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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } - -</style> -<title>THE SETTLER</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="The Settler" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Herman Whitaker" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1906" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="43450" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2013-09-14" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="The Settler" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="The Settler" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="settler.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2013-09-15T03:51:41.293424+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43450" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Herman Whitaker" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2013-09-14" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a7 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="the-settler"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">THE SETTLER</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: The Settler -<br /> -<br />Author: Herman Whitaker -<br /> -<br />Release Date: September 14, 2013 [EBook #43450] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE SETTLER</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 57%" id="figure-19"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="The Settler" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">The Settler</span></div> -</div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">THE SETTLER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">HERMAN WHITAKER</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">AUTHOR OF -<br />"THE MYSTERY OF THE BARRANCA" -<br />"THE PLANTER" ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS -<br />NEW YORK AND LONDON</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 52%" id="figure-20"> -<img class="align-center block center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Title page" src="images/img-title.jpg" /> -<div class="caption center centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Title page</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY HARPER & BROTHERS</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container dedication"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">TO -<br />ALYSE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-park-lands">The Park Lands</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-deputation">A Deputation</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-trail">The Trail</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-coyote-snaps">The Coyote Snaps</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#jenny">Jenny</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-shadow">The Shadow</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#mr-flynn-steps-into-the-breach">Mr. Flynn Steps into the Breach</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#when-april-smiled-again">When April Smiled Again</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-devil">The Devil</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#friction">Friction</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-frost">The Frost</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-break">The Break</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-camp">The Camp</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-red-teamster">The Red Teamster</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#travail">Travail</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-house-party">A House-party</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#and-its-finale">—And Its Finale</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-persistence-of-the-established">The Persistence of the Established</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-wages-of-sin">The Wages of Sin</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#is-death">—Is Death</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#persecution">Persecution</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#denunciation">Denunciation</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-charivari">The Charivari</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#without-the-pale">Without the Pale</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-sunken-grade">The Sunken Grade</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#winnipeg">Winnipeg</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-nature-of-the-cinch">The Nature of the Cinch</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-strike">The Strike</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-bluff">The Bluff</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#fire">Fire</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#wherein-the-fates-substitute-a-change-of-bill">Wherein the Fates Substitute a Change of Bill</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-trail-again">The Trail Again</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-park-lands"><span class="bold x-large">THE SETTLER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PARK LANDS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The clip of a cutting axe flushed a heron from the -bosom of a reedy lake and sent him soaring in -slow spirals until, at the zenith of his flight, he -overlooked a vast champaign. Far to the south a yellow -streak marked the scorched prairies of southern -Manitoba; eastward and north a spruce forest draped the -land in a mantle of gloom; while to the west the woods -were thrown with a scattering hand over a vast expanse -of rolling prairie. These were the Park Lands of the -Fertile Belt—a beautiful country, rich, fat-soiled, rank -with flowers and herbage, once the hunting-ground of -Cree and Ojibway, but now passed to the sterner race -whose lonely farmsteads were strewn over the face of -the land. These presented a deadly likeness. Each -had its log-house, its huge tent of firewood upreared -against next winter's drift, and the same yellow -strawstacks dotted their fenceless fields. One other thing, -too, they had in common—though this did not lie to -the eye of the heron—a universal mortgage, legacy of -the recent boom, covered all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the flap of the great bird's wing a man stepped -from the timber and stood watching him soar. He was -a tall fellow, lean as a greyhound, flat-flanked, in color -neither dark nor fair. His eyes were deep-set and -looked out from a face that was burned to the color of -a brick. His nose was straight and large, cheeks well -hollowed; the face would have been stern but for the -humor that lurked about the mouth. Taken together, -the man was an excellent specimen of what he was—a -young American of the settler type.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gone plumb out of sight," he muttered, rubbing his -dazzled eyes. "An' he wasn't no spring chicken. Time -to feed, I reckon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few steps carried him to his team, a rangy yoke of -steers which were tied in the shade. Having fed them, -he returned to his work and chopped steadily until, -towards evening, his wagon was loaded with poplar -rails. Then hitching, he mounted his load and -"hawed" and "geed" his way through the forest. As he -came out on the open prairie the metallic rattle of a -mower travelled down the wind. Stopping, he listened, -while a shadow deepened his tan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Comes from Morrill's big slough," he muttered, -whipping up the oxen. "Who'll it be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill, his near neighbor, was sick in bed, and the -rattle could only mean that some one was trespassing -on his hay rights—or rather the privilege which he -claimed as such—for trespass such as he suspected -was simply the outward sign of a change in the -settlement's condition. In the beginning the first-comers -had found an abundance of natural fodder growing in -the sloughs, where, for lack of a water-shed, the spring -thaws stored flood-waters. There was plenty then for -all. But with thicker settlement anarchy ensued. New -neighbors grabbed sloughs on unsettled lands, which -old-timers had sealed to themselves, and so forced them -to steal from one another. Morrill and the man on -the wagon had "hayed" together for the last three -seasons, which fact explained the significance he -attached to the rattle of the alien mower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Hines!" he muttered when, five minutes later, -he sighted the mower from the crown of a roll. "The -son of a gun!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man was running the first swath around a mile-long -slough which lay in the trough of two great rolls. -It was a pretty piece of hay, thick, rank, and so long -that one might have tied two spears together across a -horse's back. Indeed, when the settler rattled down -the bank and stopped his oxen they were hidden to -the horns, which fact accounted for Hines not seeing -them until his team brought against the load.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo!" he cried, startled. "Didn't expect to see -you, Carter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't reckon you did," the settler replied. The shadow -was now gone from his face. Cool, cheerful, unconcerned, -he sat in the mower's path, swinging an easy leg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines gave him an uneasy glance. "Been cutting -poles?" he asked, affecting nonchalance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Corral needed raising a couple of rails," -Carter carelessly answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Encouraged, Hines made an observation about the -crops which the other answered, and so the talk drifted -on until Hines, feeling that he had established a footing, -said, "Well, I must be moving." But as he backed -his horses to drive around, the steers lurched forward -and again blocked the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty cut of hay this." Carter ignored the other's -savage glance. "Ought to turn Morrill thirty tons, -don't you reckon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines shuffled uneasily in the mower seat. "I didn't -allow," he growled, "as Morrill would want hay this year?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No?" The monosyllable was subtly sarcastic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines flushed. "What kin a dead man do with -hay?" he snarled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is Morrill dead?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! But Doc Ellis tol' me at Stinkin' Water as he -couldn't live through winter." He almost yelled it; -opposition was galling his savage temper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you thought you'd beat the funeral?" Carter -jeered. "Savin' man! Well—he ain't dead yet?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The challenge was unmistakable. But though brutal, -ferocious as a wolf, Hines shared the animal's preferences -for an easy prey. Corner him and he would turn, snarling, -but his was the temper which takes no chances with -an equal force. Now he lived up to his tradition. -Viciously setting his teeth, he awaited the other's action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Carter was in no hurry. Leaning back on his -load, he sprawled at ease, turning his eyes to the -fathomless vault above. Time crept on. The oxen ceased -puffing and cropped the grass about them, the horses -switched impatience of the flies. The sun dropped and -hung like a split orange athwart the horizon, the hollows -blued with shadows, which presently climbed the knolls -and extinguished their golden lights. Soon the last red -ray kindled the forest, silver specks dusted the -darkening sky, only the west blushed with the afterglow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines tired first. "Quitting-time," he growled, backing -his horses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Took you a long time to find it out," Carter drawled, -giving the words a significance the other had not -intended. "But grace is always waiting for the sinner. So -long! But say!" he called after the disappearing figure, -"if you hear any one inquiring after this slough, you can -tell them as Merrill's goin' to cut it to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whipping up his oxen, he swung up the bank and -headed south on Merrill's hay trail. Fresh from their -rest, the steers stepped out to a lively rattling of chains, -and in a quarter of an hour stopped of their own volition -before his cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Carter entered, the sick man leaned on his elbow -and looked up at his magnificent inches: he loomed -like a giant in the gloom of the cabin. There was envy -in the glance but no spite. It was the look the sick -bestow on the rudely healthy. For Carter's physique -was a constant reminder to Morrill of his own lost -strength—he had been a college athlete, strong and -well set-up, the kind of man to whom women render -the homage of a second lingering glance. Three years -ago, inherited lung trouble had driven him from the -Eastern city in which he had laid the foundation of a -pretty law practice, but the dry air and open life of the -central plains had not checked the ravages of the -disease. Still, though but the wraith of his former self, -he had kept a brave face, and now he cheerfully -answered Carter's greeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cast your eye over this," he said, holding out an -open letter. "It's from my sister Helen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Handling it as tenderly as though it were a feather -from the wing of love, Carter held the letter to the lamp. -It was written in a small, feminine hand which took all -manner of flourishes unto itself as it ran along the lines. -Carter regarded them with a look in which surprise -struggled with respect. "Oh, shore!" he laughed at -last. "Them curly cues is mighty pretty, Bert, but it -would take too long for me to cipher 'em out. What's -it all about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's coming out. Arrives in Lone Tree day after -to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phew!" Carter whistled. "Short notice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He thoughtfully stroked his chin. Lone Tree lay -sixty miles to the south and the Eastern mail-train came -in at noon. But this was not the cause of his worry. -His ponies could cover the distance within the time. -But there was Hines. If he did not try the slough, -others might. Morrill mistook his silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hate to ask you to go," he said, hesitatingly. -"You've done so much for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Done nothing," the big man laughed. "'Twasn't that. -Jes' now I warned Hines off that big slough o' yours, -an' I intended to begin cutting it to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill impulsively extended his hand. "You're a -good fellow, Carter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shucks!" the other laughed. "Ain't we two the -only Yanks in these parts? But say! won't she find -this a bit rough?