" He +was fumbling in his pockets as he spoke. Drawing out a long pocketbook, +he took out a letter. He deliberately opened the envelope and read. +Fred with difficulty held back his hand from seizing it. + +"Listen to this how she lit into me: 'When you ask me to leave my +husband you ask me to do a dishonorable thing--'" + +Fred heard no more--he hung on to the seat of his chair with both +hands, breathing hard, but the old man took no notice of him and read +on: + +"'Fred is in every way worthy of your respect, but you have been +utterly unjust to him from the first. I will enjoy poverty and +loneliness with him rather than endure every pleasure without him.'" + +Fred's world had suddenly righted itself--he saw it all now--this was +the man she was writing to--this was the man who had tried to induce +her to leave him. + +"I haven't really anything against this Fred chap--maybe his clothes +were all right. I was brought up in the lumber business, though, and I +don't take to flowered stockings and monograms--I kept wondering how +he'd look in overalls! What was really wrong with me--and you'll never +know how it feels until you have a girl of your own, and she leaves +you--was that I was jealous of the young gent for taking my girl when +she was all I had." + +Fred suddenly understood many things; a fellow feeling for the old man +filled his heart, and in a flash he saw the past in an entirely +different light. + +He broke out impetuously, "She thinks of you the same as ever, I know +she does--" then, seeing his mistake, he said, "I know them slightly, +and I've heard she was lonely for you." + +"Then why didn't she tell me? She has always kept up these spunky +letters to me, and said she was happy, and all that--she liked to live +here, she said. What's this Fred fellow like?" The old man leaned +toward him confidentially. + +"Oh, just so-so," Fred answered, trying to make the stove take more +wood than it was ever intended to take. "I never had much use for him, +and I know people wondered what she saw in him." + +The old man was glad to have his opinion sustained, and by a local +authority, too. + +"It wasn't because he hadn't money that I objected to him--it wasn't +that, for I have a place in my business where I need a smart, up-to- +date chap, and I'd have put him there quick, but he didn't seem to have +any snap in him--too polite, you know--the kind of a fellow that would +jump to pick up a handkerchief like as if he was shot out of a gun. I +don't care about money, but I like action. Now, if she had taken a +fancy to a brown-faced chap like you I wouldn't have cared if he hadn't +enough money to make the first payment on a postage stamp. I kinda +liked the way you let fly at me when I was acting contrary with you out +there in the storm. But, tell me, how does this Fred get on? Is he as +green as most Englishmen?" + +"He's green enough," Fred agreed, "but he's not afraid of work. But +come now, don't you want to go to bed? I can put you up for the night, +what there's left of it; it's nearly morning now." + +The old man yawned sleepily, and was easily persuaded to go to bed. + +When the old man was safely out of the way Fred put his revolver back +where he had found it. The irony of the situation came home to him--he +had gone out to kill, but in a mysterious way it had been given to him +to save instead of take life. But what good was anything to him now?-- +the old man had come one day too late. + +At daylight, contrary to all expectations, the storm went down, only +the high packed drifts giving evidence of the fury of the night before. + +As soon as the morning came Fred put on his father-in-law's coat, +having left his in the snow, and went over to the Black Creek Stopping- +House. Mrs. Corbett was the only person who could advise him. + +He walked into the kitchen, which was never locked, just as Mrs. +Corbett, carrying her boots in her hand as if she were afraid of +disturbing someone, came softly down the stairs. + +Mrs. Corbett had determined to tell Fred what a short-sighted, jealous- +minded man he was when she saw him, but one look at his haggard face-- +for the events of the previous night were telling on him now--made her +forget that she had any feeling toward him but sympathy. She read the +question in his eyes which his lips were afraid to utter. + +"She's here, Fred, safe and sound," she whispered. + +"Oh, Mrs. Corbett," he whispered in return, "I've been an awful fool! +Did she tell you? Will she ever forgive me, do you think?" + +"Ask her!" said Mrs. Corbett, pointing up the narrow stairs. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +_WHEN THE DAY BROKE_. + +All night long the tide of fortune ebbed and flowed around the table +where Rance Belmont and John Corbett played the game which is still +remembered and talked of by the Black Creek old settlers when their +thoughts run upon old times. + +Just as the daylight began to show blue behind the frosted panes, and +the yellow lamplight grew pale and sickly, Rance Belmont rose and +stretched his stiffened limbs. + +"I am sorry to bring such a pleasant gathering to an end," he said, +with his inscrutable smile, "but I believe I am done." He was searching +through his pockets as he spoke. "Yes, I believe the game is over." + +"You're a mighty good loser, Rance," George Sims declared with +admiration. + +The other men rose, too, and went out to feed their horses, for the +storm was over and they must soon be on the road. + +When John Corbett and Rance Belmont went out into the kitchen, Maggie +Corbett was chopping up potatoes in the frying-pan with a baking-powder +can, looking as fresh and rested as if she had been asleep all night, +instead of holding a lonely vigil beside a stovepipe-hole. + +John Corbett advanced to the table and solemnly deposited the green box +thereon; then with painstaking deliberation he arranged the contents of +his pockets in piles. Rance Belmont's watch lay by itself; then the +bills according to denomination; last of all the silver and a slip of +brown paper with writing on it in lead-pencil. + +When all was complete, he nodded to Maggie to take charge of the +proceedings. + +Maggie hastily inspected the contents of the green box, and having +satisfied herself that it was all there, she laid it up, high and dry, +on the clock shelf. + +Then she hastily looked at the piles and read the slip of brown paper, +which seemed to stand for one sorrel pacer, one cutter, one set single +harness, two goat robes. + +"Rance," said Maggie, slowly, "we don't want a cent that don't belong +to us. I put Da at playing with you in the hope he would win all away +from you that you had, for we were bound to stop you from goin' away +with that dear girl if it could be done, and we knew you couldn't go +broke; but now you can't do any harm if you had all the money in the +world, for she's just gone home a few minutes ago with her man." + +Rance Belmont started forward with a smothered oath, which Mrs. Corbett +ignored. + +"So take your money and horse and all, Rance. It ain't me and Da would +keep a cent we haven't earned. Take it, Rance"--shoving it toward him-- +"there's no hard feelin's now, and good luck to you! Sure, I guess Da +enjoyed the game, and it seems he hadn't forgot the way." Maggie +Corbett could not keep a small note of triumph out of her voice. + +Rance Belmont gathered up the money without a word, and, putting on his +cap and overcoat, he left the Black Creek Stopping-House. John Corbett +carried the green box upstairs and put it carefully back in its place +of safety, while Maggie Corbett carefully peppered and salted the +potatoes in the pan. + + * * * * * + +When Robert Grant, of the Imperial Lumber Company, of Toronto, wakened +from his slumber it was broad daylight, and the yellow winter sun +poured in through the frosted panes. The events of the previous night +came back to him by degrees; the sore place on his face reminding him +of the slight difference of opinion between himself and his new friend, +young Mr. Brown. + +"Pretty nice, tasty room this young fellow has," he said to himself, +looking around at the many evidences of daintiness and good taste. +"He's a dandy fine young fellow, that Brown. I could take to him +without half trying." + +Then he became conscious of low voices in the next room. + +"Hello, Brown!" he called. + +Fred appeared in the doorway with a smiling face. + +"How do you feel this morning, Mr. Grant?" he asked. + +"I feel hungry," Mr. Grant declared. "I want some more of your good +prairie cooking. If I get another meal of it I believe I'll be able to +make friends with my son-in-law. When are you going to let me get up?" + +Just then there was a rustle of skirts and Evelyn came swiftly into the +room. + +"Oh, father! father!" she cried, kissing the old man over and over +again. "You will forgive me, won't you?" + +The old man's voice was husky with happy tears. + +"I guess we won't talk about forgiveness, dearie--we're about even, I +think--but we've had our lesson. I've got my girl back--and, Evelyn, I +want you and Fred to come home with me for Christmas and forever. +You've got the old man solid, Evelyn. I couldn't face a Christmas +without you." + +Evelyn kissed him again without speaking. + +"I will apologize to your man, Evelyn," the old man said, after a +pause. "I haven't treated the boy right. I hope he won't hold it +against me." + +"Not a bit of it," declared Evelyn. "You don't know Fred--that's all." + +"Oh, how did you get here, Evelyn? Do you live near here? I have been +so glad to see you I forgot to ask." + +"Mr. Brown brought me over," said Evelyn, unblushingly. "He came over +early this morning to tell me you were here. Wasn't it nice of him?" + +"He's a dandy fellow, this young Brown," said the old man, and then +stopped abruptly. + +Evelyn's eyes were sparkling with suppressed laughter. + +"But where is Fred?" her father asked, with an effort, and Evelyn +watched him girding himself for a painful duty. + +"I'll call him," she said, sweetly. + +The old man's grey eyes grew dark with excitement and surprise as his +friend Brown came into the room and stood beside Evelyn and quite +brazenly put his left arm around her waist. His face was a study in +emotions as his quick brain grasped the situation. With a prolonged +whistle he dropped back on the pillow, and pulling the counterpane over +his face he shook with laughter. + +"The joke is all on me," he cried. "I have been three or four different +kinds of a fool." + +Then he emerged from the bed-clothes and, sitting up, grasped Fred's +outstretched hand. + +"There's one thing, though, I am very proud of, Fred," he said; "I may +not be a good judge of humanity myself, but I am glad to know that my +girl had all her wits about her when she went to pick out a man for +herself!" + +Randolph and Reginald stayed in hiding until it was established beyond +all doubt that their brother Fred was alive and well. Then they came +back to the "Sailors' Rest," and life for them went on as before. + +At Christmas time a bulky letter and a small white box came addressed +to them, bearing the postmark of Bournemouth. + +The brothers seized their letter with undiluted joy; it was addressed +in a bold, masculine hand, a lawyer's undoubtedly--a striking though +perhaps not conclusive proof that Aunt Patience had winged her flight. + +They were a little bit disappointed that it had not black edges--they +had always imagined that the "blow" would come with black edges. + +Reginald opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor. + +Randolph opened it, read it, and let it fall to the floor. + +It contained a thick announcement card, with heavy gold edge, and the +news that it carried was to the effect that on December the first Miss +Priscilla Abigail Patience Brydon had been united in marriage to Rev. +Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland, Rector of St. Albans, Tilbury-on- +the-Stoke, and followed this with the information that Mr. and Mrs. +Alfred William Henry Curtis Moreland would be at home after January the +first in the Rectory, Appleblossom Court, Parklane Road, Tilbury-on- +the-Stoke. + +The envelope also contained a sweetly happy, fluttery little note from +Aunt Patience, saying she hoped they were well, and that she would try +to be a good mother to the Rector's four little boys. + +The small white box contained two squares of wedding cake! + + + + + + +THE RUNAWAY GRANDMOTHER + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Globe_, Toronto.) + +George Shaw came back to his desolate hearth, and, sitting by the +untidy table, thought bitter things of women. The stove dripped ashes; +the table overflowed with dirty dishes. + +His last housekeeper had been gone a week--she had left by request. +Incidentally there disappeared at the same time towels, pillow-covers, +a few small tools, and many other articles which are of a size to go in +a trunk. + +His former housekeeper, second to the last, had been a teary-eyed +English lady, who, as a child, had played with King George, and was +well beloved by all the Royal family. She had a soul above work, and +utterly despised Canadians. Once, when her employer remonstrated with +her for wearing his best overcoat when she went to milk, she fell +a-weeping and declared she wasn't going to be put on. Mr. Shaw said the +same thing about his coat, and it led to unpleasantness. The next day +he found her picking chips in his brown derby, and when he expressed +his disapproval she told him it was no fit hat for a young man like +him--he should have a topper. Mr. Shaw decided that he would try to do +without her. + +Before that he had had a red-cheeked Irishwoman, who cooked so well, +scrubbed so industriously, that he had thought his troubles were all +over. But one day she went to Millford, and came home in a state of +wild exhilaration, with more of the same in a large black bottle. When +Mr. Shaw came to put away the horse, she struck him over the head with +her handbag, playfully blackening one of his eyes, and then begged him +to come and make up--"kiss and forgit, like the swate pet that he was." + +Exit Mrs. Murphy. + +George Shaw decided to do his own cooking, but in three days every dish +in the house was dirty; the teapot was full of leaves, the stove full +of ashes, and the floor was slippery. + +George Shaw's farm lay parallel with the Souris River in that fertile +region which lies between the Brandon and the Tiger Hills. His fields +ran an unbroken mile, facing the Tiger Hills, blue with mist. He was a +successful young farmer, and he should have been a happy man without a +care in the world, but he did not look it as he sat wearily by his red +stove, with the deep furrows of care on his young face. + +The busy time was coming on; he needed another man, and he did hate +trying to do the cooking himself. + +As a last hope he decided to advertise. He hunted up his writing-pad +and wrote hastily: + +"Housekeeper wanted by a farmer; must be sober and steady. Good wages +to the right person. Apply to George Shaw, Millford, Man." + +He read it over reflectively. "There ought to be someone for me," he +said. "I am not hard to please. Any good, steady old lady who will give +me a bite to eat, not swear at me or wear my clothes or drink while on +duty will answer my purpose." + +Two days after his advertisement had appeared in the Brandon _Times_, +"she" arrived. + +Shaw saw a smart-looking woman gaily tripping along the road, and his +heart failed. + +As she drew near, however, he was relieved to find that her hair was +snowy white. + +"Good evening, Mr. Shaw!" she called to him as soon as she was within +speaking distance. + +"Good evening, madam," he replied, lifting his hat. + +"I just asked along the road until I found you," she said, untying her +bonnet strings; "I knew this lonesome little house must be the place. +No trees, no flowers, no curtains, no washing on the line--I could tell +there was no woman around." She was fixing her hair at his little glass +as she spoke. "Now, son, run out and get a few chips for the fire, and +we'll have a bite of supper in a few minutes." + +Shaw brought the chips. + +"Now, what do you say to pancakes for supper?" + +Shaw declared that nothing would suit