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill glanced discontentedly at the log walls, the -soap-boxes which served for seats, the home-made table, -and the peg ladder that led to the loft above. Three -years' hard work had rubbed the romance from his -rough surroundings, but he remembered that it had -once been there. "Oh, I don't know," he answered. -"She'll like it. Has all the romantic notions about -keeping home in a log-house, you see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never had 'em," the other mused, "though mebbe -that was on account of being born in one. What's -bringing her out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, now that father's dead I'm all the kin she's -got. He didn't leave anything worth mentioning, so -Helen has to choose between a place in a store and -keeping house for me. But say! your team's moving! -Don't tell her I'm sick," he called, as Carter rushed for the -door. "She'd worry, and think I was worse than I am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't very well," Carter muttered, as he ran -after his team. "No, she really couldn't," he repeated, -as he caught up and climbed upon his load. "Poor -chap!—An' poor little girl!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-deputation"><span class="bold large">II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A DEPUTATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Fifty miles in a day is big travel in the East, yet a -team of northern ponies will, if the load be light, run -it on three legs. The fourth, unless cinched with a -kicking-strap, is likely to be in the buck-board half the time; -but if the driver is good at dodging he need not use a strap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Starting next morning at sunrise, Carter ran through -the settlements, fed at the mission in the valley of the -Assiniboin at noon, then, climbing out, he rattled -south through the arid plains which cumber the earth -from the river to Beaver Creek. There Vickery, the -keeper of the stopping-house, yelled to him to put in -and feed. He had not seen a man for two weeks, and -his wells of speech were full to overflowing. But Carter -shook denial. Far off a dark smudge rose from under -the edge of the world—the smoke of the express, he -thought. One would have believed it within a dozen -miles, yet when, an hour later, he rattled into Lone -Tree, it seemed no nearer than when first it impinged -on the quivering horizon. This appearance, however, -was deceptive as the first, for he had scarcely unhitched -at the livery before an engine and two toy cars stole -out from under the smudge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"General manager's private car," the station agent -answered Carter's inquiry. "The old man lays over -here to talk with a deputation. It's over at the hotel -now, feeding and liquoring up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old grievance?" Carter asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The agent nodded. "That and others. They say -we're coming their flesh and blood. You should hear -old man Cummings orate on that. And they accuse -us of exacting forty bushels of wheat out of every -hundred we tote out to the seaboard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wheat at forty-five, freight to Montreal at -twenty-seven?" Carter mused. "Don't that pretty near size -it, Hooper?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that our fault?" the agent ruffled, like an irate -gobbler. "Did we freeze their wheat? Sound grain is -worth sixty-eight, and if they will farm at the north pole -they must expect to get frozen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if you will railroad at the north pole," Carter -suggested, "you ought to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get all that's coming to us," the agent finished. -"But we don't. Our line runs through fifteen hundred -miles of country that don't pay for axle-grease. We -must make running expenses, and ought to pay a -reasonable interest to our stockholders, though we haven't -yet. The settled lands have to bear hauling charges -on the unsettled. But these fellows don't see our side -of it. Where would they be without the line, anyway? -Now answer me that, Carter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back East, landless, homeless, choring for sixteen a -month an' board," Carter slowly answered. "I'm not -bucking your railroad, Hooper. But here's the point—your -people and the government sent out all sorts of -lying literature an' filled these fellows with the idea -that they were going to get rich quick; whereas this is -a poor man's country an' will be for a generation to -come. Five generations of farmers couldn't have built -this line which one generation must pay for. There's -the point. They've clapped a mortgage an' a -fifteen-hundred-mile handicap on their future, an' the interest -is going to bear their noses hard down on the grindstone. -They'll make a living, but they ain't going to have much -of a time. Their children's children will reap the profit -off their sweat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," the agent profanely agreed, "they ain't going -to have a hell of a time." Having spent his mature -years in one continuous wrangle over freights and rates, -it was positively disconcerting to find a farmer who -could appreciate the necessities of railroad economics, -and after a thoughtful pause the agent said, "You ain't -so slow—for a farmer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," Carter gravely answered. "Some day, -if I'm good, I may rise to the heights of railroading."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The agent grinned appreciatively. "Coming back to -the deputation, these fellows might as well tackle a -grizzly as the old man. There's not enough of you to -supply grease for a freight-train's wheels."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know," Carter gently murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten minutes ago the agent would have hotly proved -his point; now he replied, quite mildly: "If you think -different, tag on to the deputation. Here it comes, all -het-up with wrongs and whiskey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's Bill Cummings!" Carter indicated an elderly -man, very white of beard, very red of face, and -transparently innocent in expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's bell-wether," the agent said, grinning. Then, -as the approaching locomotive blew two sharp blasts, -he added, "Blamed if the old man won't make mutton -of the entire flock if they don't clear out of the way!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quick scattering averted the catastrophe while -increasing the heat of the deputation. Very much -disrumpled, it filed into the car, with Carter tagging on -behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The general manager, who was smoking by an open -window, tossed out his cigar as he rose. Not a tall -man, power yet expressed itself in every movement of -his thick-set body; it lurked in his keen gray glance; -was given off like electrical energy in his few crisp words -of welcome. From the eyes, placed well apart in the -massive head, to the strong jaw his every feature -expressed his graduation in the mastership of men; told -eloquently of his wonderful record, his triumphs over -man and nature. Beginning a section hand, he had -filled almost every position in the gift of his road, -driving spikes in early days with the same expertness he -now evidenced in directing its enormous affairs—the -road which had sprung from his own fertile imagination; -the road which, from nothing, he had called into -being. Where others had only discerned mountains, -gulfs, cañons, trackless forest, he had seen a great trunk -line with a hundred feeders—mills, mines, factories, -farms, and steamships plying to the Orient for trade. -And because his was the faith that moves mountains, -the magnificent dream had taken form in wood and iron.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Purblind to all but their own interests, the settlers -saw only the proximate result of that mighty -travail—the palace-car with its luxurious fittings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We pay for this," Carter's neighbor growled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My, but I'd like his job!" another whispered. "Nothing -to do but sit there and dictate a few letters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A third gave the figures of the manager's salary, while -a fourth added that it was screwed out of the farmers. -So they muttered their private envy while Cummings -voiced their public grievance. When surveys were run -for the trunk line, settlers had swarmed in, pre-empting -land on either side of the right of way, and when, to -avoid certain engineering problems, the surveys were -shifted south, they found themselves from fifty to sixty -miles from a market. A branch had been promised—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When settlement and traffic justify it." The -manager cut the oration short.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had listened quietly while Cummings talked of -rights, lawsuits, and government intervention; now he -launched his ultimatum on the following silence: -"Gentlemen, our road is not run for fun, but profit, and -though we should very much like to accommodate you, -it is impossible under the circumstances. I am pleased -to have met you, and"—the corners of the firm mouth -twitched ever so slightly—"and I shall be pleased to -meet you again when you can advance something more -to our advantage than costs and suits. I bid you good-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Business-like, terse, devoid of feeling, the laconic -answer acted upon the deputation like a blow in the face. -Cummings actually recoiled, and his expression of -sheep-like surprise, baffled wonder, innocent anger set -Carter chuckling. He was still smiling as he shouldered -forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A minute, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manager glanced at his watch. "I can't spare -you much more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't need it," Carter answered, and so took up -the case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Humorously allowing that Cummings had stepped off -with the wrong foot, that he and his fellows had no case -in law, Carter went on, in short, crisp sentences, to give -the number of settlers on the old survey, the acreage -under cultivation and of newly broken ground, the -lumbering outlook in the spruce forests north of the -Park Lands, the number of tye-camps already there -established, finishing with a brief description of the rich -cattle country the proposed line would tap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ten minutes had added themselves to the first while -he was talking, but the manager's gray glance had -evinced no impatience. "Now," he commented, "we -have something to go on. The settlements alone would -not justify us in building, but with the lumber—and -colonization prospects—" He mused a while, then, after -expressing regrets for the haste that called him away, he -said, "But if you will put all this and other information -into writing, Mr. Carter, I'll see what we can do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's big, the old man." Nodding at the black trail -of smoke, the agent thus commented on his superior five -minutes later. Then, indicating the deputation which -was making its jubilant way back to the clapboard -hotel, he said, "They ain't giving you all the credit, are -they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shrugging at the last remark, Carter answered the -first. "He's a big man, shorely. But, bless you"—he -flipped a thumb at the delegation—"they don't see it. -Any of 'em is willing to allow that the manager has had -chances that didn't fly by his particular roost—just as -though the same opportunity hadn't been tweaking him -by the nose this last twenty years. There it lay, loose, -loose enough for people to break their shins on, till this -particular man picked it up. He's big. Puts me in -mind of them robber barons you read of in history. -Big, powerful chaps, who trod down everything that -came in their own way while dealing out a rough sort -of justice. There's a crowd"—he looked at the agent -interrogatively—"that haven't had what's coming to -them. In their times moral suasion, as the parsons call -it, hadn't been invented and folks were a heap blooded. -A little bleeding once in a while kept down the temperature, -and I've always allowed that the barons prevented -a sight more murder than they did." Then, nailing his -point, he finished: "The historians fixed a cold deck for -them like the one they'll deal this general manager. -But you can't stop the world. She waggles in spite of -them, and it's the big men that make her go. But -there! I must eat. What does your ticker say of the -express?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Half an hour late. You'll just have nice time." And -as he watched the tall figure swinging across the -tracks, the agent gave words to a thought that was -even then in the general manager's mind—"There's a -division superintendent going to seed on a farm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having made up ten minutes, however, the train -rolled in while Carter was still at dinner, and as—for -some motive too subtle for even his own definition—he -had not mentioned her coming, Miss Helen Morrill had -become a subject of bashful curiosity to assembled Lone -Tree before he came dashing across the tracks. Apart -from his size, sunburn, and certain intelligence of -expression, there was really nothing to distinguish this -particular young man from the people who, at home, -were not on her visiting-list, and if polite the girl turned -rather a cold ear to a magnificently evolved and smoothly -told set of lies as he escorted her over to the hotel. -Morrill was busy with the hay, and as he, Carter, had to -come to town for a mower casting he had agreed to bring -her out. Her brother was well! A bit delicate! He -dare not raise her hopes too high. Oh, he'd pull through! -This clear northern air—and so forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That clear northern air! Glowing with color, infinite, -flat, the prairies basked under the afternoon sun. From -the car windows the girl had seen them unfolding: the -great screeds of God on which he had written his -wonders. Now nothing interposed between her and their -vast expanse. Swimming in lambent light they reached -out through the quivering distance till merged with the -turquoise sky. After she had dined, Carter showed her, -from the hotel veranda, the train from which she had -dismounted, no larger than a toy, puffing defiance at a -receding horizon. Other things he told her—curious facts, -strange happenings drawled forth easily with touches of -humor that kept her interested and laughing. Not until -the moon's magic translated the prairie's golden sheen -to ashes, and she unconsciously offered her hand as she -rose to retire, did she realize how completely she had -cancelled her first impression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was then that Lone Tree closed in on Carter with -invitations to drink and requests for verification of a -theory that the northern settlement was spreading itself -on educational lines. "She's a right smart-looking girl," -said the store-keeper, its principal exponent, "and Silver -Creek is surely going to turn out some scholars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he clucked his sympathy when he heard the -truth. "An' you say he's having hemerrages? Shore, -shore! Here, come over to the store. That girl don't -look like she'd been raised on sow-belly, an' sick folks is -mighty picky in their eating."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, by moonlight, the buck-board was loaded up with -jams, jellies, fruits, and meats, the best in stock and of -fabulous value at frontier prices. While the evil deed -was being perpetrated neither man looked at the other. -The store-keeper cloaked his villany by learned -discourse of freight rates, while Carter spoke indifferently -of crops. Only the parting hand-shake revealed each -conspirator to the other.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-trail"><span class="bold large">III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE TRAIL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"To make Flynn's for noon," Carter had said the -preceding evening, "we shall have to be early -on the trail." And there was approbation in his glance -when he found Helen Morrill waiting upon the veranda.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What pretty ponies!" she exclaimed, quickly adding, -"Are they—tame?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Regular sheep," he reassured her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, she still dubiously eyed the "sheep," which -were pawing the high heavens in beliance of their pacific -character, until, catching the humorous twinkle in -Carter's eye, she saw that he was gauging her courage. -Then she stepped in. As they felt her weight the ponies -plunged out and raced off down the trail; but Carter's -arm eased her back to her seat, and when, flushed and -just a little trembling, she was able to look back Lone -Tree lay far behind, its grain-sheds looking for all the -world like red Noah's arks on a yellow carpet. Over -them, but beyond the horizon, hung a black smudge, -mark of a distant freight-train. Wondering if one ever -lost sight of things in this country of distances, she -turned back to the ponies, which had now found a -legitimate outlet for their energies, and were knocking -off the miles at ten to the hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter drew a loose rein, but she noticed that even -when talking he kept the team in the tail of his eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he answered her question, "that Devil horse -will bear watching, and Death, the mare, is just about -as sudden. Why did I name her that?" He twinkled -down upon her. "You mightn't feel complimented if -I told."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—if I must," he drawled when she pressed the -question. "You see there's two things that can get -away with a right smart man—death and woman. So, -being a female—there! I told you that you wouldn't be -complimented."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't mind," she laughed. "Like curses, -slights on my sex come home to roost, Mr. Carter. -You are not dead yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor married," he retorted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This morning they had taken up their acquaintanceship -where it was laid down the night before, but now -something in his manner—it was not freedom; assurance -would better describe it—caused a reversion to her first -coldness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doubtless," she said, with condescension, "some -good girl will take pity on you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked squarely in her eyes. "Mebbe—though -the country isn't overstocked. Still, they've been -coming in some of late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The suddenness of it made her gasp. How dare he? -Even if he had been a man of her own station! Turning, -she looked off and away, giving him a cold, if pretty, -shoulder, till instinct told her that he was making good -use of his opportunities. But when she turned back -he was discreetly eying the ponies, apparently lost in -thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His preoccupation permitted minute study, and in -five minutes she had memorized his every feature, from -the clean profile to the strong chin and humorous mouth. -A clean, wholesome face she thought it. She failed, -however, to classify him for, despite his homely speech, -he simply would not fit in with the butchers, bakers, -and candle-stick makers of her limited experience. One -thing she felt, and that very vividly: he was not to be -snubbed or slighted. So—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do we follow the railroad much farther?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A smart mile," he answered. Then, with a sidelong -glance at the space between them, he added, "I wouldn't -sit on the rail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," she said, coldly. "I'm quite comfortable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tastes differ," he genially commented. Then, stretching -his whip, he added, "See that wolf!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a flash she abolished the space. "Oh, where? Will -he—follow us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mebbe not," he said, adding, as he noticed a disposition -on her part to edge out, "But he shorely looks -hungry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only a coyote, and afterwards she could never -recall the episode without a blush, but the fact remains -that while the grizzled apparition crowned a roll, she -threw dignity overboard and clung to Carter. It was -well, too, that she did, for more from deviltry than fear -of the gray shadow the ponies just then bolted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ensued a minute of dust, wind, bumpings; then, -without any attempt to check their speed, Carter got -the mad little brutes back to the trail. Several furious -miles had passed before, answering a gasping question -as to whether he couldn't stop them, that imperturbable -driver said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't trying very hard. They're going our way, -and we've got to hit this trail some licks to make Flynn's -by noon. He's the first settler north of the valley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They did hit it some "licks." One after another the -yellow miles slid beneath the buck-board, deadly in their -sameness. With the exception of that lone coyote, they -saw no life. Right and left the tawny prairies reached -out to the indefinite horizon; neither cabin nor -farmstead broke their sweep; save where the dark growths -of the Assiniboin Valley drew a dull line to the north, -no spot of color marred that great monochrome. Just -before they came to the valley Carter dashed around -the Red River cart of a Cree squaw. Shortly after they -came on her lord driving industrious heels into the ribs -of a ragged pony. Then the trail shot through a -bluff—rugged, riven, buttressed with tall headlands to whose -scarred sides dark woods clung, the mile-wide valley lay -before them. Up from its depths rose the cry of a bell. -Clear, silvery, resonant, it flowed with the stream, -echoed in dark ravines, filled the air with its rippling -music.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Catholic mission," Carter said, and as he spoke the -ponies plunged after the trail which fell at an angle of -forty-five into a black ravine. The girl felt as though -the earth had dropped from under, then, bump! the -wheels struck and went slithering and ricochetting -among the ruts and bowlders. A furious burst down -the last slopes and they were galloping out on the -bottom-lands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" she exclaimed, regaining breath. "What recklessness!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now do you really call that reckless?" His mild -surprise would have been convincing but for the wicked -twinkle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course—I do," she said, choking with fright and -indignation. "I believe—you did it on purpose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well." He shook a sorrowful head. "And to -think I shouldn't have knowed it! Look out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had swung by the log mission with the black-robed -priest in the door, circled the ruins of a Hudson -Bay fort, and now the Assiniboin Ford had suddenly -opened before them. Fed fat by mountain streams, the -river poured, a yeasty flood, over the ford, a roaring -terror of swift waters. While the girl caught her breath -they were in to the hubs, the thills; then the green -waters licked up through the buck-board staves. Half -wading, half swimming, the ponies were held to the -narrow passage by that master-hand. On either side -smooth, sucking mouths drew down to dangerous currents, -and, reaching, Carter flicked one with his whip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cree Injun drowned there last flood."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later he turned the ponies sharply -upstream and told of two settlers who had lingered a -second too long on that turn. Indeed, it seemed to Helen -as though each race, every eddy, perpetuated the -memory of some unfortunate. She sighed her relief when, -with a rush, the ponies took them up the bank, out of -the roar and swirl, into the shade of a ravine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Glancing up, she caught Carter regarding her with -serious admiration. "You'll do," he said. Then she -realized that this man, whom she had been trying to -classify with her city tradesmen, had been trying her -out according to his standards. The thought brought -sudden confusion. She blushed. But with ready tact -he turned and kept up a rapid fire of comment on the -country through which they were passing till she -recovered her composure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For they were now in the Park Lands, the antithesis -of the arid plains on the other side of the river. -Flower-bespangled, dotted with clump poplar, retaining in -August a suggestion of spring's verdure, the prairies -rolled off and away in long earth billows. Everywhere -rank herbage bowed in sunlit waves under the wind. -Nor was there lack of life. Here an elk sprang from -behind a bluff. A band of jumping deer followed him -over the horizon. There a covey of prairie-chickens rose -on whirring wing; a fox grinned at them from the crest -of a sand-hill. A rich country, the girl was remarking -on the lack of settlers when Carter extended his whip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's the first of them. That's Flynn's place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Speeding through the enormous grain-fields west of -Winnipeg, Helen had seen from the cars solitary cabins -of frame or sod, pinned down, as it were, in the exact -centre of a carpet of wheat, emphasizing with their -loneliness that vastness about them. But this was different, -more homelike, if quite as strange. Built of hewn logs -and lime-washed, Flynn's house nestled with its stables -and out-buildings under the wing of a poplar bluff. -Around it, of course, stretched the wheat; but here it -was merely an oasis, a bright shoal in the sea of brown -that flowed on to a distant dark line, the spruce forests -of the Riding Mountains.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bathed in sunshine, with cattle wandering at will, -knee-deep in pasture, it made a beautiful picture. The -girl came under its spell. She felt the freedom, the -witchery of those sun-washed spaces; their silences, -whispers, cloud-shadows, the infinity which broods upon -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is our place like this?