him so well as pancakes. + +The fire crackled merrily under the kettle, and soon the two of them +were sitting down to an appetizing meal of pancakes and syrup, boiled +eggs and tea. + +"Land sakes, George, you must have had your own time with those +housekeepers of yours! Some of them drank, eh? I could tell that by the +piece you put in the paper. But never mind them now; I'll soon have you +feeling fine as silk. How's your socks? Toes out, I'll bet. Well, I'll +hunt you up a pair, if there's any to be found. If I can't find any you +can go to bed when you get your chores done, and I'll wash out them +you've on--I can't bear my men folks to have their toes out; a hole in +the heel ain't so bad, it's behind you and you can forget it, but a +hole in the toe is always in your way no matter which way you're +going." + +After supper, when Shaw was out doing his chores, he could see her +bustling in and out of the house; now she was beating his bedclothes on +the line; in another minute she was leaning far out of a bedroom window +dusting a pillow. + +When he came into the house she reported that her search for stockings, +though vigorous, had been vain. He protested a little about having to +go to bed when the sun was shining, but she insisted. + +"I'm sorry, George," she said, "to have to make you go to bed, but it's +the only thing we can do. You'll find your bed feels a lot better since +I took the horse collar and the pair of rubber boots out from under the +mattress. That's a poor place to keep things. Good-night now--don't +read lying down." + +When he went upstairs Shaw noticed with dismay that his lamp had gone +from the box beside his bed. So he was not likely to disobey her last +injunction--at least, not for any length of time. + +Just at daylight the next morning there came a knock at his door. + +"Come, George--time to get up!" + +When he came in from feeding his horses a splendid breakfast was on the +table. + +"Here's your basin, George; go out and have a good wash. Here's your +comb; it's been lost for quite awhile. I put a towel out there for you, +too. Hurry up now and get your vittles while they are nice!" + +When Shaw came to the table she regarded him with pleasure. + +"You're a fine-looking boy, George, when you're slicked up," she said. +"Now bow your head until we say grace! There, now pitch in and tell me +how you like grandma's cooking." + +Shaw ate heartily and praised everything. + +A few days afterwards she said, "Now, George, I guess I'll have to ask +you to go to town and get some things we need for the house." + +Shaw readily agreed, and took out his paper and pencil. + +"Soap, starch, ten yards of cheesecloth--that's for curtains," she +said. "I'll knit lace for them, and they'll look real dressy; toilet +soap, sponge and nailbrush--that's for your bath, George; you haven't +been taking them as often as you should, or the hoops wouldn't have +come off your tub. You can't cheat Nature, George; she always tells on +you. Ten yards flannelette--that's for night-shirts; ten yards +sheeting--that's for your bed--and your white shirts are pretty far +gone." + +"How do you know?" he asked in surprise; "they are all in my trunk." + +"Yes, I know, and the key is in that old cup on the stand, and I know +how to unlock a trunk, don't I?" she replied with dignity. "You need +new shirts all right, but just get one. I never could abear them +boughten shirts, they are so skimpy in the skirt; I'll make you some +lovely ones, with blue and pink flossin' down the front." + +He looked up alarmed. + +"Then about collars," she went on serenely. "You have three, but +they're not in very good shape, though, of course, you couldn't expect +anything better of them, kept in that box with the nails--oh, I found +them, George, you needn't look so surprised. You see I know something +about boys--I have three of my own." A shadow passed over her face and +she sighed. "Well, I guess that is all for to-day. Be sure to get your +mail and hurry home." + +"Shall I tell the postmaster to put your mail in my box?" he asked. + +"Oh, no, never mind--I ain't expectin' any," she said, and Shaw drove +away wondering. + +A few nights after she said, "Well, George, I suppose you are wonderin' +now who this old lady is, though I am not to say real old either." + +"Indeed you are not old," Shaw declared with considerable gallantry; +"you are just in your prime." + +She regarded him gratefully. "You're a real nice boy, George," she +said, "and there ain't going to be no secrets between us. If you wet +your feet, or tear your clothes, don't try to hide it. Don't keep +nothing from me and I won't keep nothing from you. Now I'll tell you +who I am and all about it. I am Mrs. Peter Harris, of Owen Sound, +Ontario, and I have three sons here in the West. They've all done well, +fur as money goes. I came up to visit them. I came from Bert's here. I +couldn't stand the way Bert's folks live. Mind you, they burn their +lights all night, and they told me it doesn't cost a cent more. Land o' +liberty! They can't fool me. If lights burn, someone pays--and the +amount of hired help they keep is something scandalous. Et, that is +Bert's wife, is real smart, and they have two hired girls, besides +their own two girls, and they get in a woman to wash besides. I wanted +them to let the two girls go while I was there, but no, sir! Et says, +'Grandma, you didn't come here to work, you must just rest.' They +wouldn't let me do a thing, and that brazen hired girl--the housemaid, +they call her--one day even made my bed; and, mind you, George, she put +the narrow hem on the sheet to the top, and she wasn't a bit ashamed +when I told her. She said she hoped it didn't make me feel that I was +standin' on my head all night; and the way that woman hung out the +clothes was a perfect scandal!" Her voice fell to an awed whisper. "She +hangs the underwear in plain sight. I ain't never been used to the like +of that! I could not stay. Bert is kind enough, so is Et, and they have +one girl, Maud, that I really do like. She is twenty-one, but, of +course, brought up the way she has been, she is awful ignorant for that +age. Mind you, that girl had never turned the heel of a stocking until +I got her at it, but Maud can learn. I'd take that girl quick, and +bring her up like my own, if Bert would let me. Well, anyway, I could +not put up with the way they live, and I just ran away." + +"You ran away!" echoed Shaw. "They'll be looking for you!" + +"Let 'em look!" said the old lady, grimly. "They won't ever find me +here." + +"I'll hide you in the haymow, and if they come in here to search for +you I'll declare I never knew you--I am prepared to do desperate +things," Shaw declared. + +"George, if they ever get in here--that is, Et anyway--she'll know who +did the fixin' up. There ain't many that know how to do this Rocky Road +to Dublin that is on your lounge. Et would know who'd been here." + +"That settles it!" declared Shaw. "Et shall not enter. If Et gets in it +shall be over my prostrate form, but maybe it would be better for you +to take the Rocky Road with you to the hayloft!" + +The old lady laughed heartily. "Ain't we happy, George, you and me? +I've tried all my own, and they won't let me have one bit of my own +way. Out at Edward's--he's a lawyer at Regina--I tried to get them all +to go to bed at half-past ten--late enough, too, for decent people--and +didn't Edward's wife get real miffed over it? And then I went to Tom's +--he's a doctor down at Winnipeg, but he's all gone to politics; he was +out night after night makin' speeches, and he had a young fellow +lookin' after his practice who wouldn't know a corn from a gumboil only +they grow in different places. Tom's pa and me spent good money on his +education, and it's hard for us to see him makin' no use of it. He was +nice enough to me, wanted me to stay and be company for Edith, but I +told him he should try to be company for Edith himself. Well, he didn't +get elected--that's one comfort. I believe it was an answer to prayer. +Maybe he'll settle down to his doctorin' now. Then I went to Bert's, +and I soon saw I could not stay there. Just as soon as I saw your +little bit in the paper, I says, 'The Lord has opened a door!' I gave +Maud a hint that I would clear out some day and go where I would be let +work, and the dear child says to me, 'Grandma, if I ever get a house of +my own you can come and live with me, and you can do every bit of the +work, and everyone will have to do just what you say; they'll have to +go to bed at sundown if you say so.' Maud's the best one I have +belongin' to me. She'll give them a hint that I'm all right." + +But Shaw was apprehensive. He knew who Bert was, and he had +uncomfortable visions of Mr. Albert Harris driving up to his door some +day and demanding that Mrs. Peter Harris, his mother, immediately come +home with him; and the fear and dread of former housekeepers swept over +George Shaw's soul. No, he would not give her up! Of course, there were +times when he thought she was rather exacting, and when he felt some +sympathy for Edward's wife forgetting "miffed." + +When she was with him about a week she announced that he must have a +daily bath! "It is easier to wash you than the bed-clothes, that's one +reason," she said, "and it's good for you besides. That's what's wrong +with lots of young boys; they git careless and dirty, and then they +take to smoking and drinking just natcherally. A clean hide, mind you, +is next to a clean heart. Now go along upstairs; everything is ready +for you." + +Henceforth there was no danger of the hoops falling off the tub, for it +was in daily use, and, indeed, it was not many nights until George Shaw +looked forward with pleasure to his nightly wash. + +The old lady's face glowed with pleasure as she went about her work, or +sat sewing in the shade of the house. At her instigation Shaw had put +up a shed for his machinery, which formerly had littered the yard, and +put his wood in even piles. + +The ground fell away in a steep ravine, just in front of the house, and +pink wild roses and columbine hung in profusion over the spring which +gushed out of the bank. Away to the east were the sand-hills of the +Assiniboine--the bad lands of the prairie, their surface peopled with +stiff spruce trees that stand like sentries looking, always looking out +across the plain! + +Mrs. Harris often sat with her work in the shade of the house, on +pleasant afternoons, looking at this peaceful scene, and her heart was +full of gladness and content. + +The summer passed pleasantly for George Shaw and his cheery old +housekeeper. Not a word did they hear from "Bert's" folks. + +"I would like to see Maud," Mrs. Harris said one night to Shaw as she +sat knitting a sock for him beside their cheerful fireside. He was +reading. + +"What is Maud like?" he asked. + +"Maud favors my side of the house," she answered. "She's a pretty good- +looking girl, very much the hi'th and complexion I used to be when I +was her age. You'd like Maud fine if you saw her, George." + +"I don't want to see her," Shaw replied, "for I am afraid that the +coming of Maud might mean the departure of Grandma, and that would be a +bad day for me." + +"I ain't goin' to leave you, George, and I believe Maud would be +reasonable if she did come! She'd see how happy we are!" + +It was in the early autumn that Maud came. The grain had all been cut +and stacked, and was waiting for the thresher to come on its rounds. +Shaw was ploughing in the field in front of his house when Maud came +walking briskly up the road just as her grandmother had done four +months before! The trees in the poplar grove beside the road were +turning red and yellow with autumn, and Maud, in her red-brown suit and +hat, looked as if she belonged to the picture. + +Some such thought as this struggled in Shaw's brain and shone in his +eyes as he waited for her at the headland. + +He raised his hat as she drew near. Maud went right into the subject. + +"Have you my grandmother?" she asked. + +Shaw hesitated--the dreaded moment had come. Visions of former +housekeepers--dirty dishes, unmade bed, dust, flies, mice--rose before +him and tempted him to say "no," but something stronger and better, +perhaps it was the "clean hide" prompting the clean heart, spoke up in +him. + +"I have your grandmother," he said slowly, "and she is very well and +happy." + +"Will you give her up?" was Maud's next question. + +"Never!" he answered stoutly; "and she won't give me up, either. Your +grandmother and I are very fond of each other, I would like you to +know--but come in and see her." + +That night after supper, which proved to be a very merry meal in spite +of the shadow which had fallen across the little home, Mrs. Harris said +almost tearfully: "I can't leave this pore lamb, Maud--there's no +knowin' what will happen to him." + +"I will go straight back to the blanket and dog soup," Shaw declared +with cheerful conviction. "You can't imagine the state things were in +when your grandmother came--bed not made since Christmas, horsenails +for buttons, comb and brush lost but not missed, wash basin rusty! Your +grandmother, of course, has been severe with me--she makes me go to bed +before sundown. Yet I refuse to part with her. Who takes your +grandmother takes me; and now, Miss Maud, it is your move!" + +That night when they sat in the small sitting-room with a bright fire +burning in the shining stove, Maud felt her claim on her grandmother +growing more and more shadowy. Mrs. Harris was in a radiant humor. She +was knitting lace for the curtains, and chatted gaily as she worked. + +"You see, Maud, I am never lonely here; it's a real heartsome place to +live. There's the trains goin' by twice a day, and George here is a +real good hand to read out to me. We're not near done with the book +we're reading, and I am anxious to see if Adam got the girl. He was set +on havin' her, but some of her folks were in for makin' trouble." + +"Folks sometimes do!" said Shaw, meaningly. + +"Well, I can't go until we finish the book," the old lady declared, +"and we see how the story comes out, and I don't believe Maud is the +one to ask it." + +Maud made a pretty picture as she sat with one shapely foot on the +fender of the stove, the firelight dancing on her face and hair. Shaw, +looking at her, forgot the errand on which she came--forgot everything +only that she was there. + +"Light the lamp and read a bit of the book now," Mrs. Harris said. +"Maud'll like it, I know. She's the greatest girl for books!" + +Shaw began to read. It was "The Kentucky Cardinal" he read, that +exquisite love-story, that makes us lovers all, even if we never have +been, or worse still, have forgotten. Shaw loved the book, and read it +tenderly, and Maud, leaning back in her chair, found her heart warmed +with a sudden great content. + +A week later Shaw and Maud walked along the river bank and discussed +the situation. Autumn leaves carpeted the ground beneath their feet, +and the faint murmur of the river below as it slipped over its pebbly +bed came faintly to their ears. In the sky above them, wild geese with +flashing white wings honked away toward the south, and a meadow lark, +that jolly fellow who comes early and stays late, on a red-leafed +haw-tree poured out his little heart in melody. + +"You see, Mr. Shaw," Maud was saying, "it doesn't look right for +Grandma to be living with a stranger when she has so many of her own +people. I know she is happy with you--happier than she has been with +any of us--but what will people think? It looks as if we didn't care +for her, and we do. She is the sweetest old lady in the world." Maud +was very much in earnest. + +Shaw's eyes followed the wild geese until they faded into tiny specks +on the horizon. Then he turned and looked straight into her face. + +"Maud," he said, with a strange vibration in his voice, "I know a way +out of the difficulty; a real good, pleasant way, and by it your +grandmother can continue to live with me, and still be with her own +folks. Maud, can you guess it?" + +The blush that spread over Maud's face indicated that she was a good +guesser! + +Then the meadow-lark, all unnoticed, hopped a little nearer, and sang +sweeter than