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Prettier." Carter indicated the distant forest line. -"We are close in to the bush and the country is broken -up into woodland, lake, and rolling prairie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I can be happy," she sighed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Quickly averting his eyes that their sympathy might -not dampen her mood, he drew her attention to a man -who was cutting green fodder on the far side of the -wheat-field.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's Flynn."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-coyote-snaps"><span class="bold large">IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE COYOTE SNAPS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A tall Irishman of the gaunt Tipperary breed, -Flynn straightened as Carter reined in, and thrust -out a mighty paw. "Ye're welcome, ma'am; an' ye've -come in season, for the woman's just called to dinner. -Just drive on an' unhitch before the door."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it's a fine stand of wheat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Walking beside them, he replied to Carter's comment: -"Too foine. It's a troifle rank to ripen before the -frost." A wistful shade clouded his face, extinguished the -mercurial twinkle in his eye. "It 'll freeze, shure." The -accent on the last syllable was pitiable, for it told of long -waiting, hope deferred, labor ill-requited. It was the -voice of one who bolsters himself that the stroke of -fate may not utterly kill, who slays expectation lest it -betray him. Yet in its pessimism dead hope breathed. -"Yes, it 'll freeze," Flynn assured the malicious fates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At close range the house was not nearly so picturesque. -A motley of implements strewed the yard: ploughs, harrows, -rakes, a red-and-green binder, all resting hap-hazard -among a litter of chips, half-hewn logs, and other debris. -The stables were hidden by huge manure piles. The -place lacked every element of the order one sees on an -Eastern farm—rioted in the necessary disorder of -newness. Flynn's generation were too busy making farms; -tidiness would come with the next.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not realizing this, Helen was drawing unfavorable -parallels from the pervading squalor, when Mrs. Flynn, -who was simply Flynn in petticoats, came bustling out -with welcomes. Miss Morrill must come right in! It -was that long since she, Mrs. Flynn, had set eyes on a -woman's face that she had almost forgotten what they -looked like!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' you that fond av your glass, mother?" Flynn teased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glass, ye say?" Mrs. Flynn retorted. "Sure an' -'twas yerself that smashed it three months ago. It's -the bottom av a milk-pan he's been shaving in ever -since, my dear," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flynn winked. "An' let me advise you, Carter. If -ivir ye marry, don't have a glass in the house an' ye'll -be able to see ye'self in ivery tin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out at the stable the merriment died from his face, -and facing Carter he asked: "Phwat's up between ye -and Hines? I was taking dinner with Bender yesterday, -an' while we was eating along came Hines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'There's a man,' he says, spaking to Bender av you. -'There's a man! big, impident, strong. Ye're no chicken, -Bender, but ye couldn't put that fellow's shoulders to -the ground.' I'm not needing to tell you the effect on -Bender?" Flynn finished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter nodded. He knew the man. Big, burly, -brutal, Bender was a natural product of the lumber-camps -in which he had lived a life that was little more -than a calender of "scraps." Starting in at eighteen -on the Mattawa, he had fought his way to the head of -its many camps, then passed to the Michigan woods and -attained the kingship there. He </span><em class="italics">lived</em><span> rather than </span><em class="italics">loved</em><span> -to fight. But, though in the northern settlements Carter -was the only man who approximated the lumberman's -difficult standard in courage and inches, so far fate had -denied him cause of quarrel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The coyote!" Flynn exclaimed, when Carter had -told of Hines's attempt on Morrill's hay-slough. "An' -him sick in bed, poor man. I wouldn't wipe me feet on -Hines's dirty rag av a soul. But he's made ye some -mischief. 'Ye're a liar, Hines!' Bender growls. 'I can -lick him er any other man betwixt this an' the Rockies.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hines didn't like the lie, but he gulped it. 'Talk's -cheap,' he snarls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Carter's a good neighbor,' Bender answers. 'But if -he gives me a cause—'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'A </span><em class="italics">cause</em><span>?' Hines cackles, laughing. 'Why, him an' -Morrill have grabbed all the best hay in Silver Creek an' -defy anny man to touch it. Run your mower into their -big slough an' ye'll have cause enough.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That made Bender hot. 'I'll do it!' he roars, 'this -very day.' But," Flynn finished, "he had to run out to -the blacksmith's to fix his mower sickle, so he won't get -out till to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If ye need anny help—" he said, tentatively, as -Carter pondered with frowning brow. Then, catching the -other's eye, he hastily added: "Ye'll pardon me! But -Bender's a terr'ble fighter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His alarm was so palpable that Carter laughed. -"Don't bother," he said. "I'm not going to roll, bite, -chew, or gouge with Bender."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here!" Flynn interposed, with additional alarm. -"Ye'll not be after making anny gun-plays? This is -Canada, ye'll mind, where they hang folks mighty easy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter laughed again. "There won't be any fight. -Listen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Flynn did listen. As he grasped the other's -meaning, his face cleared and his hearty laugh carried -to the house where Helen was making the acquaintance -of the smaller Flynns. Six in number, bare-legged, and -astonishingly regular in gradation, they scampered like -mice on her entrance and hid behind the cotton partition -that divided bedroom from kitchen. For a while they -were quiet, then Helen became aware of a current of -stealthy talk underflowing Mrs. Flynn's volubility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ain't her waist small?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet you she wears stays the hull time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like them mother puts on to meetin'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shore!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Git out; her face ain't red. Mother nearly busts -when she hitches her'n."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ain't that yaller hair pretty?" This sounded like a -girl, though it was hard to decide, for all wore a single -sexless garment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet you it ain't all her'n. Dad says as them city -gals is all took to pieces when they go to bed." This was -surely a boy, and, unfortunately for him, the remark -sailed out on a pause in his mother's comment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"James!" she exclaimed, raising shocked hands. -"Come right here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came slowly, suspiciously, then, divining from his -parent's look the enormity of his crime, he dived under -her arm, shot out-doors, and was lost in the wheat. After -him, a cataract of bare limbs, poured the others, all -escaping but one small girl whom Helen caught, kissed, -and held thereafter in willing bondage until, after -dinner, Carter drove round to the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though they had rested barely an hour after their -forty-mile run, the ponies repeated the morning's -performance, to the horror of Mrs. Flynn; then, as though -realizing that they had done all that reputation required, -they settled down to a steady jog—in which respect, -colloquially, they were imitated by their human freight. -A little tired, Helen was content to sit and take silent -note of the homesteads which now occurred at regular -intervals, while Carter was perfecting his plan for the -discomfiture of the warlike Bender. Slough, lake, -wood-land, farm passed in slow and silent procession. Once -he roused to answer her comment as they rattled by -some Indian graves that crowned a knoll.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To keep the coyotes from robbing the resurrection," -he explained the poplar poles that roofed in the graves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke again when the buck-board ran in among a -score of curious mud pillars. About thrice the height -of a man, inscriptionless, they loomed, weird guardians -of that lonely land till he robbed their mystery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Them? Mud chimneys. You see, when a Cree -Indian dies his folks burn down the cabin to keep his -spirit from returning, and as mud won't burn the -chimneys stand. Small-pox cleaned out this village." Then, -with innocent gravity, he went on to tell of a stray -scientist who had written a monograph on those very -chimneys. "'Monoliths' he called 'em. Allowed that -they were dedicated to a tribal god, and was used to -burn prisoners captured in war. It was a beautiful -theory and made a real nice article. Why did I let -him? Well, now, 'twould have been a sin to enlighten -him, he was that blamed happy poking round them -chimneys, and the folks that read his article wouldn't -know any better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Chuckling at the remembrance, he relapsed again to -his planning, and did not speak again till they had -crossed the valley of Silver Creek from which the -northern settlement took its name. Then, indicating a black -dot far off on the trail, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There comes Molyneux."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two in the rig," he added, a few minutes later. "A -man and a woman. That 'll be Mrs. Leslie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unaccustomed to the plainsman's vision, which senses -rather than sees the difference of size, color, movement -that mark cattle from horses, a single rig from a double -team, Helen was dubious till, swinging out from behind -a poplar bluff, the team bore down upon them. Two -persons were in the rig: a man of the blackly handsome -type, and a stylish, pretty woman, who, as Carter turned -out to drive by, waved him to stop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monopolist!" she scolded, when the rigs ranged side -by side. "Here I'm just dying to meet Miss Morrill -and you would have whisked her by. Now do your duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Molyneux," she said, introducing her -companion in turn. "A neighbor. We just heard this -morning that you were coming and I was so glad; and -I'm gladder now that I've seen you." Her glance -travelled admiringly over Helen's face and figure. "You -know there are so few women here, and they—" Her -pretty nose tip-tilted. "Well, you'll see them. Soon I -shall make my call; carry you off for a few days, if your -brother will permit it. But there! I'm keeping you -from him. Good-bye. Now you may go, Mr. Carter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A touch of merry defiance in the permission caused -Helen to glance up at her companion. Though Mrs. Leslie's -glance was almost caressing whenever it touched -him, he had stared straight ahead of him while she -chatted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't like them?" the girl asked. "Why? She -likes you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His sternness vanished and he smiled down upon her. -"Now, what made you think that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't think; I felt it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Funny things, feelings, ain't they? I mind one that -took me fishing when I ought to have been keeping -school. 'Twas a beautiful day. Indian-summer back -East. You know 't: still, silent, broody, warm; first -touch of gold in the leafage. I just </span><em class="italics">felt</em><span> that I had to -go fishing. But when dad produced a peeled hickory -switch that night he told me: 'Son, feelings is treacherous -things. This will teach you the difference between -thinking and knowing.' It did—for a while."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you don't like them?" she persisted, refusing to -be side-tracked. Then she blushed under his look of -grave surprise, realizing that she had broken one of the -unwritten canons of frontier etiquette. "I beg your -pardon," she said, hastily. "I didn't mean to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His smile wiped out the offence. Stretching his whip, -he said, "There's your house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen cried aloud. Nestling under the eaves of green -forest, it faced on a lake that lay a scant quarter-mile -to the south. North, west, and south, trim clump -poplar dotted its rolling land and rose in the fields of -grain. Here nature, greatest of landscape-gardeners, -had planned her best, setting a watered garden within -a fence of forest. Just for a second the house flashed -out between two green bluffs, a neat log building, -lime-washed in settler style, then it was snatched again from -her shining eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Carter had seen a figure standing at the door. -"Clear grit!" he mentally ejaculated. "Blamed if he -ain't up and dressed to save her feelings." Then, aloud, -he gave her necessary warnings. "Now you mustn't -expect too much. He's doing fine, but no doubt pulled -down a bit since you saw him."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Two hours later Carter stepped out from his own -cabin. He and Morrill had "homesteaded" halves of -the same section, and as he strode south the latter's -lamp beamed a yellow welcome through the soft night. -Already he had refused an invitation to supper, deeming -that the brother and sister would prefer to spend their -first evening alone together, and now ignoring the -lamp's message, he entered Merrill's stable, saddled the -latter's cattle pony in darkness thick as ink, led him out, -and rode quietly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now of all equines, your northern cross-bred pony is -the most cunning. For three black miles Shyster -behaved with propriety, then, sensing by the slack line -that his rider was preoccupied, he achieved a vicious -sideling buck. Well executed, it yet failed of its intent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You little devil!" Carter remonstrated, as he applied -correctives in the form of quirt and spurs. "Rest don't -suit your complaint. To-morrow you go on the mower."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo!" a voice cried from the darkness ahead. -"Who's that cussing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Danvers, an English remittance-man, a typical -specimen of the tribe of Ishmael which is maintained in -colonial exile on "keep-away" allowances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you lost?" Carter asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lost? No!" There was an aggrieved note in Danvers' -tone. "You fellows seem to think that I oughtn't -to be out after dark. There's Jed Hines going about -and telling people that I knocked at my own door one -night to inquire my way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tut, tut," Carter sympathized. "And Jed counted -such a truthful man! You'll find it hard to live that -down. But where might you be heading for now—if -it's any of my darn business?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Morrill's. Heard his sister had arrived. I'm going -to drop in and pay my respects."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Humph! that's neighborly. They've had just two -hours to exchange the news of three years; they'll -shorely be through by this. Keep right on, son. In -five-and-twenty minutes this trail will land you at Jed -Hines's door."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, get out!" Danvers exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir, to you?" Carter assumed a wonderful stiffness. -"I'll give you good-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, here!" the youth called after him. "I didn't -mean to doubt you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter rode on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ridden by a vivid memory of the jeering Hines, -Danvers became desperate. "Oh, Carter! Say, don't -get mad! Do tell a fellow! How shall I get there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter reined in. "Where? To Hines's? Keep right -along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"N-o! Morrill's?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, let me see. One—two—three—take the third -fork to the left and second to the right; that ought to -bring you—to your own door," he finished, as he -listened to the departing hoof-beats. "That is, if -you follow directions, which ain't likely. Anyway," he -philosophically concluded, "you ain't agoing to bother -that girl much to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Spurring Shyster, he galloped on, and in ten -minutes caught Murchison, an Englishman of the yeoman -class, out at his stables. Receiving a hearty affirmative, -rounded out with full-mouthed English "damns," in -answer to his question, he declined Murchison's -invitation to "put in," and rode on—rode from homestead to -homestead, asking always the same question, receiving -always the same answer. Remittance-men, Scotch -Canadians, Seebach, the solitary German settler, alike -listened, laughed, and fell in with the plan as Flynn had -done. He covered many miles and the moon caught -him on trail before he permitted the last man to carry -his cold legs back to bed. It was long past midnight -when he unsaddled at Morrill's stable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Softly closing the door on his tired beast, he stood -gazing at the house. Far-off in the woods a night-owl -hooted, a bittern boomed on the lake shore, the still air -pulsed to the howl of a timber-wolf. Though born of -the plains, its moods had never palled upon him. -Usually he had been stirred. But now he had no ears for the -night nor eyes for the lake chased in rippled silver. -He listened, listened, as though his strained hearing -would drag the girl's soft sleep breathing from the -house's jealous embrace. Soon he leaned back against -the door musing; and when, having inspected the cabin -from one side, the moon sailed over and looked down -on the other, he was still there.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As the first quivering flushes shot through the grays -of dawn Bender came out of his cabin. He intended -to be at work on Merrill's big slough at sunrise. But as -he rammed home the sickle into its place in the -mower-bar a projecting rivet caused it to buckle and break. -That spelled another journey to the blacksmith's, and -the sun stood at noon before the sickle was in place. -Falling to oiling with savage earnestness, that an ancient -Briton might have exhibited in greasing his scythe-armed -war-chariot, Bender then stuffed bread and meat -into his jumper, hitched, and drove off north, looking -for all the world like a grisly pirate afloat on a yellow -sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour's easy jogging would carry him to -Merrill's big slough, but on the way he had to pass two -smaller ones. The first, which had a hundred-yard belt -of six-foot hay ringing its sedgy centre, tempted him -sorely, yet he refrained, having in mind a bigger prey. -At the next he reined in, and stared at a dozen cut -swaths and a mower with feeding horses tied to its -wheels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Molyneux's mower, and to Bender its presence -could only mean that the settlement was rushing the -sick man's sloughs. "Invasion of the British!" he -yelled. "What 'll Carter say to this? Remember Yorktown!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was still laughing when a buck-board came rattling -up the trail behind him. It was Hines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cut that slough yet?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just going there," Bender answered; then gave the -reason of his delay, garnished with furious anathema on -the maker of sickles. "But ain't that a joke?" he said, -indicating Molyneux's mower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines whinnied his satisfaction. "Didn't think it was -in the Britisher. But my! won't that gall the long-geared -son of a gun of a Yank? Drive on an' I'll follow -up an' see you started—mebbe see some of the fun," he -added to himself, "if Carter's there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Quarter of an hour brought them to the big slough, -which, on this side, was ringed so thickly with willow-scrub -that neither could see it till they reined on its -edge. Both stared blankly. When Hines went by that -morning a mile of solid hay had bowed in sunlit waves -before the breeze. Save a strip some twenty yards wide -down the centre, it now lay in flat green swaths, while -along the strip a dozen feeding teams were tied to as -many mowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A bee, by G—!" Bender swore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hell!" Hines snarled even in his swearing. "Bilked, -by the Almighty!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment they stood, staring from the slough to -each other, the lumberman red, angry, foolish, Hines -the personification of venomous chagrin. Presently his -rage urged him to a great foolishness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You an' your casting!" he sneered. "Scairt, you -was—plumb scairt!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Astonishment, the astonishment with which a bull -might regard the attack of an impertinent fly, obliterated -for one moment all other expression from Bender's -face. Then, roaring his furious anger, he sprang from -his mower.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Realizing his mistake, Hines had already lashed his -ponies, but even then they barely jerked the buck-board -tail from under the huge, clutching fingers. Foaming -with passion, Bender gave chase for a score of yards, -then stopped and shook his great fist, pouring out -invective.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-morrow," he roared, "I'll come over and cut on you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter? You seem all het up?" Carter's -quiet voice gave Bender first notice of the buckboard -that had come quietly upon him from the grassy -prairie. With Carter were Flynn, Seebach, and two -others. Not very far away a wagon was bringing others -back from dinner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We're all giving Morrill a day's cutting," Carter went -on, with a quiet twinkle. "I called at your place this -morning with a bid, but you was away. We're right -glad to see you. Who told you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gradually a grin wiped out Bender's choler. "You're -damn smart," he rumbled. "Well—where shall I begin?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="jenny"><span class="bold large">V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">JENNY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus did the bolt which Hines forged for Carter -prove a boomerang and recoil upon himself. For -next morning Bender started his mower on a particularly -fine slough which Hines had left to the last because -of its wetness. Moreover, Hines had ten tons of cut -hay bleaching near by in the sun and dare not try to -rake it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was oppressively hot the morning that Bender -hitched to rake the stolen slough; fleecy thunder-heads -were slowly heaving up from behind the swart spruce -forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twon't be worth cow-feed if it ain't raked to-day," -the giant remarked, as he overlooked his enemy's hay. -Then his satisfaction gave place to sudden anger—a -rake was at work on Hines's hay less than a quarter-mile away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hain't seen me, I reckon," Bender growled. Leaving -his own rake, he crouched in a gully, skulked along -the low land, gained a willow thicket, and sprang out -just as the rake came clicking by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I've got you!" he roared. Then his hands -dropped. He stood staring at a thin slip of a girl, who -returned his gaze with dull, tired eyes. It was Jenny -Hines, Jed's only child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," Bender growled, "what d' you reckon you're doing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Raking." Her voice was listless as her look. Just -eleven when her mother died, her small shoulders had -borne the weight of Jed's housekeeping. Heavy -choring had robbed her youth, and left her, at eighteen, -nothing but a faded shadow of a possible prettiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender coughed, shuffled. "Where's your dad?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Up at the house. He allowed you wouldn't tech -me. But," she added, dully, "I'd liefer you killed me -than not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender's anger had already passed. Rough pity now -took its place. His furious strength prevented him -from realizing the killing drudgery, the lugging of heavy -water-buckets, the milking, feeding of pigs, the hard -labor which had killed her spirit and left this utter -hopelessness; but he knew by experience that a young -horse should not be put to a heavy draw, and here was -a violation of the precept. Bender was puzzled. Had -he come on a neighbor maltreating a horse, a curse -backed by his heavy fist would have righted the wrong; -but this frail creature's humanity placed her wrongs -outside his rough remedial practice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He whistled, swore softly, and, failing to invoke -inspiration by these characteristic methods, he said, -kindly: "Well, for onct Jed tol' the truth. Must have strained -him some. Go ahead, I ain't agoing to bother you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having finished raking his own hay, he fell to work -with the fork, stabbing huge bunches, throwing them -right and left, striving to work off the pain at his heart. -But pity grew with exertion, and, pausing midway of -the morning, he saw that she also was plying a weary -fork.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need a rest," he growled five minutes later. -"Sit down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She glanced up at the ominous sky. "Can't. Rain's -coming right on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lifting her bodily, he placed her in a nest of hay. -"Now you stay right there. I'm running this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Picking up her fork, he put forth all his magnificent -strength while she sat listlessly watching. It seemed -as though nothing could banish her chronic weariness, -her ineffable lassitude. Once, indeed, she remarked, -"My, but you're strong!" but voice and words lacked -animation. She added the remarkable climax, "Pa says -you are a devil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes?" he questioned. "An' you bet he's right, gal. -Keep a right smart distance from men like me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know," she slowly answered. "I'd liefer -be a devil. Angels is tiresome. Pa's always talking -about them. He's a heap religious—in spells."