ever. Not that anybody was listening, either! + + + + +THE RETURN TICKET + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Canadian Ladies' Home Journal_.) + +In the station at Emerson, the boundary town, we were waiting for the +Soo train, which comes at an early hour in the morning. It was a +bitterly cold, dark, winter morning; the wires overhead sang dismally +in the wind, and even the cheer of the big coal fire that glowed in the +rusty stove was dampened by the incessant mourning of the storm. + +Along the walls, on the benches, sat the trackmen, in their sheepskin +coats and fur caps, with earlaps tied tightly down. They were tired and +sleepy, and sat in every conceivable attitude expressive of sleepiness +and fatigue. A red lantern, like an evil eye, gleamed from one dark +corner; in the middle of the floor were several green lamps turned low, +and over against the wall hung one barred lantern whose bright little +gleam of light reminded one uncomfortably of a small, live mouse in a +cage, caught and doomed, but undaunted still. The telegraph instruments +clicked at intervals. Two men, wrapped in overcoats, stood beside the +stove and talked in low tones about the way real estate was increasing +in value in Winnipeg. + +The door opened and a big fellow, another snow shoveller, came in +hurriedly, letting in a burst of flying snow that sizzled on the hot +stove. It did not rouse the sleepers from the bench; neither did the +new-comer's remark that it was a "deuce of a night" bring forth any +argument--we were one on that point. + +The train was late; the night agent told us that when he came out to +shovel in more coal--"she" was delayed by the storm. + +I leaned back and tried to be comfortable. After all, I thought, it +might easily be worse. I was going home after a pleasant visit. I had +many agreeable things to think of, and still I kept thinking to myself +that it was not a cheerful night. The clock, of course, indicated that +it was morning, but the deep black that looked in through the frosted +windows, the heavy shadows in the room, which the flickering lanterns +only seemed to emphasize, were all of the night, and bore no relation +to the morning. + +The train came at last with a roar that drowned the voice of the storm. +The sleepers on the bench sprang up like one man, seized their +lanterns, and we all rushed out together. The long coach that I entered +was filled with tired, sleepy-looking people, who had been sitting up +all night. They were curled up uncomfortably, making a brave attempt to +rest, all except one little old lady, who sat upright, looking out into +the black night. When the official came to ask the passengers where +they were going, I heard her tell him that she was a Canadian, and she +had been "down in the States with Annie, and now she was bringing Annie +home," and as she said this she pointed significantly ahead to the +baggage car. + +There was something about the old lady that appealed to me. I went over +to her when the official had gone out. No, she wasn't tired, she said; +she "had been up a good many nights, and been worried some, but the +night before last she had had a real good sleep." + +She was quite willing to talk; the long black night had made her glad +of companionship. + +"I took Annie to Rochester, down in Minnesota, to see the doctors +there--the Mayos--did you ever hear of the Mayos? Well, Dr. Smale, at +Rose Valley, said they were her only hope. Annie had been ailing for +years, and Dr. Smale had done all he could for her. Dr. Moore, our old +doctor, wouldn't hear of it; he said an operation would kill her, but +Annie was set on going. I heard Annie say to him that she'd rather die +than live sick, and she would go to Rochester. Dave Johnston--Annie's +man, that is--he drinks, you know--" + +The old lady's voice fell and her tired old face seemed to take on +deeper lines of trouble as she sat silent with her own sad thoughts. I +expressed my sorrow. + +"Yes, Annie had her own troubles, poor girl," she said at last; "and +she was a good girl, Annie was, and she deserved something better. She +was a tender-hearted girl, and gentle and quiet, and never talked back +to anyone, to Dave least of all, for she worshipped the very ground he +walked on, and married him against all our wishes. She thought she +could reform him!" + +She said it sadly, but without bitterness. + +"Was he good to her?" I asked. People draw near together in the stormy +dark of a winter's morning, and the thought of Annie in her narrow box +ahead robbed my question of any rudeness. + +"He was good to her in his own way," Annie's mother said, trying to be +quite just, "but it was a rough way. She had a fine, big, brick house +to live in--it was a grand house, but it was a lonely house. He often +went away and stayed for weeks, and her not knowing where he was or how +he would come home. He worried her always. The doctor said that was +part of her trouble--he worried her too much." + +"Did he ever try to stop drinking?" I asked. I wanted to think better +of him if I could. + +"Yes, he did; he was sober once for nearly a year, and Annie's health +was better than it had been for years, but the crowd around the hotel +there in Rose Valley got after him every chance, and one Christmas Day +they got him going again. Annie never could bear to mention about him +drinkin' to anyone, not even me--it would ha' been easier on her if she +could ha' talked about it, but she wasn't one of the talkin' kind." + +We sat in silence, listening to the pounding of the rails. + +"Everybody was kind to her in Rochester," she said, after a while. +"When we were sitting there waitin' our turn--you know how the sick +people wait there in two long rows, waitin' to be taken in to the +consultin' room, don't you? Well, when we were sittin' there Annie was +sufferin' pretty bad, and we were still a long way from the top of the +line. Dr. Judd was takin' them off as fast as he could, and the +ambulances were drivin' off every few minutes, takin' them away to the +hospital after the doctors had decided what was wrong with them. Some +of them didn't need to go to the hospital at all--they're the best off, +I think. We got talkin' to the people around us--they are there from +all over the country, with all kinds of diseases, poor people. Well, +there was a man from Kansas City who had been waitin' a week, but had +got up now second to the end, and I noticed him lookin' at Annie. I was +fannin' her and tryin' to keep her cheered up. Her face was a bad color +from the pain she was in, and what did this man do but git up and come +down to us and tell Annie that she could have his place. He said he +wasn't in very bad pain now, and he would take her place. He made very +little of it, but it meant a lot to us, and to him, too, poor fellow. +Annie didn't want to do it, but he insisted. Sick folks know how to be +kind to sick folks, I tell you." + +The dawn began to show blue behind the frost ferns on the window and +the lamps overhead looked pale and sickly in the grey light. + +"Annie had her operation on Monday," she went on after a long pause. +"She was lookin' every day for a letter from Dave, and when the doctor +told her they would operate on her on Monday morning early, she asked +him if he would mind putting it off until noon. She thought there would +be a letter from Dave, for sure, on that morning's mail. The doctor was +very kind to her--they understand a lot, them Mayos--and he did put it +off. In the ward with Annie there was a little woman from Saskatchewan, +that was a very bad case. She talked to us a lot about her man and her +four children. She had a real good man by what she said. They were on a +homestead near Quill Lake, and she was so sure she'd get well. The +doctor was very hopeful of Annie, and said she had nine chances out of +ten of getting better, but this little woman's was a worse case. Dr. +Will Mayo told her she had just one chance in ten---but, dear me, she +was a brave woman; she spoke right up quick, and says she, 'That's all +I want; I'll get well if I've only half a chance. I've got to; Jim and +the children can't do without me.' Jim was her man. When they came to +take her out into the operating room they couldn't give her ether, some +way. She grabbed the doctor's hand, and says she, kind of chokin' up, +all at once, 'You'll do your best for Jim's sake, won't you?' and he +says, says he, 'My dear woman, I'll do my best for your sake.' Busy and +all as they are, they're the kindest men in the world, and just before +they began to operate the nurse brought her a letter from Jim and read +it to her, and she held it in her hand through it all, and when they +wheeled her back into the ward after the operation, it was still in her +hand, though she had fainted dead away." + +"Did Annie get her letter?" I asked her. + +My companion did not answer at once, but I knew very well that the +letter had not come. + +"She didn't ask for it at the last; she just looked at me before they +put the gauze thing over her face. I knew what she meant. I had been +down to see if it had come, and they told me all the mails were in for +the day from the West. She just looked at me so pitiful, but it was +like Annie not to ask. A letter from Dave would have comforted her so, +but it didn't come, though I wired him two days before telling him when +the operation would be. Annie was wonderful cheerful and calm, but I +was trembling like a leaf when they were givin' her the ether, and when +they wheeled her out all so stiff and white I just seemed to feel I'd +lost my girl." + +I took the old lady's hand and tried to whisper words of comfort. She +returned the pressure of my hand; her eyes were tearless, and her voice +did not even waver, but the thought of poor Annie going into the valley +unassured by any loving word gave free passage to my tears. + +"Did Dave write or wire?" I asked when I could speak. + +"No, not a word; he's likely off on a spree." The old lady spoke +bitterly now. "Everybody was kind to my Annie but him, and it was a +word from him that would have cheered her the most. Dr. Mayo came and +sat beside her just an hour before she died, and says he, 'You still +have a chance, Mrs. Johnston,' but Annie just thanked him again for his +kindness and sort o' shook her head..... + +"The little woman from Saskatchewan didn't do well at all after the +operation, and Dr. Mayo was afraid she wouldn't pull through. She asked +him what chance she had, and he told her straight--the Mayos always +tell the truth--that she had only one chance in a hundred. She was so +weak that he had to bend down to hear her whisperin', 'I'll take that +one chance!'" + +"And did she?" I asked eagerly. + +"She was still living when I left. She will get better, I think. She +has a very good man, by what she was tellin' us, and a woman can stand +a lot if she has a good man," the old lady said, with the wisdom born +of experience. "I've nursed around a lot, and I've always noticed +that!" + +I have noticed it, too, though I've never "nursed around." + +"Dave came with us to the station the day we left home. He was sober +that day, and gave Annie plenty of money. Annie told him to get a +return ticket for her, too. I said he'd better get just a single for +her, for she might have to stay longer than a month; but she said no, +she'd be back in a month, all right. Dave seemed pleased to hear her +talk so cheerful. When she got her ticket she sat lookin' at it a long +time. I knew what she was thinkin'. She never was a girl to talk +mournful, and when the conductor tore off the goin' down part she gave +me the return piece, and she says, 'You take this, mother.' I knew that +she was thinkin' what the return half might be used for." + +We changed cars at Newton, and I stood with the old lady and watched +the trainmen unload the long box. They threw off trunks, boxes and +valises almost viciously, but when they lifted up the long box their +manner changed and they laid it down as tenderly as if they had known +something of Annie and her troubled life. + +We sent another telegram to Dave, and then sat down in the waiting-room +to wait for the west train. The wind drove the snow in billows over the +prairie, and the early twilight of the morning was bitterly cold. + +Her train came first, and again the long box was gently put aboard. On +the wind-swept platform Annie's mother and I shook hands without a +word, and in another minute the long train was sweeping swiftly across +the white prairie. I watched it idly, thinking of Annie and her sad +home-going. Just then the first pale beams of the morning sun glinted +on the last coach, and touched with fine gold the long white smoke +plume, which the wind carried far over the field. There is nothing so +cheerful as the sunshine, and as I sat in the little grey waiting-room, +watching the narrow golden beam that danced over the closed wicket, I +could well believe that a rest remains for Annie, and that she is sure +of a welcome at her journey's end. And as the sun's warmth began to +thaw the tracery of frost on the window, I began to hope that God's +grace may yet find out Dave, and that he too may "make good" in the +years to come. As for the little woman from Quill Lake, who was still +willing to take the one chance, I have never had the slightest doubt. + + + + +THE UNGRATEFUL PIGEONS + +Philip was a little boy, with a generous growth of freckles, and a +loving heart. Most people saw only the freckles, but his mother never +lost sight of his affectionate nature. So when, one warm spring day, he +sat moodily around the house, she was ready to listen to his grievance. + +"I want something for a pet," said Philip. "I have no dog or cat or +anything!" + +"What would you like the very best of all?" his mother asked, with the +air of a fairy godmother. + +"I want pigeons! They are so pretty and white and soft, and they lay +eggs and hatch young ones." + +All his gloom had vanished! + +"How much a pair?" asked his mother. + +"Twenty-five cents out at Crane's. They have millions of them; I can +walk out--it's only five miles." + +"Where will we put them when you bring them home?" she asked. + +Philip thought they could share his room, but this suggestion was +promptly rejected! + +Then Philip's father was hurriedly interviewed by Philip's mother, and +he agreed to nail a box on the end of the stable, far beyond the reach +of prowling cats, and Philip, armed with twenty-five cents, set forth +gaily on his five-mile walk. It was Saturday morning, and a beautiful +day of glittering April sunshine. The sun was nearly down when Philip +returned, tired but happy. It seemed there had been some trouble in +catching them. The quoted price of twenty-five cents a pair was for +raw, uncaught pigeons, but Philip had succeeded at last and brought +back two beauties, one with blue markings, and the other one almost +white. + +The path of true love never ran smooth; difficulties were encountered +at once. Philip put a generous supply of straw in one end of the box +for a bed, but when he put them in they turned round and round as if +they were not quite satisfied with their lodgings. Then Philip had one +of those dazzling ideas which so often led to trouble with the other +members of his family. He made a hurried visit to Rose's--his sister's +--room. Rose was a grown-up lady of twelve. + +When he came back, he brought with him a dove-grey chiffon auto veil, +the kind that was much favored that spring by young ladies in Rose's +set, for a head protection instead of hats. + +Rose's intimate friend, Hattie Matthews, had that very day put a knot +in each side, which made it fit very artistically on Rose's head. +Philip carefully untied the knots, and draped it over the straw. The +effect was beautiful. Philip exclaimed with delight! They looked so +pretty and "woozy"! + +In the innocence of his heart, he ran into the house, for Rose; he +wanted her to rejoice with him. + +Rose's language was pointed, though dignified, and the pretty sight was +ruthlessly broken up. Philip's mother, however, stepped into the gap, +and produced an old, pale blue veil of her own, which was equally +becoming. + +It was she, too, who proposed a pigeon book, and a very pleasant time +was spent making it,--for it was not a common book, bought with money, +but one made by loving hands. Several sheets of linen notepaper were +used for the inside, with stiff yellow paper for the cover, the whole +fastened with pale blue silk. Then Philip printed on the cover: + +Philip Brown, +Pigeon Book, + +but not in any ordinary, plain, little bits of letters! Each capital +was topped off with an arrow, and ended with a feather, and even the +small letters had a thick blanket of dots. + +The first entry was as follows: + +April 7th.