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pausing in his forking, Bender stared down on the -small heretic. Vestigial traces of religious belief -occupied a lower strata of his savage soul. Crude they -were, anthropomorphic, barely higher than superstitions, -yet they were there, and chief among them was an idea -that has appealed to the most cultured of men—that -woman is incomplete, nay, lost, without religion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shore, child!" he protested. "Little gals shouldn't -talk so. That ain't the way to get to heaven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"D' you allow to go there?" she demanded, with -disconcerting suddenness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender grimaced, laughed at the ludicrousness of the -question. "Don't allow as I'd be comfortable. -Anyway, lumbermen go to t'other place. But that don't -alter your case. Gals all go to heaven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" For the first time she displayed some animation. -"I ain't! Pa's talked me sick of it. I allow -it's them golden streets he's after. He'd coin 'em into -dollars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seeing that Hines had not hesitated in minting this, -his flesh and blood, Bender thought it very likely, and -feeling his inability to cope with such reasonable heresies -he attacked the hay instead. Having small skill in -women—the few of his intimate experience being as free -of feminine complexities as they were of virtue—he was -sorely puzzled. Looking backward, he remembered his -own pious mother. Hines's wife had died whispering of -religion's consolations; yet here was the daughter -turning a determined back on the source of the mother's -comfort. It was unnatural to his scheme of things, -contrary to the law of his vestigial piety. He would -try again! But when, the hay finished, he came back -to her, he quailed before her pale hopelessness; it called -God in question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Limbering up her rake, he watched her drive away, a -small, thin figure, woful speck of life under a vast gray -sky. For twisting cloud masses had blotted out the -sun, a chill wind snatched the tops from the hay-cocks -as fast as Bender coiled them, blots of water splashed -the dust before he finished his task.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Black care rode home with him; and as that night -the thunder split over his cabin, he saw Jenny's eyes -mirrored on the wet, black pane, and it was borne dimly -upon him that something besides overwork was -responsible for their haunting.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Bender had a friend, a man of his own ilk, with whom -he had hit camp and log-drive for these last ten years. -At birth it is supposable that the friend inherited a -name, but in the camps he was known only as the -"Cougar." A silent man, broad, deep-lunged, fierce-eyed, -nature had laid his lines for great height, then -bent him in a perpetual crouch. He always seemed -gathering for a spring, which, combined with tigerish -courage, had gained him his name. Inseparable, if -Bender appeared on the Mattawa for the spring drive, -it was known that the Cougar might be shortly -expected. If the Cougar stole into a Rocky Mountain camp, -a bunk was immediately reserved for his big affinity. -Only a bottle of whiskey and two days' delay on the -Cougar's part had prevented them from settling up the -same section. However, though five miles lay between -their respective homesteads, never a Sunday passed -without one man riding over to see the other, and it -was returning from such a visit that Bender next fell -in with Jenny Hines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was night and late, but as Bender rode by the -forks where Hines's private road joined on to the Lone -Tree trail, a new moon gave sufficient light for him to -see a whitish object lying in the grass. He judged it a -grain-sack till a convulsion shook it and a sob rose to -his ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good land, girl!" he ejaculated, when, a moment -later, Jenny's pale face turned up to his, "what are you -doing here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's turned me out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jed." The absence of the parental title spoke -volumes—of love killed by slow starvation, cold sternness, -of youth enslaved to authority without mitigation of -fatherly tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without understanding, Bender felt. "What for?" -he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crowding against his stirrup, she remained silent, and -the touch of her body against his leg, the mute appeal -of the contact, sent a flame of righteous passion through -Bender's big body. Indecision had never been among -his faults. Stooping, he raised her to the saddle before -him, and as she settled in against his broad breast a -wave of tenderness flowed after the flame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" she begged, when he turned in on Jed's -trail. "I won't go back!" And he felt her violently -trembling as he soothed and coaxed. She tried to slip -from his arms as they approached the cabin, and her -terror filled him with such anger that his kick almost -stove in the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's me!" he roared, answering Hines's challenge. -"Bender! I came on your gal lying out on the prairies. -Open an' take her in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In response the window raised an inch; the moonlight -glinted on a rifle-barrel. "Kick the door ag'in!" Jed's -voice snarled, "an' I'll bore you. Git! the pair -of ye!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, come, Jed." For her sake Bender mastered -his anger. "Come, this ain't right. Let her in an' -we'll call it by-gones."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" the girl protested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though she had whispered, Jed heard, and her -protest touched off his furious wolfish passion. "Git! -Won't you git!" he screeched, following the command -with a stream of screamed imprecations, vile abuse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If alone Bender would have beaten in the door, but -there was no mistaking Hines's deadly intent. Warned -by the click of a cocking hammer, he swung Jenny in -front again, galloped out of range; then, uncertain -what to do, he gave his beast its head, and half an hour -later brought up at his own door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, sis," he said, as he lit his lamp, "make yourself -happy while I stable Billy. Then I'll cook up some -grub, an' while we're eating we can talk over things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled wanly yet gratefully. But when he -returned she was rocking back and forth and moaning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't take on so," he comforted. "To-night I'll -sleep in the stable; at daybreak we'll hit south for -Mother Flynn's." But the moans followed in quick -succession, beaded sweat started on her brow, and as -she swung forward he saw that which, two hours before, -had turned Jed Hines into a foaming beast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my God!" The exclamation burst from him. -"You pore little thing! you pore little child! Only a -baby yourself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stooping, he lifted her into his bed, tucked her in, -then stood, doubtful, troubled, looking down upon her. -Two-thirds of the settlers in Silver Creek were of Scotch -descent; were deeply dyed with the granite hardness, -harsh malignancy, fervid bigotry which have caused the -history of their race to be written in characters of blood. -Fiercely moral, dogmatically religious, she could expect -no mercy at their hands. Hard-featured women, whose -angular unloveliness had efficiently safeguarded their -own virtue, would hate her the more because her fault -had been beyond their compass. Looking forward, -Bender saw the poor little body a passive centre for a -whorl of spite, jealousy, virulent spleen, and the rough -heart of him was mightily troubled. In all Silver Creek, -Mrs. Flynn was the only woman to whom he felt he -might safely turn. But Flynn's farm lay eighteen miles -to the south—too far; the child was in imminent labor. -What should he do?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jenny," he said, "any women folk been to your -house lately?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she answered that they had been without a -visitor for three months, Bender nodded his satisfaction. -"Lie still, child," he said. "I'll be back right smart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was not gone long—just long enough to drive over -to and back from Carter's. "I'm not trusting any of -the women hereabouts," he told Carter. "Though it -ain't generally known, the Cougar was married once. -The same Indians that did up Custer cleaned up his -wife and family. An' as he always lived a thousand -miles from a doctor, he knows all about sech things. -So if you'll drive like all hell for him, I'll tend to the -little gal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Carter drove. In one hour he brought the -Cougar, but even in that short time a wonderful -transformation was wrought in that rough cabin under -Bender's sympathetic eyes. From the travail of the -suffering girl was born a woman—but not a mother. For of -the essence of life Jenny had not sufficient to endow the -child of her labor. The spark flickered down in herself, -sank, till the Cougar, roughest yet gentlest of nurses, -sweated with apprehension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's death or a doctor," he told Carter, hiding his -emotion under a surly growl. "Now show what them -ponies are good for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And that night those small fiends did "show what -they were good for";—made a record that stood for -many a year. Roused from his beauty-sleep, Flynn -caught the whir of hot wheels and wondered who was -sick. It was yet black night when Carter called Father -Francis, the silent mission priest, from his bed. By -lantern-light they two, layman and priest, spelled each -other with pick and shovel in the mission acre, and when -the last spadeful dropped on the small grave, Carter -flew on. At cock-crow he pulled into Lone Tree, sixty -miles in six hours, without counting the stop at the -mission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I doubt I've killed you," he murmured, as the ponies -stood before the doctor's door, "but it just had to be -done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor himself answered the knock. A heavy -man, grizzled, gray-eyed, sun and wind had burned his -face to leather, for his days and nights were spent on -trail, pursuing a practice that was only limited by the -endurance of horse-flesh. From the ranges incurably -vicious broncos were sent to his stables, devils in brute -form. He used seven teams; yet the toughest wore -out in a year. Day or night, winter or summer, a -hundred in the shade or sixty below, he might be seen -pounding them along the trails. Even now he had just -come in from the Pipe Stone, sixty miles southwest, but -he instantly routed out his man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hitch the buckskins, Bill," he said, "and let him -run yours round to the stables, Carter. He'll turn 'em -out prancing by the time we're back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It took Bill, the doctor, and Carter to get the buckskins -clear of town, but once out the doctor handed the -lines to Carter. "Now let 'em run." Then he fell -asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He woke as they passed the mission, exchanged words -with the priest, and dozed again till Carter reined in at -Bender's door. Then, shedding sleep as a dog shakes -off water, he entered, clear-eyed, into the battle with -death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was night when he came out to Bender and Carter, -sprawled on the hay in the stable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She'll live," he answered the lumberman's look, -"but she must have woman's nursing. Who's to be? -Mrs. Flynn?" He shook his head. "A good woman, -but—she has her sex's weakness—damned long-tongued."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender looked troubled. "There ain't a soul knows -it—yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor nodded. "Yes, yes, but I doubt whether -you can keep it, boys."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," Carter said, slowly, "that if it was rightly -put Miss Morrill might—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That sweet-faced girl?" The doctor's gray eyes lit -with approval, and the cloud swept back from Bender's -rugged face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If she only would!" the giant stammered, "I'd—" He -cast about for a fitting recompense, and finding none -worth, finished, "There ain't a damn thing I wouldn't -do for her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor took doubt by the ears. "Well, hitch -and let's see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Realizing that the girl would probably have her fair -share of the prejudice, he opened his case very gently -an hour later. But he might have saved his diplomacy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course!" she exclaimed, as soon as she grasped -the facts. "Poor little thing! I'll go right over with -Mr. Bender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And remember," the doctor said, finishing his -instructions, "she needs mothering more than medicine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, satisfied, he and Carter hit the back trail, but not -till he had examined Morrill with stethoscope and -tapping finger. "Must have some excuse for my trip," he -said, "and you'll have to serve. So don't be scared if -you happen to hear that you have had another hemorrhage. -Good! Good!" he exclaimed at every tap, but -once on trail he shook his head. "May go in a month; -can't last six. Be prepared."