--_I wocked out to Crane's, and got 2 fantales. they are hard +to ketch. I payed 25 scents. My father knailed a box on the stable, and +I put in a bed of straw, they are bootiful. my sister would not let me +have her vale, but I got one prettier. they look woozy_. + +The next day, Sunday, Philip did not see how he could go to church or +Sunday-school--he had not time, he said, but his mother agreed to watch +the pigeons, and so his religious obligations did not need to be set +aside. + +Monday afternoon the Browns' back yard was full of little boys +inspecting Philip's pigeons, not merely idle onlookers, but hard-headed +poultry fanciers, as shown by the following entry: + +April 9th.--_I sold a pare of white ones to-day to Wilfred Garbett, to +be kept three weeks after birth, Eva Gayton wants a pare too any color, +in July. She paid for them_. + +Under this entry, which was made laboriously in ink, there was another +one, in lead pencil, done by Philip's brother, Jack: + +_This is called selling Pigeons short_. + +Philip's friends recommended many and varied things for the pigeons to +eat, and he did his best to supply them all, as far as his slender +means allowed; he went to the elevator for wheat; he traded his good +jack-knife for two mouse-eaten and anaemic heads of squaw-corn, which +were highly recommended by an unscrupulous young Shylock, who had just +come to town and was short of a jack-knife. His handkerchief, +scribblers and pencils mysteriously disappeared, but other articles +came in their place: a small round mirror advertising corsets on the +back (Gordon Smith said pigeons liked a looking-glass--it made them +more contented to stay at home); a small swing out of a birdcage, which +was duly put in place (vendor Miss Edie Beal, owner unknown). Of +course, it was too small for pigeons, but there were going to be little +ones very soon, weren't there? + +He also brought to them one day five sunflower seeds, recommended and +sold by a mild-eyed little Murphy girl, who had the stubby fingers of a +money-maker. Philip, being very low in funds that day, wanted her to +accept prospective eggs in payment, but the stubby-fingered Miss Murphy +preferred currency! Philip decided to make no entry of these +transactions in his Pigeon Book. + +His young brother, Barrie, began to be troublesome about this time, and +to evince an unwholesome interest in the pigeons. The ladder, which was +placed against the stable under their house, at first seemed to him too +high to climb, but seeing the multitude of delighted spectators who +went up and down without accident, he resolved to try it, too, and so +successfully that he was able after a few attempts to carry a stick +with him, stand on the highest rung, and poke up the pigeons. + +One day he was caught--with the goods--by Philip himself. So indignant +was Philip that for a moment he stood speechless. His young brother, +jarred by a guilty conscience and fear of Philip, came hastily down the +ladder, raising a few bruises on his anatomy as he came. Even in his +infant soul he felt he deserved all he had got, and thought best not to +mention the occurrence. Philip, too, generously kept quiet about it, +feeling that the claims of justice had been met. The only dissatisfied +parties in the transaction were the pigeons. + +The next Sunday in Sabbath School there was a temperance lesson, and +Barrie Brown quoted the Golden Text with a slight variation--"At the +last it biteth like a serpent and stingeth like a _ladder_!" + +Philip was the only one who knew what he meant, and he said it served +him good and right. + +The following entry appears in the Pigeon Book: + +_My brother Barrie poks them, but he got his leson. tomoro I'll let +them out--there fond enough of home now I gess_. + +The next day being Saturday, when Philip could watch them, he let them +out. All day long his heart was torn with pride and fear--they looked +so beautiful, circling and wheeling over the stable and far away across +the road, and yet his heart was chill with the fear that they would +never return. + +That night the Pigeon Book received the following entry: + +April 21st.--_I let them out and, they came back--they are sweet pets. +I dreem about them every night I have two dreems, my good dreem is +the've layd my bad dreem is about tomcats and two little heaps of +fethers its horrid_. + +The next week another entry went into the book: + +_I sold another pare to-day I've raised the price this pare is to be +delivered in Ogist. I gave them a bran mash to-day, it makes them lay +sure._ + +Under this Jack wrote: + +_Thinking of the August delivery_. + +The next entry was this: + +May 1st.--_Wilfred G. is pritty meen, he thinks he knows it all. they +aint goin to lay all in a hurry._ + +There seemed to be no doubt about this. They certainly were not. In +spite of bran mashes, pepper, cotton batting, blue veil and tender +care, they refused to even consider the question of laying. + +Philip was quite satisfied with them as they were, if they would only +stay with him, but the customers who had bought and paid for highly +recommended young fowl were inclined to be impatient and even +unpleasant when the two parent birds were to be seen gadding around the +street at all hours of the day, utterly regardless of their young +master's promises. + +Philip learned to call them. His "cutacutacoo--cutacutacoo" could be +heard up and down the street. Sometimes they seemed to pay a little +attention to him, and then his joy was full. More often they seemed to +say, "Cutacutacoo yourself!" or some such saucy word, and fly farther +away. + +One night they did not come home. Philip's most insistent "cutacutacoo" +brought no response. He hired boys to help him to look for them, +beggaring himself of allies and marbles, even giving away his Lucky +Shooter, a mottled pee-wee, to a lynx-eyed young hunter who claimed to +be able to see in the dark. He even dared the town constable by staying +out long after the curfew had rung, looking and asking. No one had seen +them. + +Through the night it rained, a cold, cruel rain--or so it seemed to the +sad-hearted, wide-awake little boy. He stole out quietly, afraid that +he might be sent back to bed, but only his mother heard him, and she +understood. It was lonesome and dark outside, but love lighted his way. +He groped his way up the ladder, hoping to find them, but though the +straw, the cotton batting, the blue veil, the water-dish were all in +place--there were no pigeons! + +Philip came back to bed, cold and wet in body, but his heart colder +still with fear, and his face wetter with tears. Under cover of the +night a boy of ten can cry all he wants to. + +His mother, who heard him going out and who understood, called softly +to him to come to her room, and then sympathized. She said they were +safe enough, never fear, with some flock of pigeons; they had got +lonesome, that was all; they would come back when they got hungry, and +the rain would not hurt them, and be sure to wipe his feet! + +The next day they were found across the street with Jerry Andrews' +pigeons, as unconcerned as you please. Philip parted with his Lost Heir +game--about the only thing he had left--to get Jerry to help him to +catch them when they were roosting. He shut them up for a few days and +worked harder than ever, if that were possible, to try to please them. + +The Pigeon Book would have been neglected only for his mother, who said +it was only right to put in the bad as well as the good. That was the +way with all stories. Philip made this entry: + +_They went away and staid and had to be brot back by force I guess they +were lonesome. I don't know why they don't like me--I like them_! + +When his mother read that she said, "Poor little fellow," and made +pancakes for tea. + +In a few days he let them out again, and watched them with a pale face. + +They did not hesitate a minute, but flew straight away down the street +to the place they had been before, to the place where the people often +made pies of pigeons and were not ashamed to tell it! + +Philip followed them silently, not having the heart to call. + +"Say, Phil," the boy of the pigeon loft called--he was a stout boy who +made money out of everything--"I guess they ain't goin' to stay with +you. You might as well sell out to me. I'll give you ten cents for the +pair. I'm goin' to sell a bunch to the hotel on Saturday." + +An insane desire to fight him took hold of Philip. He turned away +without speaking. + +At school that day he approached the pigeon boy and made the +proposition that filled the boy with astonishment: "I'll give them to +you, Jerry," he said, hurriedly, "if you promise not to kill them. It's +all right! I guess I won't bother with pigeons--I think I'll get a dog +--or something," he ended lamely. + +Jerry was surprised, but being a business man he closed the deal on the +spot. When Philip went home he put his pigeon book away. + +There was a final entry, slightly smeared and very badly written: + +_They are ungrateful broots_! + + + +YOU NEVER CAN TELL + +(Reprinted by permission of _Saturday Night_, Toronto.) + +It was at exactly half-past three in the afternoon of a hot June day +that Mrs. Theodore Banks became smitten with the idea. Mrs. Banks often +said afterwards she did not know how she came to be thinking about the +Convention of the Arts and Crafts at all, although she is the +Secretary. The idea was so compelling that Mrs. Banks rushed down town +to tell Mr. Banks--she felt she could not depend on the telephone. + +"Ted," she cried, when she opened the door of the office, "I have an +idea!" + +Theodore raised his eyelids. + +Mrs. Banks was flushed and excited and looked well. Mrs. Banks was a +handsome woman any time, and to-day her vivacity was quite genuine. + +"You know the Convention of the Arts and Crafts--which begins on the +twentieth." + +"I've heard of it--somewhere." + +"Well, it just came to me, Teddy, what a perfectly heavenly thing it +would be to invite that little Mrs. Dawson, who writes reviews for one +of the papers here--you remember I told you about her--she is awfully +clever and artistic and good-looking, and lives away off from every +place, and her husband is not her equal at all--perfectly illiterate, +I heard--uncultured anyway. What a perfect joy it would be to her to +have her come, and meet with people who are her equals. She's an Ottawa +girl originally, I believe, and she does write the most perfectly sweet +and darling things--you remember I've read them for you. Of course, she +is probably very shabby and out of date in her clothes by this time. +But it doesn't really matter what one wears, if one has heaps of +brains. It is only dull women, really, who have to be so terribly +careful about what they wear, and spend so much money that way!" + +"Dull women!" Theodore murmured. "Oh! is that why? I never really +knew." + +She laughed at his look of enlightened surprise. When Mrs. Banks +laughed there were three dimples plainly showing, which did not +entirely discourage her merriment. + +"And you know, Teddy, there is such a mystery about her marriage! She +will really be quite an acquisition, and we'll have her on the +programme." + +"What mystery?" Mr. Banks asked. + +"Oh, well, not mystery, maybe, but we all suppose she's not happy. How +could she be with so few of the real pleasures of life, and still she +stays with it, and actually goes places with her husband, and seems to +be keeping it up, and you know, Ted, she has either three or four +children!" + +"Is it as bad as that?" he asked, solemnly. + +"Oh, Ted! you know well enough what I mean--don't be such an owl! Just +think of how tied down and horrible it must be for her out there in +that desolate Alberta, with no neighbors at all for miles, and then +only impossible people. I should think it would drive her mad. I must +try to get her on the programme, too. She will at least be interesting, +on account of her personality. Most of our speakers are horribly prosy, +at least to me, but of course I never listen; I just look to see what +they've on and then go straight back to my own thinking. I just thought +I'd ask your advice, Teddy dear, before I asked the Committee, and so +now I'll go to see Mrs. Trenton, the President. So glad you approve, +dear! And really there will be a touch of romance in it, Ted, for Bruce +Edwards knew her when she lived in Ottawa--it was he who told me so +much about her. He simply raved about her to me--it seems he was quite +mad about her once, and probably it was a lover's quarrel or something +that drove her away to the West to forget,--and now think of her +meeting Bruce again. Isn't that a thriller?" + +"If I thought Bruce Edwards had brains enough to care for any woman I'd +say it was not right to bring her here," said Mr. Banks; "but he +hasn't." + +"Oh, of course," Mrs. Banks agreed, "he is quite over it now, no doubt. +Things like that never last, but he'll be awfully nice to her, and give +her a good time and take her around--you know what Bruce is like--he's +so romantic and cynical, and such a perfect darling in his manners-- +always ready to open a door or pick up a handkerchief!" + +"I am sure he would--if he needed the handkerchief," Theodore put in, +quietly. + +"Oh, Ted! you're a funny bunny! You've never liked Bruce--and I know +why--and it's perfectly horrid of you, just because he has always been +particularly nice to me--he really can't help being dreamy and devoted +to any woman he is with, if she is not a positive fright." + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Trenton, the President of the Arts and Crafts, received Mrs. +Banks' suggestion cautiously. Mrs. Trenton always asked, Is it right? +Is it wise? Is it expedient? It was Mrs. Trenton's extreme cautiousness +that had brought her the proud distinction of being the first President +of the Arts and Crafts, where it was considered necessary to temper the +impetuosity of the younger members; and, besides, Mrs. Trenton never +carried her doubts and fears too far. She raised all possible +objections, mentioned all possible contingencies, but in the end +allowed the younger members to carry the day, which they did, with a +clear and shriven conscience, feeling that they had been very discreet +and careful and deliberate. + +Mrs. Banks introduced her subject by telling Mrs. Trenton that she had +come to ask her advice, whereupon Mrs. Trenton laid aside the work she +was doing and signified her gracious willingness to be asked for +counsel. When Mrs. Banks had carefully laid the matter before Mrs. +Trenton, dwelling on the utter loneliness of the prairie woman's life, +Mrs. Trenton called the Vice-President, Miss Hastings, who was an oil +painter by profession, and a lady of large experience in matters of the +heart. Mrs. Trenton asked Mrs Banks to outline her plan again. + +When she had finished, Mrs. Trenton asked: "Is it wise--is it kind? She +has chosen her life. Why bring her back? It will only fill her heart +with vain repinings. This man, illiterate though he may be, is her +lawful husband--she owes him a duty. Are we just to him?" + +"Maybe she is perfectly happy," Miss Hastings said. "There is no +accounting for love and its vagaries. Perhaps to her he is clothed in +the rosy glow of romance, and all the inconveniences of her life are +forgotten. I have read of it," she added in explanation, when she +noticed Mrs. Trenton's look of incredulity. + +Mrs. Trenton sighed, a long sigh that undulated the black lace on her +capacious bosom. + +"It has been written--it will continue to be written, but to-day +marriage needs to be aided by modern--" she hesitated, and looked at +Mrs. Banks for the word. + +"Methods," Mrs. Banks supplied, promptly, "housemaids, cooks, autos, +theatres, jewelry and chocolates." + +"You put it so aptly, my dear," Mrs. Trenton smiled, as she patted her +pearl bracelet, Mr. Trenton's last offering on the hymeneal altar. "It +requires--" she paused again--Mrs. Trenton's pauses were a very +important asset in her conversation--"it requires--" + +"Collateral," said Mrs. Banks. + +Miss Hastings shook her head. + +"I believe in marriage--all the same," she said heroically. + +"Now, how shall we do it?" Mrs. Banks was anxious to get the +preliminaries over. "You have decided to invite her, of course." + +Mrs. Trenton nodded. + +"I feel we have no choice in the matter," she said slowly. "She is +certainly a woman of artistic temperament--she must be, or she would +succumb to the dreary prairie level. I have followed her career with +interest and predict great things for her--have I not, Miss Hastings? +We should not blame her if in a moment of girlish romance she turned +her back on the life which now is. We, as officers of the Arts and +Crafts, must extend our fellowship to all who are worthy. This joining +of our ranks may show her what she lost by her girlish folly, but it is +better for her to know life, and even feel regrets, than never to +know." + +"Better have a scarlet thread run through the dull gray pattern of +life, even if it makes the gray all the duller," said Miss Hastings, +who worked in oils. + +And so it came about that an invitation was sent to Mrs. James Dawson, +Auburn, Alberta, and in due time an acceptance was received. + +From the time she alighted from the Pacific Express, a slight young +woman in a very smart linen suit, she was a constant surprise to the +Arts and Crafts. The principal cause of their surprise was that she +seemed perfectly happy. There was not a shadow of regret in her clear +grey eyes, nor any trace of drooping melancholy in her quick, business- +like walk. + +Naturally the Arts and Crafts had made quite a feature of the Alberta +author and poet who would attend the Convention. Several of the +enthusiastic members, anxious to advertise effectively, had interviewed +the newspaper reporters on the subject, with the result that long +articles were published in the Woman's Section of the city dailies, +dealing principally with the loneliness of the life on an Alberta +ranch. Kate Dawson was credited with an heroic spirit that would have +made her blush had she seen the flattering allusions. Robinson Crusoe +on his lonely isle, before the advent of Friday, was not more isolated +than she on her lonely Alberta ranch, according to the advance notices. +Luckily she had not seen any of these, nor ever dreamed she was the +centre of so much attention, and so it was a very self-possessed and +unconscious young woman in a simple white gown who came before the Arts +and Crafts. + +It was the first open night of the Convention, and the auditorium was +crowded. The air was heavy with the perfume of many flowers, and pulsed +with dreamy music. Mrs. Trenton, in billows of black lace and glinting +jet, presided with her usual graciousness. She introduced Mrs. Dawson +briefly. + +Whatever the attitude of the audience was at first, they soon followed +her with eager interest as she told them, in her easy way, simple +stories of the people she knew so well and so lovingly understood. +There was no art in the telling, only a sweet naturalness and an +apparent honesty--the honesty of purpose that comes to people in lonely +places. Her stories were all of the class that magazine editors call +"homely, heart-interest stuff," not deep or clever or problematical-- +the commonplace doings of common people--but it found an entrance into +the hearts of men and women. + +They found themselves looking with her at broad sunlit spaces, where +struggling hearts work out noble destinies, without any thought of +heroism. They saw the moonlight and its drifting shadows on the wheat, +and smelled again the ripening grain at dawn. They heard the whirr of +prairie chickens' wings among the golden stubble on the hillside, and +the glamor of some old forgotten afternoon stole over them. Men and +women country-born who had forgotten the voices of their youth, heard +them calling across the years, and heard them, too, with opened hearts +and sudden tears. There was one pathetic story she told them, of the +lonely prairie woman--the woman who wished she was back, the woman to +whom the broad outlook and far horizon were terrible and full of fear. +She told them how, at night, this lonely woman drew down the blinds and +pinned them close to keep out the great white outside that stared at +her through every chink with wide, pitiless eyes--the mocking voices +that she heard behind her everywhere, day and night, whispering, +mocking, plotting; and the awful shadows, black and terrible, that +crouched behind her, just out of sight--never coming out in the open. + +It was a weird and gloomy picture, that, but she did not leave it so. +She told of the new neighbor who came to live near the lonely woman-- +the human companionship which drove the mocking voices away forever-- +the coming of the spring, when the world awoke from its white sleep and +the thousand joyous living things that came into being at the touch of +the good old sun! + +At the reception after the programme, many crowded around her, +expressing their sincere appreciation of her work. Bruce Edwards fully +enjoyed the distinction which his former acquaintance with her gave +him, and it was with quite an air of proprietorship that he introduced +to her his friends. + +Mrs. Trenton, Mrs. Banks and other members of the Arts and Crafts, at a +distance discussed her with pride. She had made their open night a +wonderful success--the papers would be full of it to-morrow. + +"You can see how fitted she is for a life of culture," said Miss +Hastings, the oil painter; "her shapely white hands were made for +silver spoons, and not for handling butter ladles. What a perfect joy +it must be for her to associate with people who are her equals!" + +"I wonder," said Mrs. Banks, "what her rancher would say if he saw his +handsome wife now. So much admiration from an old lover is not good for +the peace of mind of even a serious-minded author--and such a +fascinating man as Bruce! Look how well they look together! I wonder if +she is mentally comparing her big, sunburned cattleman with Bruce, and +thinking of what a different life she would have led if she had married +him!" + +"Do you suppose," said Mrs. Trenton, "that that was her own story that +she told us? I think she must have felt it herself to be able to tell +it so." + +Just at that moment Bruce Edwards was asking her the same question. + +"Oh, no," she answered, quickly, while an interested group drew near; +"people never write their own sorrows--the broken heart does not sing-- +that's the sadness of it. If one can talk of their sorrows they soon +cease to be. It's because I have not had any sorrows of my own that I +have seen and been able to tell of the tragedies of life." + +"Isn't she the jolly best bluffer you ever heard?" one of the men +remarked to another. "Just think of that beautiful creature, born for +admiration, living ten miles from anywhere, on an Albertan ranch of all +places, and saying she is happy. She could be a top-notcher in any +society in Canada--why, great Scott! any of us would have married that +girl, and been glad to do it!" And under the glow of this generous +declaration Mr. Stanley Carruthers lit his cigarette and watched her +with unconcealed admiration. + +As the Arts and Crafts had predicted, the newspapers gave considerable +space to their open meeting, and the Alberta author came in for a large +share of the reporters' finest spasms. It was the chance of a lifetime +--here was local color--human interest--romance--thrills! Good old +phrases, clover-scented and rosy-hued, that had lain in cold storage +for years, were brought out and used with conscious pride. + +There was one paper which boldly hinted at what it called her +"_mesalliance_," and drew a lurid picture of her domestic unhappiness, +"so bravely borne." All the gossip of the Convention was in it +intensified and exaggerated--conjectures set down as known truths--the +idle chatter of idle women crystallized in print! + +And of this paper a copy was sent by some unknown person to James +Dawson, Auburn, Alberta. + + * * * * * + +The rain was falling at Auburn, Alberta, with the dreary insistence of +unwelcome harvest rain. Just a quiet drizzle--plenty more where this +came from--no haste, no waste. It soaked the fields, keeping green the +grain which should be ripening in a clear sun. Kate Dawson had been +gone a week, and it would still be a week before she came back. Just a +week--seven days. Jim Dawson went over them in his mind as he drove the +ten miles over the rain-soaked roads to Auburn to get his daily letter. + +Every day she had written to him long letters, full of vital interest +to him. He read them over and over again. + +"Nobody really knows how well Kate can write, who has not seen her +letters to me," he thought proudly. Absence had not made him fonder of +his wife, for every day he lived was lived in devotion to her. The +marvel of it all never left him, that such a woman as Kate Marks, who +had spent her life in the city, surrounded by cultured friends, should +be contented to live the lonely life of a rancher's wife. + +He got his first disappointment when there was no letter for him. He +told himself it was some unavoidable delay in the mails--Kate had +written all right--there would be two letters for him to-morrow. Then +he noticed the paper addressed to him in a strange hand. + +He opened it eagerly. A wavy ink-line caught his eye. "Western author +delights large audience." Jim Dawson's face glowed with pride. "My +girl!" he murmured, happily. "I knew it." He wanted to be alone when he +read it, and, folding it hastily, put it in his pocket and did not look +at it again until he was on the way home. The rain still fell drearily +and spattered the page as he read. + +His heart beat fast with pride as he read the flattering words--his +girl had made good, you bet! + +Suddenly he started, almost crushing the paper in his hands, and every +bit of color went from his face. "What's this? 'Unhappily married '-- +'borne with heroic cheerfulness.'" He read it through to the end. + +He stopped his horses and looked around--he did not know, himself, what +thought was in his mind. Jim Dawson had always been able to settle his +disputes without difficulty or delay. There was something to be done +now. The muscles swelled in his arms. Surely something could be +done!... + +Then the wanton cruelty, the utter brutality of the printed page came +home to him--there was no way, no answer. + +Strange to say, he felt no resentment for himself; even the paragraph +about the old lover, with its hidden and sinister meaning, angered him +only in its relation to her. Why shouldn't the man admire her if he was +an old lover?--Kate must have had dozens of men in love with her--why +shouldn't any man admire her? + +So he talked and reasoned with himself, trying to keep the cruel hurt +of the words out of his heart. + +Everyone in his household was asleep when he reached home. He stabled +his team with the help of his lantern, and then, going into the +comfortable kitchen, he found the lunch the housekeeper had left for +him. He thought of the many merry meals he and Kate had had on this +same kitchen table, but now it seemed a poor, cold thing to sit down +and eat alone and in silence. + +With his customary thoughtfulness he cleared away the lunch before +going to his room. Then, lamp in hand, he went, as he and Kate had +always done, to the children's room, and looked long and lovingly at +his boy and girl asleep in their cots--the boy so like himself, with +his broad forehead and brown curls. He bent over him and kissed him +tenderly--Kate's boy. + +Then he turned to the little girl, so like her mother, with her tangle +of red curls on the pillow. Picking her up in his arms, he carried her +to his room and put her in his own bed. + +"Mother isn't putting up a bluff on us, is she, dearie?" he whispered +as he kissed the soft little cheek beside his own. "Mother loves us, +surely--it is pretty rough on us if she doesn't--and it's rougher +still on mother!" + +The child stirred in her sleep, and her arms tightened around his neck. + +"I love my mother--and my dear daddy," she murmured drowsily. + +All night long Jim Dawson lay wide-eyed, staring into the darkness with +his little sleeping girl in his arms, not doubting his wife for a +moment, but wondering--all night long--wondering! + +The next evening Jim did not go for his mail, but one of the neighbors +driving by volunteered to get it for him. + +It was nearly midnight when the sound of wheels roused him from his +reverie. He opened the door, and in the square of light the horses +stopped. + +"Hello, Jim--is that you?" called the neighbor; "I've got something for +you." + +Jim came out bareheaded. He tried to thank the neighbor for his +kindness, but his throat was dry with suppressed excitement--Kate had +written! + +The buggy was still in the shadow, and he could not see its occupant. + +"I have a letter for you, Jim," said his friend, with a suspicious +twinkle in his voice, "a big one, registered and special delivery--a +right nice letter, I should say." + +Then her voice rang out in the darkness. + +"Come, Jim, and help me out." + +Commonplace words, too, but to Jim Dawson they were sweeter than the +chiming of silver bells..... + +An hour later they still sat over their late supper on the kitchen +table. She had told him many things. + +"I just got lonely, Jim--plain, straight homesick for you and the +children. I couldn't stay out the week. The people were kind to me, and +said nice things about my work. I was glad to hear and see things, of +course. Bruce Edwards was there, you know--I've told you about Bruce. +He took me around quite a bit, and was nice enough, only I couldn't +lose him--you know that kind, Jim, always saying tiresome, plastery +sort of things. He thinks that women like to be fussed over all the +time. The women I met dress beautifully and all talk the same--and at +once. Everything is 'perfectly sweet' and 'darling' to them. They are +clever women all right, and were kind to me, and all that, but oh, Jim, +they are not for mine--and the men I met while I was away all looked +small and poor and trifling to me because I have been looking for the +last ten years at one who is big and brown and useful. I compared them +all with you, and they measured up badly. Jim, do you know what it +would feel like to live on popcorn and chocolates for two weeks and try +to make a meal of them--what do you think you would be hungry for?" + +Jim Dawson watched his wife, his eyes aglow with love and pride. Not +until she repeated her question did he answer her. + +"I think, perhaps, a slice of brown bread would be what was wanted," he +answered smiling. The glamor of her presence was upon him. + +Then she came over to him and drew his face close to hers. + +"Please pass the brown bread!" she said. + + + + +A SHORT TALE OF A RABBIT + +(Reprinted by permission of _Canada West Monthly_.) + +Johnny was the only John rabbit in the family that lived in the poplar +bluff in the pasture. He had a bold and adventurous spirit, but was +sadly hampered by his mother's watchfulness. She was as full of +warnings as the sign-board at the railway crossing. It was "Look out +for the cars!" all the time with mother. She warned him of dogs and +foxes, hawks and snakes, boys and men. It was in vain that Johnny +showed her his paces--how he could leap and jump and run. She admitted +that he was quite a smart little rabbit for his age, but--oh, well! you +know what mothers are like. + +Johnny was really tired of it, and then, too, Johnny had found out that +what mother had said about dogs was very much exaggerated. Johnny had +met two dogs, so he thought he knew something about them. One was a +sleek, fat, black puppy, with a vapid smile, called Juno; and the other +was an amber-eyed spaniel with woolly, fat legs. They had run after +Johnny one day