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A fiery sunset was staining the western sky when, on -his way back from Lone Tree, Carter stopped at Bender's -door. The glow tinged the furious cloud that rose -from the Cougar's pipe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doing well," he laconically answered. "Never saw -a gal pull round better from a fainting spell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nodding comprehension, Carter mentioned a doubt -that had nettled him on the trail. "Jed? Do you -think he'll—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sudden ferocity flamed up in the Cougar's face. "I -tended to him this morning," he said, slowly, ominously. -"He's persuaded as he mistook the girl's symptoms. -Anyway, he ain't agoing to foul his own nest so long as -no one knows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wants her back, I suppose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Cougar nodded. "She's worth more to him than -his best ox-team. But he ain't agoing to get her. -Don't go! Miss Morrill's inside an' wants to run over -home for some things. Fine gal that." The Cougar's -set fierceness of face almost thawed as he delivered his -opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Driving homeward, Helen opened the subject just -where the Cougar had left it. "She won't go back to -her father," she said, "and I don't blame her. But she -can't stay here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Jenny's future was already provided. -"You needn't to worry," Carter said. "The doctor's -fixed things. He and his wife have neither chick nor -child of their own; they'll take her in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl exclaimed her surprised gladness. To her, -indeed, the entire incident was a revelation. Here three -rough frontiersmen had banded successfully together to -protect a wronged child and keep her within their rough -social pale. Through all they had exhibited a tact and -delicacy not always found in finer social stratas, and -the lesson went far in modifying certain caste ideas—would -have gone farther could she have known the fulness -of their delicacy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only once was the cause of Jenny's illness ever hinted -at among the three; that when Carter and Bender lay -waiting for the doctor in the stable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't happen to have made a guess at the -man?" Carter had asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She hain't mentioned him," the giant answered, a -little stiffly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he thawed when Carter answered: "You'll pardon -me. I was just wondering if a rope might help her -case."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender had shaken his head. "Las' year, you'll -remember, one of Molyneux's remittance-men uster drive -her out while Jed had her hired out to Leslie's. But -he's gone back to England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also Helen had learned to look beneath Bender's -scarred surface. Every day, while Jenny lay in his -shanty, he would slip in between loads of hay to see -her. At first the presence of so much femininity -embarrassed him. One petticoat hanging on the wall while -another floats over the floor is enough to upset any -bachelor. Only when sitting with Jenny did he find -his tongue; then, giant of the camps, he prattled like a -school-boy, freeing thoughts and feelings that had been -imprisoned through all his savage years. It was -singularly strange, too, to see how Jenny reciprocated his -feelings. She liked Helen, but all of her petting could -not bring the smile that came for Bender, in whom she -sensed a kindred shy simplicity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen was to get yet one other light from these -unpromising surfaces, a light bright as those of Scripture -which are said to shine as lamps to the feet. A few -days after Jenny's departure Bender rode up to the -door where Carter sat talking with Morrill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Got any stock to sell?" he inquired. "Cows in calf?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Going in for butter-making?" Carter inquired, grinning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nope!" The giant laughed. "'Tain't for myself -I'm asking. I'm a lumberman born an' bred; the -camps draw me like salt-licks pull the deer. I'd never -have time to look after them. Farming's play with me. -On'y I was thinking as it wouldn't be so bad if that little -gal had a head or two of her own growing inter money. -You kin let 'em run with your band summers, an' I'll -put up winter hay for them an' the increase. How are -you, miss?" He nodded as Helen came to the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was her first experience in such free giving, and she -was astonished to see how devoid his manner was of -philanthropic consciousness. Plainly he regarded the -whole affair as very ordinary business. Carter's answer -accentuated the novel impression—"What's the matter -with me contributing them heifers?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Da—beg pardon, miss." Bender blushed. "No you -don't. This is my funeral. But I'm no hawg. Now if -you wanter throw in a couple of calves—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus, without deed, oath, or mortgage, but with a -certainty that none of these forms could afford, did little -Jenny Hines become a young lady of property. The -matter disposed of, Bender called Carter off to the -stable, where, after many mysterious fumblings, he -produced from a package a gorgeous silk kerchief of -rainbow hues.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll give Miss Morrill this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Carter balked, grinning. "Lordy, man; do your -own courting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Say!" the giant ejaculated, shocked. "You don't -reckon she'd take it that way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter judiciously considered the question, and after -mature deliberation replied: "I've seen breach-of-promise -suits swing on less. But I reckon you're safe -enough—if you explain your motive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The giant sighed his relief. "Did you ever give a gal -anything, Carter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I? Enough to stock a farm if 'twas collected."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How'd you go about it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, jes' give it to her. You're bigger'n she is; -kain't hurt you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lordy, I don't know." Bender sighed again. -"It's surprising what them small things kin do to you. -Say, there's a good feller. You take it in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Carter sternly refused, and five minutes later -Bender might have been seen, stern and rigid from the -desperate nature of his enterprise, sitting on one of -Helen's soap-boxes. In the hour he talked with Morrill, -he never once relaxed a death-grip on his hat. His eye -never once strayed towards Helen, and it was late that -evening when she found the kerchief under his box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It speaks well for her that she did not laugh at its -gorgeous colors; and her smile as she scribbled a little -note of thanks that was delivered by Carter was far too -tender for ridicule. Truly she was learning.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-shadow"><span class="bold large">VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SHADOW</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Down a half-mile furrow that gleamed wetly black -against the dull brown of "broken" prairie, Carter -followed his oxen. He was "back-setting," deep-ploughing -the sod that had lain rotting through the summer. -For October, it was hot; an acrid odor, ammoniacal -from his sweating beasts, mingled with the tang of the -soil and the strong hay scent of scorching prairies. -Summer was making a desperate spurt from winter's -chill advance, and, as though realizing it, bird, beast, -insects, as well as men, went busily about their business. -The warm air was freighted with the boom of bees, -vibrated to the whir of darting prairie-chicken, the -yells of distant ploughmen; for, stimulated by an -answer from the railroad gods, the settlers were striving -to add to their wheat acreage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In certain contingencies," the general manager -answered the petition, "we will build through Silver Creek -next summer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Judging by a remark dropped to his third assistant, -"uncertain" would have expressed his meaning more -correctly. "A little hope won't hurt them, and ought -to go a long way in settling up the country. By-the-way, -who signed these statistics? Cummings? That -wasn't the tall Yankee who spoke so well. He never -would have sent in such a jumble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Blissfully ignorant, however, of railroad methods, the -settlers interpreted the guarded answer as an iron -promise. Forgetting Carter's part in getting them a -hearing, Cummings and his fellows plumed themselves -upon their diplomacy, took to themselves the credit—in -which they evidenced the secret malevolence that a -rural community holds against the man who rises above -its intellectual level. Human imperfection is invariable -through the ages. Plebeian Athens ostracised the just -Aristides. Similarly, Silver Creek evidenced its petty -jealousy against its best brains. "Oh, he's too damned -smart!" it exclaimed, whenever Carter was mentioned -for the council, school trustee, or other public office, nor -paused to consider its logic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly, with heavy gaspings, the oxen stopped at the -end of the furrow, and as he sat down on the plough while -they rested, Carter blessed the happy chance that had -caused him to "break" clear down to Morrill's boundary. -Helen sat in the shade of her cabin, thus affording him -delicious glimpses of a scarlet mouth, slightly pursed -over her sewing, a loose curl that glowed like a golden -bar amid the creamy shadows of her neck, the palpitant -life of the feminine figure. Small wonder that he -lingered on that turn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's that warm," he hypocritically remarked, fanning -himself, "those poor critters' tongues are hanging to -their knees."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl bowed to hide her smile. "They always seem -to tire at this end of the field."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Discerning brutes," he answered, nowise nonplussed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke a silence. "It is considered bad manners -to stare."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes?" he cheerfully inquired. "I'll make a note of that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few moments later she remarked, "You have a -poor memory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you for telling. In what way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were staring."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"N-o."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beg your pardon. It takes two to make a stare. -If I keep on looking you in the eye—that's staring. If -I'm looking when you ain't supposed to know -it—that's—that's—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" she prompted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mighty pleasant," he finished, rising.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he moved off she looked curiously after. While -he was talking, some fleeting expression, trick of speech -had recalled him as she first saw him at Lone Tree—a -young man, tall, sunburned, soft of speech, ungrammatical, -and the picture had awakened her to a change in herself. -In this her fourth month in the settlement she felt she -had lost the keen freshness of the stranger's point of -view. She now scarcely noticed his idiom, accent, -grammatical lapses. Oddities of speech and manner that at -first would have provoked surprise or laughter no longer -challenged her attention. If the land's vast rawness still -impressed, she was losing the clarity of first perceptions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was being absorbed; her individuality was slowly -undergoing the inevitable process of addition and -cancellation. How dim, indefinite the past already seemed. -Some other girl might have lived it, gone through the -round of parties, balls, associated with the well-groomed -men, refined girls of her acquaintance. How vivid, -concrete was the present! She contemplated her hands, -roughened by dish-washing. Did it foretell her future? -Would this equilibration with environment end by -leaving her peer of the gaunt, labor-stricken women of the -settlements? She shuddered. The thought stamped -her mood so that, returning on the other round, Carter -passed on, thinking her offended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why so grave, sis?" Her brother smiled down upon -her from the doorway. Since her arrival he had had -many ups and downs, alternating between bed-fast and -apparent convalescence. To-day the fires of life would -flare high, to flicker down to-morrow like a guttering -candle that wastes the quicker to its end. Not for the -world would she increase his anxiety with her foreboding. -Hiding the dejection with a quick smile, she turned -his question with another.