when he was out playing on the road, and he had led them +across a ploughed field. Johnny was accustomed to add, as he told the +story to the young rabbits that lived down in the pasture, that he had +to spurt around the field a few times after the race was over just to +limber up his legs--he was so cramped from sitting around waiting for +the dogs. So it came about that Johnny, in his poor, foolish little +heart, thought dogs were just a joke. + +Johnny's mother told him that all men were bad, and the men who carried +guns were worst of all, for guns spit out fire and death. She said +there were men who wore coats the color of dead grass, and drove in +rigs that rattled and had dogs with them, and they killed ducks and +geese that were away up in the air. She said those men drove miles and +miles just to kill things, and they lived sometimes in a little house +away out near the lakes where the ducks stayed, and they didn't mind +getting up early in the morning or sitting up at night to get a shot at +a duck, and when they got the ducks they just gave them away. If half +what old Mrs. Rabbit said about them was true, they certainly were the +Bad Men from Bitter Creek! Johnny listened, big-eyed, to all this, and +there were times when he was almost afraid to go to bed. Still, when he +found out that dogs were not so dangerous, he began to think his mother +might have overstated the man question, too. + +One day Johnny got away from his mother, when she was busy training the +other little rabbits in the old trick of dodging under the wire fence +just when the dog is going to grab you. Johnny knew how it was done--it +was as easy as rolling off a log for him, and so he ran away. He came +up at the Agricultural Grounds. He had often been close to the fence +before, but his mother had said decidedly he must never go in. + +Just beside the gate he found a bread crust which was lovely, and there +might be more, mightn't there? There wasn't a person in sight, or a +dog. Johnny went a little farther in and found a pile of cabbage +leaves--a pile of them, mind you--he really didn't know what to think +of his mother--she certainly was the limit! Johnny grew bolder; a +little farther on he found more bread crumbs and some stray lettuce +leaves--he began to feel a little sorry for his mother--lettuce +leaves, cabbage leaves and bread crumbs--and she had said, "Don't go +in there, Johnny, whatever you do!" + +The band was playing, and there were flags in the air, but Johnny +didn't notice it. He didn't know, of course, that the final lacrosse +match of the season was going to be played that afternoon. Johnny had +just gone into one of the cattle sheds to see what was there, when a +little boy, with flopped-out ears and a Cow Brand Soda cap on, +stealthily closed the gate. Johnny didn't know he had on a Cow Brand +Soda cap, and he didn't know that the gate was shut, but he did know +that that kind of a yell meant business. He wasn't afraid. Pshaw! He'd +give young Mr. Flop-Ears a run for his money. Come on, kid--r-r-r-r-r! +Johnny ran straight to the gate with a rabbit's unerring instinct, and +hurled himself against it in vain. The flop-eared boy screamed with +laughter. Then there were more Boys. And Dogs. All screaming. The +primitive savage in them was awake now. Here was a wild thing who +defied them, with all his speed. Johnny was running now with his ears +laid back, mad with terror, dogs barking, boys screaming, even men +joining in the chase, for the lust for blood was on them. Again Johnny +made the circuit of the field--the noise grew--a hundred voices, it +seemed, not one that was friendly. It was one little throbbing rabbit +against the field, with all the odds against him, running for his life, +and losing! "Sic him, Togo! Sic him, Collie! Gee! Can't he run? But +we've got him this time. He'll soon slow up." A dog snapped at him and +his hind leg grew heavy. Some one struck at him with a lacrosse stick, +and then-- + +He found himself running alone. Behind him a dog yelped with pain, and +above the noise someone shouted: "Here, you kids, let up on that! Shame +on you! Let him alone! Call off your dogs, there! Poor little duffer, +let him go. Get back there, Twin!" + +Johnny ran dazed and dizzy, and once more made the circuit and dashed +again for the gate. But this time the gate was open, and Johnny was +free! Saved, and by whom? + +Well, of course, old Mrs. Rabbit didn't believe a word of it when +Johnny went home and told her who called off the dogs and opened the +gate for him. She said,--well, she talked very plainly to Johnny, but +he stuck to it, that he owed his life to one of the Bad Men who wear +clothes the color of grass, and whose gun spits fire and death. For old +Mrs. Rabbit made just the same mistake that many people make of +thinking that a man that hunts must be cruel, forgetting that the true +sportsman loves the wild things he makes war on, and though he kills +them, he does it fairly and openly. + + + + +THE ELUSIVE VOTE + +AN UNVARNISHED TALE OF SEPTEMBER 21st, 1911 + +John Thomas Green did not look like a man on whom great issues might +turn. His was a gentle soul encased in ill-fitting armour. Heavy blue +eyes, teary and sad, gave a wintry droop to his countenance; his nose +showed evidence of much wiping, and the need of more. When he spoke, +which was infrequent, he stammered; when he walked he toed in. + +He was a great and glorious argument in favor of woman suffrage; he was +the last word, the _piece de resistance_; he was a living, walking, +yellow banner, which shouted "Votes for Women," for in spite of his +many limitations there was one day when he towered high above the +mightiest woman in the land; one day that the plain John Thomas was +clothed with majesty and power; one day when he emerged from obscurity +and placed an impress on the annals of our country. Once every four +years John Thomas Green came forth (at the earnest solicitation of +friends) and stood before kings. + +The Reciprocity fight was on, and nowhere did it rage more hotly than +in Morton, where Tom Brown, the well-beloved and much-hated +Conservative member, fought for his seat with all the intensity of his +Irish blood. Politics were an incident to Tom--the real thing was the +fight! and so fearlessly did he go after his assailants--and they were +many--that every day greater enthusiasm prevailed among his followers, +who felt it a privilege to fight for a man who fought so well for +himself. + +The night before the election the Committee sat in the Committee Rooms +and went carefully over the lists. They were hopeful but not hilarious +--there had been disappointments, desertions, lapses! + +Billy Weaver, loyal to the cause, but of pessimistic nature, testified +that Sam Cowery had been "talkin' pretty shrewd about reciprocity," by +which Billy did not mean "shrewd" at all, but rather crooked and +adverse. However, there was no mistaking Billy's meaning of the word +when one heard him say it with his inimitable "down-the-Ottaway" +accent. It is only the feeble written word which requires explanation. + +George Burns was reported to have said he did not care whether he voted +or not; if it were a wet day he might, but if it were weather for +stacking he'd stack, you bet! This was a gross insult to the President +of the Conservative Association, whose farm he had rented and lived on +for the last five years, during which time there had been two +elections, at both of which he had voted "right." The President had not +thought it necessary to interview him at all this time, feeling sure +that he was within the pale. But now it seemed that some trifler had +told him that he would get more for his barley and not have to pay so +much for his tobacco if Reciprocity carried, and it was reported that +he had been heard to say, with picturesque eloquence, that you could +hardly expect a man to cut his throat both ways by voting against it! + +These and other kindred reports filled the Committee with apprehension. + +The most unmoved member of the company was the redoubtable Tom himself, +who, stretched upon the slippery black leather lounge, hoarse as a frog +from much addressing of obdurate electors, was endeavoring to sing +"Just Before the Battle, Mother," hitting the tune only in the most +inconspicuous places! + +The Secretary, with the list in his hand, went over the names: + +"Jim Stewart--Jim's solid; he doesn't want Reciprocity, because he sent +to the States once for a washing-machine for his wife, and smuggled it +through from St. Vincent, and when he got it here his wife wouldn't use +it! + +"Abe Collins--Abe's not right and never will be--he saw Sir Wilfrid +once-- + +"John Thomas Green--say, how about Jack? Surely we can corral Jack. +He's working for you, Milt, isn't he?" addressing one of the +scrutineers. + +"Leave him to me," said Milt, with an air of mystery; "there's no one +has more influence with Jack than me. No, he isn't with me just now, +he's over with my brother Angus; but when he comes in to vote I'll be +there, and all I'll have to do is to lift my eyes like this" (he showed +them the way it would be done) "and he'll vote--right." + +"How do you know he will come, though?" asked the Secretary, who had +learned by much experience that many and devious are the bypaths which +lead away from the polls! + +"Yer brother Angus will be sure to bring him in, won't he, Milt?" asked +John Gray, the trusting one, who believed all men to be brothers. + +There was a tense silence. + +Milt took his pipe from his mouth. "My brother Angus," he began, +dramatically, girding himself for the effort--for Milt was an orator of +Twelfth of July fame--"Angus Kennedy, my brother, bred and reared, and +reared and bred, in the principles of Conservatism, as my poor old +father often says, has gone over--has deserted our banners, has steeped +himself in the false teachings of the Grits. Angus, my brother," he +concluded, impressively, "is--not right!" + +"What's wrong with him?" asked Jim Grover, who was of an analytical +turn of mind. + +"Too late to discuss that now!" broke in the Secretary; "we cannot +trace Angus's downfall, but we can send out and get in John Thomas. We +need his vote--it's just as good as anybody's." + +Jimmy Rice volunteered to go out and get him. Jimmy did not believe in +leaving anything to chance. He had been running an auto all week and +would just as soon work at night as any other time. Big Jack Moore, +another enthusiastic Conservative, agreed to go with him. + +When they made the ten-mile run to the home of the apostate Angus, they +met him coming down the path with a lantern in his hand on the way to +feed his horses. + +They, being plain, blunt men, unaccustomed to the amenities of election +time, and not knowing how to skilfully approach a subject of this kind, +simply announced that they had come for John Thomas. + +"He's not here," said Angus, looking around the circle of light that +the lantern threw. + +"Are you sure?" asked James Rice, after a painful pause. + +"Yes," said Angus, with exaggerated ease, affecting not to notice the +significance of the question. "Jack went to Nelson to-day, and he ain't +back yet. He went about three o'clock," went on Angus, endeavoring to +patch up a shaky story with a little interesting detail. "He took over +a bunch of pigs for me that I am shippin' into Winnipeg, and he was +goin' to bring back some lumber." + +"I was in Nelson to-day, Angus," said John Moore, sternly; "just came +from there, and I did not see John Thomas." + +Angus, though fallen and misguided, was not entirely unregenerate; a +lie sat awkwardly on his honest lips, and now that his feeble effort at +deception had miscarried, he felt himself adrift on a boundless sea. He +wildly felt around for a reply, and was greatly relieved by the arrival +of his father on the scene, who, seeing the lights of the auto in the +yard, had come out hurriedly to see what was the matter. Grandpa +Kennedy, although nearing his ninetieth birthday, was still a man of +affairs, and what was still more important on this occasion, a lifelong +Conservative. Grandpa knew it was the night before the election; he +also had seen what he had seen. Grandpa might be getting on, but he +could see as far through a cellar door as the next one. Angus, glad of +a chance to escape, went on to the stable, leaving the visiting +gentlemen to be entertained by Grandpa. + +Grandpa was a diplomat; he wanted to have no hard feelings with anyone. + +"Good-night, boys," he cried, in his shrill voice; he recognized the +occupants of the auto and his quick brain took in the situation. "Don't +it beat all how the frost keeps off? This reminds me of the fall, +'leven years ago--we had no frost till the end of the month. I ripened +three bushels of Golden Queen tomatoes!" All this was delivered in a +very high voice for Angus's benefit--to show him, if he were listening, +how perfectly innocent the conversation was. + +Then as Angus's lantern disappeared behind the stable, the old man's +voice was lowered, and he gave forth this cryptic utterance: + +"_John Thomas is in the cellar_." + +Then he gaily resumed his chatter, although Angus was safe in the +stable; but Grandpa knew what he knew, and Angus's woman might be +listening at the back door. "Much election talk in town, boys?" he +asked, breezily. They answered him at random. Then his voice fell +again. "Angle's dead against Brown--won't let you have John Thomas--put +him down cellar soon as he saw yer lights; Angie's woman is sittin on +the door knittin'--she's wors'n him--don't let on I give it away--I +don't want no words with her!--Yes, it's grand weather for threshin'; +won't you come on away in? I guess yer horse will stand." The old man +roared with laughter at his own joke. + +John Moore and James Rice went back to headquarters for further advice. +Angus's woman sitting on the cellar door knitting was a contingency +that required to be met with guile. + +Consternation sat on the face of the Committee when they told their +story. They had not counted on this. The wildest plans were discussed. +Tom Stubbins began a lengthy story of an elopement that happened down +at the "Carp," where the bride made a rope of the sheets and came down +from an upstairs window. Tom was not allowed to finish his narrative, +though, for it was felt that the cases were not similar. + +No one seemed to be particularly anxious to go back and interrupt Mrs. +Angus's knitting. + +Then there came into the assembly one of the latest additions to the +Conservative ranks, William Batters, a converted and reformed Liberal. +He had been an active member of the Liberal party for many years, but +at the last election he had been entirely convinced of their +unworthiness by the close-fisted and niggardly way in which they +dispensed the election money. + +He heard the situation discussed in all its aspects. Milton Kennedy, +with inflamed oratory, bitterly bewailed his brother's defection--"not +only wrong himself, but leadin' others, and them innocent lambs!"--but +he did not offer to go out and see his brother. The lady who sat +knitting on the cellar door seemed to be the difficulty with all of +them. + +The reformed Liberal had a plan. + +"I will go for him," said he. "Angus will trust me--he doesn't know I +have turned. I'll go for John Thomas, and Angus will give him to me +without a word, thinkin' I'm a friend," he concluded, brazenly. + +"Look at that now!" exclaimed the member elect. "Say, boys, you'd know +he had been a Grit--no honest, open-faced Conservative would ever think +of a trick like that!" + +"There is nothing like experience to make a man able to see every +side," said the reformed one, with becoming modesty. + +An hour later Angus was roused from his bed by a loud knock on the +door. Angus had gone to bed with his clothes on, knowing that these +were troublesome times. + +"What's the row?" he asked, when he had cautiously opened the door. + +"Row!" exclaimed the friend who was no longer a friend, "You're the man +that's makin' the row. The Conservatives have 'phoned in to the +Attorney-General's Department to-night to see what's to be done with +you for standin' between a man and his heaven-born birthright, keepin' +and confinin' of a man in a cellar, owned by and closed by you!" + +This had something the air of a summons, and Angus was duly impressed. + +"I don't want to see you get into trouble. Angus," Mr. Batters went on; +"and the only way to keep out of it is to give him to me, and then when +they come out here with a search-warrant they won't find nothin'." + +Angus thanked him warmly, and, going upstairs, roused the innocent John +from his virtuous slumbers. He had some trouble persuading John, who +was a profound sleeper, that he must arise and go hence; but many +things were strange to him, and he rose and dressed without very much +protest. + +Angus was distinctly relieved when he got John Thomas off his hands--he +felt he had had a merciful deliverance. + +On the way to town, roused by the night air, John Thomas became +communicative. + +"Them lads in the automobile, they wanted me pretty bad, you bet," he +chuckled, with the conscious pride of the much-sought-after; "but gosh, +Angus fixed them. He just slammed down the cellar door on me, and says +he, 'Not a word out of you, Jack; you've as good a right to vote the +way you want to as anybody, and you'll get it, too, you bet.'" + +The reformed Liberal knitted his brows. What was this simple child of +nature driving at? + +John Thomas rambled on: "Tom Brown can't fool people with brains, you +bet you--Angus's woman explained it all to me. She says to me, 'Don't +let nobody run you, Jack--and vote for Hastings. You're all right, +Jack--and remember Hastings is the man. Never mind why--don't bother +your head--you don't have to--but vote for Hastings.' Says she, 'Don't +let on to Milt, or any of his folks, or Grandpa, but vote the way you +want to, and that's for Hastings!'" + +When they arrived in town the reformed Liberal took John Thomas at once +to the Conservative Hotel, and put him in a room, and told him to go to +bed, which John cheerfully did. Then he went for the Secretary, who was +also in bed. "I've got John Thomas," he announced, "but he says he's a +Grit and is going to vote for Hastings. I can't put a dint in him--he +thinks I'm a Grit, too. He's only got one idea, but it's a solid one, +and that is 'Vote for Hastings.'" + +The Secretary yawned sleepily. "I'll not go near him. It's me for +sleep. You can go and see if any of the other fellows want a job. +They're all down at a ball at the station. Get one of those wakeful +spirits to reason with John." + +The conspirator made his way stealthily to the station, from whence +there issued the sound of music and dancing. Not wishing to alarm the +Grits, many of whom were joining in the festivities, and who would have +been quick to suspect that something was on foot, if they saw him +prowling around, he crept up to the window and waited until one of the +faithful came near. Gently tapping on the glass, he got the attention +of the editor, the very man he wanted, and, in pantomime, gave him to +understand that his presence was requested. The editor, pleading a +terrific headache, said good-night, or rather good-morning, to his +hostess, and withdrew. From his fellow-worker who waited in the shadow +of the trees outside, he learned that John Thomas had been secured in +the body but not in spirit. + +The newspaper man readily agreed to labor with the erring brother and +hoped to be able to deliver his soul alive. + +Once again was John Thomas roused from his slumbers, and not by a +familiar voice this time, but by an unknown vision in evening dress. + +The editor was a convincing man in his way, whether upon the subject of +reciprocity or apostolic succession, but John was plainly bored from +the beginning, and though he offered no resistance, his repeated "I +know that!" "That's what I said!" were more disconcerting than the most +vigorous opposition. At daylight the editor left John, and he really +had the headache that he had feigned a few hours before. + +Then John Thomas tried to get a few winks of unmolested repose, but it +was election day, and the house was early astir. Loud voices sounded +through the hall. Innumerable people, it seemed, mistook his room for +their own. Jack rose at last, thoroughly indignant and disposed to +quarrel. He had a blame good notion to vote for Brown after all, after +the way he had been treated. + +When he had hastily dressed himself, discussing his grievances in a +loud voice, he endeavored to leave the room, but found the door +securely locked. Then his anger knew no bounds. He lustily kicked on +the lower panel of the door and fairly shrieked his indignation and +rage. + +The chambermaid, passing, remonstrated with him by beating on the other +side of the door. She was a pert young woman with a squeaky voice, and +she thought she knew what was wrong with the occupant of 17. She had +heard kicks on doors before. + +"Quiet down, you, mister, or you'll get yourself put in the cooler-- +that's the best place for noisy drunks." + +This, of course, annoyed the innocent man beyond measure, but she was +gone far down the hall before he could think of the retort suitable. + +When she finished her upstairs work and came downstairs to peel the +potatoes, she mentioned casually to the bartender that whoever he had +in number 17 was "smashin' things up pretty lively!" + +The bartender went up and liberated the indignant voter, who by this +time had his mind made up to vote against both Brown and Hastings, and +furthermore to renounce politics in all its aspects for evermore. + +However, a good breakfast and the sincere apologies of the hotel people +did much to restore his good humor. But a certain haziness grew in his +mind as to who was who, and at times the disquieting thought skidded +through his murky brain that he might be in the enemy's camp for all he +knew. Angus and Mrs. Angus had said, "Do what you think is right and +vote for Hastings," and that was plain and simple and easily +understood. But now things seemed to be all mixed up. + +The committee were ill at ease about him. The way he wagged his head +and declared he knew what was what, you bet, was very disquieting, and +the horrible fear haunted them that they were perchance cherishing a +serpent in their bosom. + +The Secretary had a proposal: "Take him out to Milt Kennedy's. Milt +said he could work him. Take him out there! Milt said all he had to do +was to raise his eyes and John Thomas would vote right." + +The erstwhile Liberal again went on the road with John Thomas, to +deliver him over to the authority of Milt Kennedy. If Milt could get +results by simply elevating his eyebrows, Milt was the man who was +needed. + +Arriving at Milt's, he left the voter sitting in the buggy, while he +went in search of the one who could control John's erring judgment. + +While sitting there alone, another wandering thought zig-zagged through +John's brain. They were making a fool of him, some way! Well, he'd let +them see, b'gosh! + +He jumped out of the buggy, and hastily climbed into the hay-mow. It +was a safe and quiet spot, and was possessed of several convenient +eye-holes through which he could watch with interest the search which +immediately began. + +He saw the two men coming up to the barn, and as they passed almost +below him, he heard Milt say, "Oh, sure, John Thomas will vote right--I +can run him all right!--he'll do as I say. Hello, John! Where is he?" + +They went into the house--they searched the barn--they called, coaxed, +entreated. They ran down to the road to see if he had started back to +town; he was as much gone as if he had never been! + +"Are you dead sure you brought him?" Milt asked at last in desperation, +as he turned over a pile of sacks in the granary. + +"Gosh! ain't they lookin' some!" chuckled the elusive voter, as he +watched with delight their unsuccessful endeavors to locate him. "But +there's lots of places yet that they hain't thought of; they hain't +half looked for me yet. I may be in the well for all they know." Then +he began to sing to himself, "I know something I won't tell!" + +It was not every day that John Thomas Green found himself the centre of +attraction, and he enjoyed the sensation. + +Having lost so much sleep the night before, a great drowsiness fell on +John Thomas, and curling himself up in the hay, he sank into a sweet, +sound sleep. + +While he lay there, safe from alarms, the neighborhood was shaken with +a profound sensation. John Thomas was lost. Lost, and his vote lost +with him! + +Milton Kennedy, who had to act as scrutineer at the poll in town, was +forced to leave home with the mystery unsolved. Before going, he +'phoned to Billy Adams, one of the faithful, and in guarded speech, +knowing that he was surrounded by a cloud of witnesses, broke the news! +Billy Adams immediately left his stacking, and set off to find his lost +compatriot. + +Mrs. Alex Porter lived on the next farm to Billy Adams, and being a +lady of some leisure, she usually managed to get in on most of the +'phone conversations. Billy Adams' calls were very seldom overlooked by +her, for she was on the other side of politics, and it was always well +to know what was going on. Although she did not know all that was said +by the two men, she heard enough to assure her that crooked work was +going on. Mrs. Alex Porter declared she was not surprised. She threw +her apron over her head and went to the field and told Alex. Alex was +not surprised. In fact, it seems Alex had expected it! + +They 'phoned in cipher to Angus, Mrs. Angus being a sister of Mrs. Alex +Porter. Mrs. Angus told them to speak out plain, and say what they +wanted to, even if all the Conservatives on the line were listening. +Then Mrs. Porter said that John Thomas was lost over at Milt Kennedy's. +They had probably drugged him or something. + +Then Angus's wife said he was safe enough. Billy Batters had come and +got him the night before. At the mention of Billy Batters there was a +sound of suppressed mirth all along the line. Mrs. Angus's sister +fairly shrieked. "Billy Batters! Don't you know he has turned +Conservative!--he's working tooth and nail for Brown." Mrs. Angus +called Angus excitedly. Everybody talked at once; somebody laughed; one +or two swore. Mrs. Porter told Milt Kennedy's wife she'd caught her +eavesdropping this time sure. She'd know her cackle any place, and +Milt's wife told Mrs. Porter to shut up--she needn't talk about +eavesdroppers,--good land! and Mrs. Porter told Mrs. Milt she should +try something for that voice of hers, and recommended machine oil, and +Central rang in and told them they'd all have their 'phones taken out +if they didn't stop quarreling; and John Thomas, in the hay-mow, slept +on, as peacefully as an innocent babe! + +In the committee rooms, Jack's disappearance was excitedly discussed. +The Conservatives were not sure that Bill Batters was not giving them +the double cross--once a Grit, always a Grit! Angus was threatening to +have him arrested for abduction--he had beguiled John Thomas from the +home of his friends, and then carelessly lost him. + +William Batters realized that he had lost favor in both places, and +anxiously longed for a sight of John Thomas's red face, vote or no +vote. + +At four o'clock John Thomas awoke much refreshed, but very hungry. He +went into the house in search of something to eat. Milton and his wife +had gone into town many hours before, but he found what he wanted, and +was going back to the hay-mow to finish his sleep, just as Billy Adams +was going home after having cast his vote. + +Billy Adams seized him eagerly, and rapidly drove back to town. Jack's +vote would yet be saved to the party! + +It was with pardonable pride that Billy Adams reined in his foaming +team, and rushed John Thomas into the polling booth, where he was +greeted with loud cheers. Nobody dare ask him where he had been--time +was too precious. Milton Kennedy, scrutineer, lifted his eyebrows as +per agreement. Jack replied with a petulant shrug of his good shoulder +and passed in to the inner chamber. + +The Conservatives were sure they had him. The Liberals were sure, too. +Mrs. Angus was sure Jack would vote right after the way she had +reasoned with him and showed him! + +When the ballots were counted, there were several spoiled ones, of +course. But there was one that was rather unique. After the name of +Thomas Brown, there was written in lead pencil, "_None of yer +business_!" which might have indicated a preference for the other name +of John Hastings, only for the fact that opposite his name was the curt +remark, "_None of yer business, either_!" + +Some thought the ballot was John Thomas Green's. + + + + +THE WAY OF THE WEST + +(Reprinted by permission of _The Globe_, Toronto.) + +Thomas Shouldice was displeased, sorely, bitterly displeased: in fact, +he was downright mad, and being an Irish Orangeman, this means that he +was ready to fight. You can imagine just how bitterly Mr. Shouldice was +incensed when you hear that the Fourth of July had been celebrated with +flourish of flags and blare of trumpets right under his very nose--in +Canada--in British dominions! + +The First of July, the day that should have been given up to "doin's," +including the race for the greased pig, the three-legged race, and a +ploughing match, had passed into obscurity, without so much as a +pie-social; and it had rained that day, too, in torrents, just as if +Nature herself did not care enough about the First to try to keep it dry. + +The Fourth came in a glorious day, all sunshine and blue sky, with +birds singing in every poplar bluff, and it was given such a +celebration as Thomas had never seen since the "Twelfth" had been held +in Souris. The American settlers who had been pouring into the Souris +valley had--without so much as asking leave from the Government at +Ottawa, the school trustees, or the oldest settler, who was Thomas +himself--gone ahead and celebrated. Every American family had brought +their own flagpole, in "joints," with them, and on the Fourth immense +banners of stars and stripes spread their folds in triumph on the +breeze. + +The celebration was held in a large grove just across the road from +Thomas Shouldice's little house; and to his inflamed patriotism, every +firecracker that split the air, every cheer that rent the heavens, +every blare of their smashing band music, seemed a direct challenge to +King Edward himself, God bless him! + +Mr. Shouldice worked all day at his hay-meadow, just to show them! He +worked hard, too, never deigning a glance at their "carryin's on," just +to let them know that he did not care two cents for their Fourth of +July. + +His first thought was to feign indifference, but when he saw the +Wilsons, the Wrays, the Henrys, Canadian-bred and born, driving over to +the enemy's camp, with their Sunday clothes on and big boxes of +provisions on the "doggery" of their buckboards, his indifference fled +and was replaced by profanity. It comforted him a little when he +reflected that not an Orangeman had gone. They were loyal sons and +true, every one of them. These other ignorant Canadians might forget +what they owed to the old flag, but the Orangemen--never. + +Thomas's rage against the Yankees was intensified when he saw Father +O'Flynn walking across the plover slough. Then he was sure that the +Americans and Catholics were in league against the British. + +A mighty thought was conceived that day in the brain of Thomas +Shouldice, late Worshipful Master of the Carleton Place Loyal Orange +Lodge No. 23. They would celebrate the Twelfth, so they would; he'd +like to see who would stop them. Someone would stand up for the flag +that had braved a thousand years of battle and the breeze. He blew his +nose noisily on his red handkerchief when he thought of this. + +They would celebrate the Twelfth! They would "walk." He would gather up +"the boys" and get someone to make a speech. They would get a fifer +from Brandon. It was the fife that could stir the heart in you! And the +fifer would play "The Protestant Boys" and "Rise, Sons of William, +Rise!" Anyone that tried to stop him would get a shirt full of sore +bones! + +Thomas went home full of the plan to get back at the invaders! +Rummaging through his trunk, he found, carefully wrapped with chewing +tobacco and ground cedar, to keep the moths away, the regalia that he +had worn, proudly and defiantly, once in Montreal, when the crowd that +obstructed the triumphal march of the Orange Young Britons had to be +dispersed by the "melitia." It was a glorious day, and one to be +remembered with pride, for there had been shots fired and heads +smashed. + +His man, a guileless young Englishman, came in from mowing, gaily +whistling the refrain the Yankee band had been playing at intervals all +afternoon. It was "Dixie Land," and at first Thomas did not notice it. +Rousing at last to the sinister significance of the tune, he ordered +its cessation, in rosy-hued terms, and commended all such Yankee tunes +and those that whistled them to that region where popular rumor has it +that pots boil with or without watching. + +Thomas Shouldice had lived by himself for a number of years. It was +supposed that he had a wife living somewhere in "the States," which +term to many Canadians indicates a shadowy region where bad boys, +unfaithful wives and absconding embezzlers find refuge and dwell in dim +security. + +Thomas's devotion to the Orange Order was nothing short of a passion. +He believed that but for its institution and perpetuation Protestant +blood would flow like water. He always spoke of the "Stuarts" in an +undertone, as if he were afraid they might even yet come back and make +"rough house" for King Edward. + +There were only two Catholic families in the neighborhood, and +peaceable, friendly people they were, too; but Thomas believed they +should be intimidated to prevent trouble. "The old spite is in them," +he told himself, "and nothing will show them where they stand like a +'walk.'" + +The next day Thomas left his haying and rounded up the faithful. There +were seven members of the order in the community, all of whom were +willing to stand for their country's honor. There was James Shewfelt, +who was a drummer, and could play the tunes without the fife at all. +There was John Barker, who did a musical turn in the form of a twenty- +three verse ballad beginning: + + "When Popery did flourish in + Dear Ireland o'er the sea, + There came a man from Amsterdam + To set ould Ireland free! + To set ould Ireland free, boys, + To set ould Ireland free,-- + There came a man from Amsterdam + To set ould Ireland free!" + +There was William Breeze, who was a little hard of hearing, but loyal +to the core. He had seven boys in his family, so there was still hope +for the nation. There was Patrick Mooney, who should have been wearing +the other color if there is anything in a name. But there isn't. There +was John Burns, who had been an engineer, but, having lost a foot, had +taken to farming. He was the farthest advanced in the order next to +Thomas Shouldice, having served a term as District Grand Master, and +was well up in the Grand Black Chapter. These would form the nucleus of +the procession. The seven little Breezes would be admitted to the ranks +if their mother could find suitable decoration for them. Of course, the +weather was warm and the subject of clothing was not so serious as it +might have been. + +Thomas drove nineteen miles to the nearest town to get a speaker and a +fifer. The fifer was found, and, quite fortunately, was open for +engagement. The speaker was not so easily secured. Thomas went to the +Methodist missionary. The missionary was quite a young man and had the +reputation of being an orator. He listened gravely while his visitor +unfolded his plan. + +"I'll tell you what to do, Mr. Shouldice," he said, smiling, when the +other had finished the recital of his country's wrongs. "Get Father +O'Flynn; he'll make you a speech that will do you all good." + +Thomas was too astonished for words. "But he's a Papist!" he sputtered +at last. + +"Oh, pshaw! Oh, pshaw! Mr. Shouldice," the young man exclaimed; +"there's no division of creed west of Winnipeg. The little priest does +all my sick visiting north of the river, and I do his on the south. +He's a good preacher, and the finest man at a deathbed I ever saw." + +"This is not a deathbed, though, as it happens," Thomas replied, with +dignity. + +The young minister threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "Can't +tell that until it is over--I've been at a few Orange walks down East, +you know--took part in one myself once." + +"Did you walk?" Thomas asked, brightening. + +"No, I ran," the minister said, smiling. + +"I thought you said you took part," Thomas snorted, with displeasure. + +"So I did, but mine was a minor part. I stood behind the fence and +helped the Brennan boys and Patrick Costigan to peg at them!" + +"Are ye a Protestant at all?" Thomas roared at him, now thoroughly +angry. + +"Yes, I am," the minister said, slowly, "and I am something better +still; I am a Christian and a Canadian. Are you?" + +Thomas beat a hasty retreat. + +The Presbyterian minister was away from home, and the English Church +minister--who was also a young man lately arrived--said he would go +gladly. + +The Twelfth of July was a beautiful day, clear, sparkling and +cloudless. Little wayward breezes frolicked up and down the banks of +Moose Creek and rasped the surface of its placid pools, swollen still +from the heavy rains of the "First." In the glittering sunshine the +prairie lay a riot of color; the first wild roses now had faded to a +pastel pink, but on every bush there were plenty of new ones, deeply +crimson and odorous. Across the creek from Thomas Shouldice's little +house, Indian pipes and columbine reddened the edge of the poplar +grove, from the lowest branches of which morning-glories, white and +pink and purple, hung in graceful profusion. + +Before noon a wagon filled with people came thundering down the trail. +As they came nearer Thomas was astonished to see that it was an +American family from the Chippen Hill district. + +"Picnic in these parts, ain't there?" the driver asked. + +Thomas was in a genial mood, occasioned by the day and the weather. + +"Orange walk and picnic!" he replied, waving his hand toward the bluff, +where a few of the faithful were constructing a triumphal arch. + +"Something like a cake-walk, is it?" the man asked, looking puzzled. + +Mr. Shouldice stared at him incredulously. + +"Did ye never hear of Orangemen down yer way?" he said. + +"Never did, pard," the man answered. "We've peanut men, and apple +women, and banana men, but we've never heard much about orange men. But +we're right glad to come over and help the show along. Do you want any +money for the races?" + +"We didn't count on havin' races; we're havin' speeches and some +singin'." + +The Yankee laughed good-humoredly. + +"Well, friend, I pass there; but mother here is a W.C.T.U.-er from away +back. She'll knock the spots off the liquor business in fifteen +minutes, if you'd like anything in that line." + +His wife interposed in her easy, drawling tones: "Now, Abe, you best +shet up and drive along. The kids are all hungry and want their +dinners." + +"We'll see you later, partner," said the man as they drove away. + +Thomas Shouldice was mystified. "These Americans are a queer bunch," he +thought; "they're ignorant as all get out, but, gosh! they're +friendly." + +Over the hill to the south came other wagons filled with jolly +picnickers, who soon had their pots boiling over quickly-constructed +tripods. + +Thomas, who went over to welcome them, found that nearly all of them +were the very Americans whose unholy zeal for their own national +holiday had so embittered his heart eight days before. + +They were full of enquiries as to the meaning of an Orange walk. Thomas +tried to explain, but, having only inflamed Twelfth of July oratory for +the source of his information, he found himself rather at a loss. But +the Americans gathered that it was something he used to do "down East," +and they were sympathetic at once. + +"That's right, you bet," one gray-haired man with a young face +exclaimed, getting rid of a bulky chew of tobacco that had slightly +impeded his utterance. "There's nothin' like keepin' up old +institootions." + +By two o'clock fully one hundred people had gathered. + +Thomas was radiant. "Every wan is here now except that old Papist, +O'Flynn," he whispered to the drummer. "I hope he'll come, too, so I +do. It'll be a bitter pill for him to swallow." + +The drummer did not share the wish. He was thinking, uneasily, of the +time two years ago--the winter of the deep snow--when he and his family +had been quarantined with smallpox, and of how Father O'Flynn had come +miles out of his way every week on his snowshoes to hand in a roll of +newspapers he had gathered up, no one knows where, and a bag of candies +for the little ones. He was thinking of how welcome the priest's little +round face had been to them all those long, tedious six weeks, and how +cheery his voice sounded as he shouted, "Are ye needin' anything, +Jimmy, avick? All right, I'll be back on Thursda', God willin'. Don't +be frettin', now, man alive! Everybody has to have the smallpox. Sure, +yer shaming the Catholics this year, Jimmy, keeping Lent so well." The +drummer was decidedly uneasy. + +There is an old saying about speaking of angels in which some people +still believe. Just at this moment Father O'Flynn came slowly over the +hill. + +Father O'Flynn was a typical little Irish priest, good-natured, witty, +emotional. Nearly every family north of the river had some cause for +loving the little man. He was a tireless walker, making the round of +his parish every week, no matter what the weather. He had a little +house built for him the year before at the Forks of the Assiniboine, +where he had planted a garden, set out plants and flowers, and made it +a little bower of beauty; but he had lived in it only one summer, for +an impecunious English couple, who needed a roof to cover them rather +urgently, had taken possession of it during his absence, and the kind- +hearted little father could not bring himself to ask them to vacate. +When his friends remonstrated with him, he turned the conversation by +telling them of another and a better Man of whom it was written that He +"had not where to lay His head." + +Father O'Flynn was greeted with delight, by the younger ones +especially. The seven little Breezes were very demonstrative, and +Thomas Shouldice resolved to warn their father against the priest's +malign influence. He recalled a sentence or two from "Maria Monk," +which said something like this: "Give us a child until he is ten years +old, and let us teach him our doctrine, and he's ours for evermore." + +"Oh, they're deep ones, them Jesuits!" + +Father O'Flynn was just in time for the "walk." + +"Do you know what an Orange walk is, father?" one of the American women +asked, really looking for information. + +"Yes, daughter, yes," the little priest answered, a shadow coming into +his merry grey eyes. He gave her an evasive reply, and then murmured to +himself, as he picked a handful of orange lilies: "It is an institution +of the Evil One to sow discord among brothers." + +The walk began. + +First came the fife and drum, skirling out an Orange tune, at which the +little priest winced visibly. Then followed Thomas Shouldice, in the +guise of King William. He was mounted on his own old, spavined grey +mare, that had performed this honorable office many times in her youth. +But now she seemed lacking in the pride that befits the part. Thomas +himself was gay with ribbons and a short red coat, whose gilt braid was +sadly tarnished. One of the Yankees had kindly loaned a mottled buggy- +robe for the saddle-cloth. + +Behind Thomas marched the twenty-three-verse soloist and the other +faithful few, followed by the seven Breeze boys, gay with yellow +streamers made from the wrapping of a ham. + +The Yankees grouped about were sorry to see so few in the procession. +They had brought along three or four of their band instruments to +furnish music if it were needed. As the end of the procession passed +them, two of the smaller boys swung in behind the last two Breezes. + +It was an inspiration. Instantly the whole company stepped into line-- +two by two, men, women, and children, waving their bunches of lilies! + +Thomas, from his point of vantage, could see the whole company +following his lead, and his heart swelled with pride. Under the arch +the procession swept, stepping to the music, the significance of which +most of the company did not even guess at--good-natured, neighborly, +filled with the spirit of the West, that ever seeks to help along. + +Everyone, even Father O'Flynn, was happier than James Shewfelt, the +drummer. + +The fifer paused, preparatory to changing the tune. It was the +drummer's opportunity. "Onward, Christian Soldiers," he sang, tapping +the rhythm on the drum. The fifer caught the strain. Not a voice was +silent, and unconsciously hand clasped hand, and the soft afternoon air +reverberated with the swelling cadence: + +"We are not divided, +All one body we." + +When the verse was done the fifer led off into another and another. The +little priest's face glowed with pleasure. "It is the Spirit of the +Lord," he whispered to himself, as he marched to the rhythm, his hand +closely held by the smallest Breeze boy, whose yellow streamers and +profuse decoration of orange lilies were at strange variance with his +companion's priestly robes. But on this day nothing was at variance. +The spirit of the West was upon them, unifying, mellowing, harmonizing +all conflicting emotions--the spirit of the West that calls on men +everywhere to be brothers and lend a hand. + +The Church of England minister did make a speech, but not the one he +had intended. Instead of denominationalism, he spoke of brotherhood; +instead of religious intolerance, he spoke of religious liberty; +instead of the Prince of Orange, who crossed the Boyne to give +religious freedom to Ireland, he told of the Prince of Peace, who died +on the cross to save the souls of men of every nation and kindred and +tribe. + +In the hush that followed Father O'Flynn stepped forward and said he +thanked the brother who had planned this meeting; he was glad, he said, +for such an opportunity for friends and neighbors to meet; he spoke of +the glorious heritage that all had in this great new country, and how +all must stand together as brothers. All prejudices of race and creed +and doctrine die before the wonderful power of loving service. "The +West," he said, "is the home of loving hearts and neighborly kindness, +where all men's good is each man's care. For myself," he went on, "I +have but one wish, and that is to be the servant of all, to be the +ambassador of Him who went about doing good, and to teach the people to +love honor and virtue, and each other." Then, raising his hands, he led +the company in that prayer that comes ever to the lips of man when all +other prayers seem vain--that prayer that we can all fall back on in +our sore need: + +"Our Father, who art in heaven, +Hallowed be Thy name, +Thy Kingdom come." + +Two hours later a tired but happy and united company sat down to supper +on the grass. At the head of the table sat Thomas Shouldice, radiating +good-will. A huge white pitcher of steaming golden coffee was in his +hand. He poured a cup of it brimming full, and handed it to the little +priest, who sat near him. "Have some coffee, father?" he said. + +Where could such a scene as this be enacted--a Twelfth of July +celebration where a Roman Catholic priest was the principal speaker, +where the company dispersed with the singing of "God Save the King," +led by an American band? + +Nowhere, but in the Northwest of Canada, that illimitable land, with +its great sunlit spaces, where the west wind, bearing on its bosom the +spices of a million flowers, woos the heart of man with a magic spell +and makes him kind and neighborly and brotherly! + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Black Creek Stopping-House, by Nellie McClung + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CREEK STOPPING-HOUSE *** + +***** This file should be named 10164.txt or 10164.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/1/6/10164/ + +Produced by Brendan Lane, carol david and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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