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bert, why does Mr. Carter dislike Captain Molyneux, -the Leslies, and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The English crowd in general?" he finished for her. -"Does he? I never heard him say much against them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, he's one of your silent men. But actions count -more than words. When he drives me to or from -Leslies' he invariably refuses the invitation to come in, -pleading hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he has been pretty busy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill stated a fact. Carter had spent the haying -months in the forest sloughs, where they cut the bulk -of their fodder. There, with the deep woods smothering -every errant breeze, mercury at a hundred, the fat -marsh sweating underfoot, he had moved, raked, or -pitched while sand-flies took toll of his flesh by day and -mosquitoes converted his homeward journey into a feast -of blood. Eighty head of cattle, his and Merrill's, had -to be provided for, and he alone to do it. And it was -from these heavy labors that he had stolen time to drive -Helen back and forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But he repels their every attempt at friendliness!" -she protested. "Positively snubbed Captain Molyneux -the other day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill laughed. "Why do they persist in their overtures? -Carter is flesh and blood of the frontier, which -makes no bones over its likes and dislikes. With him a -friend is a friend. He has no use for civilization which -calls upon its votaries to spread their friendship in a -thin veneer over a vast acquaintance. Having, -courteously enough, intimated that he doesn't desire closer -acquaintance, he expects them to heed the hint. Failing, -they may expect to have it stated in stronger terms. -Molyneux has lived long enough in the north to know -that." His answer, however, simply completed the -circle and brought them back to the starting-point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She restated the issue. "But why doesn't he like them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill answered her question with another. "Why -do you like them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are nice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Leslie?" he catechised.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A trifle frivolous, perhaps, but—I like her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leslie, Danvers, Poole, and the rest of them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Impractical," she admitted, "thoroughly impractical, -all but Captain Molyneux. His farm is a model. -Yet—I like them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke musingly, as though examining her feelings -for cause, analysis of which would have shown that the -wide differences between herself and her new acquaintances -had added to the glamour and sparkle which are -given off by fresh personalities. She liked their -refinement, courtesy, subtleties, and grace of conduct which -shone the brighter in that rough setting. To her their -very speech was charming, with its broad vowels, -leisurely drawled, so much softer than the clipped -American idiom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were, indeed, over-refined. Five centuries ago -the welding of Celt, Saxon, Roman, Norman into one -homogeneous whole was full and complete; since then -that potent mixture of blood had undergone slow stagnation. -Noble privilege and laws of entail had checked -in the motherland those selective processes which sweep -the foolish, wicked, and vicious from the face of the -earth. Protected by the aristocratic system, the fool, -the idler, the roué had handed their undesirableness -down the generations, a heavy mortgage on posterity. -Ripe fruit of a vicious system, decay had touched them -at the core; last links of a chain once strong, they had -lacked the hot hammering from grim circumstance that -alone could make them fit to hold and bind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill laid his thin finger on the spot. "All right, -Nell, they are harmless." He laughed as he used the -scornful term which the Canadian settlers applied to -their English neighbors. "You must have some company. -I don't dislike them myself, and would probably -like them better if it was not for their insufferable -national conceit and blind caste feeling. They look -with huge contempt on all persons and things which -cannot claim origin in the narrow bit of English society -from which they sprang. I'm not denying their -country's greatness. But, like the Buddhist, lost in -contemplation of his own navel, they have turned their -eyes inward till they're blind to all else. On we -Americans they are particularly hard, regarding us with the -easy tolerance that one may extend to the imperfections -of an anthropoid ape. Now don't fire up! They have -always been nice to me. Still I can feel the superiority -beneath the surface. With Carter it is different. Him -they classify with the Canadian settlers, and you may -fancy the effect on a man who, in skill of hands and -brain, character, all the things that count in life, stands -waist-high above them. He sees them cheated, cozened -by every shyster. Men in years, they are children in -experience, and if help from home were withdrawn not -one could stand on his own legs. They are the -trimmings of their generation, encumbrances on the family -estate or fortune, useless timber lopped off from the -genealogical tree. Do you wonder that he despises them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," she said, after a thoughtful pause, "that -he is too stern in his judgments. Impracticability isn't -a crime, Bert, and people ought not to be blamed for -the conditions that made them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, little wisehead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He ought," she went on, "to be more friendly. I'm -sure Mrs. Leslie likes him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill smothered a laugh. "Carter's a mighty -handsome man, young lady, and Mrs. Leslie is—a shade -impressionable. But in social affairs women decide on -women, men on men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She nodded, puckering her brow. "Yes, but he -behaved dreadfully to Captain Molyneux."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her genuine distress prevented the laugh from -escaping. "Tell me about it," he sympathized.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was the other evening when he came to drive me -home. Despite his reserve, the younger boys all like -him, and when Captain Molyneux brought me out he -was telling Mr. Poole and Mr. Rhodes about a horse -that Danvers had bought from Cummings. 'The critter,' -Carter said, 'is blind, spavined, sweenied, and old -enough to homestead.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Well,' the captain added, 'Danvers has always -needed a guardian, Mr. Carter.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In his patronizing way?" Morrill commented.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A little, perhaps," she admitted. "Then, looking -straight at us, Carter answered, 'He could have picked -a worse.' What did he mean, Bert? The captain -reddened and the boys looked silly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Morrill grinned. "Well—you see, Nell, Molyneux's -income is mostly derived from the farming of pupils -who are apprenticed to him by a firm of London lawyers -while under the impression that colonial farming is a -complex business that requires years of study. Having -whacked up from five hundred to five thousand dollars -premium, they find, on arrival, that they have simply -paid for the privilege of doing ordinary farm work. -You said Molyneux's place was a model. No wonder, -when he draws pay where other men have to hire. No, -the business isn't exactly dishonorable!" He anticipated -her question. "He does teach them something, and -prevents them from falling into the hands of Canuck -shysters who would bleed them for hundreds when he -takes fifties. But—well, it isn't a business I'd care to -be in. But there! I've talked myself tired, and -Molyneux is coming at three to drive you up to Leslie's. -You have just half an hour to dress."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I won't go," she protested, "if you're not feeling -well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bosh!" he laughed. "I'm dying to be rid of you. -Expect to get quiet sleep this afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as, half an hour later, he watched her drive away, -his face darkened, and he muttered: "This will never -do. She can't settle down to this life. Just as soon—" A -fit of coughing left him gasping; but, under the -merciful hallucination that attends consumption, he finished, -"I'll sell out as soon as I'm rid of this cough and go -back to the law."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter also watched her go. As, dank with sweat, -grimed with dust and labor, he "geed" his oxen around -the "land," she went by, a flutter of billowy white, -deliciously dainty, cool, and clean. The contrast -emphasized the difference between them so strongly that a -sudden feeling of bitter hopelessness caused him to -return only a stern nod to her bow and smile. Surprised, -she looked back, and gleaning, perhaps, an intuition of -his feeling from the dogged set of his face and figure, -she was swept with sudden pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a mile she was quiet; but while the sun shines -youth may not hobnob with care, and that was a -perfect day. Autumn's crimsons mottled the tawny -prairies; waves of sunshine chased one another over the -brown grasses to the distant forest line; and as, with -cheerful clatter of pole and harness, the buggy dipped, -swallow-like, over the long earth rolls, her spirits rose. -She laughed, chatted, within five miles was involved in -a mild flirtation. That was wicked! Of course! -Afterwards, in private, she mortified the strain of coquetry -that made such shame possible. Yet it was very -natural. Given a handsome man, a pretty maid, and -isolation, what else should follow? Molyneux had travelled -in far countries and talked well of them and their savage -peoples. He knew London, the Mecca of womankind, -like a book; abounded in anecdotes of people and places -that had been awesome names to her. Also he was -skilled in subtle flattery, never exceeding by a -hair's-breadth the amount which her vanity—of which she -had a pretty woman's rightful share—could easily -assimilate. Small wonder if she forgot the grim figure at the -ploughtail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Forgetfulness, however, was not for Carter. As he -followed the steady rhythm of his furrows in heat and -dust, heavy thought now loosened, now tightened the -corners of his mouth. But bitterness did not hold him -long.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Baby! You are going to get her. But that ain't -the way to play the game," he said, as the buggy -disappeared. And she saw only friendliness in his smile on -her return that evening and the score of other occasions -on which he watched her goings and comings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He "played his game" like a man, and with a masterly -hand. Never obtrusive, he was always kind, cheerful, -hopefully sympathetic during Merrill's bad spells. At -other times his dry humor kept her laughing. He was -always helpful. When the snows blanketed the prairies -he instructed her in the shifts of winter housekeeping—how -to keep the cabin snug when the blizzard walled it -in fleecy cloud; how to keep the frost out of the cellar -and from the small stock of fruits in the pantry. -Together they "froze down" a supply of milk against the -time when it would be cruel to keep cows milking. A -night's frost transmuted her pans of milk into oval -cakes, which he piled out-doors like cordwood. A milk -pile! The snows soon covered it, and how she laughed -when, drawing home wood from the forest, he mistook -the pile for a drift and so upset his load.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed, he wrought well! Kindliness, good temper, -consideration, these are splendid bases for love. Not -that he ever hinted his hope. He was far too shrewdly -circumspect. It speaks for the quality of his wit that -he recognized that, given differences in rank and station, -love must steal upon her from ambush. Startled, she -would fly behind ramparts that would be proof against -the small god's sharpest arrows. So he was very careful, -masking his feeling under a gentle imperturbability; -sure that, if not alarmed, she must turn to him in the -coming time of trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For Morrill had steadily failed since winter set in. -During the Christmas week he rallied, recovered voice -and color, improved so much that Helen yielded to his -wish for her to attend a New Year's party at Mrs. Leslie's; -and as she kissed him good-bye there was nothing -to indicate that this was but the last flash, the leaping -flame which precedes the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A genuine frontier party, it was to be an all-day affair, -and Carter drove her up in the morning. New Year had -broken beautifully: clear, bright, almost warm; for the -first time in a month the mercury had thawed long -enough to register twenty-eight below. There had been -no wind or drift for a week, so the trail was packed hard, -and as the ponies swept its curves, balancing the cutter -on one or the other runner, rapid motion joined with -pleasurable anticipation to raise the girl's spirits to the -point of repentance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here I'm laughing and chatting," she said, soberly, -"when I ought to be home with Bert."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!" Carter glanced approvingly upon the -glow which the keen air had brought to her cheeks. -"You haven't been out for a month, and you were -getting that pale and peaked. I shall be with him. Now -you just go in for a good time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His generous solicitude for her happiness, for she was -going among people he did not like, touched her. "I -wish you were coming," she said. Then she added, -"Won't you come in—just for a little while—if -Mrs. Leslie asks you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He returned her coaxing smile. "I'll see." And as -the men were all away, clearing a slough for skating, -he stayed long enough to drink a toast with Mrs. Leslie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That lady's eyes shone with soft approval as, standing -by the table that was already spread with glass, -silver, and white napery, he bowed. "To your continued -health and beauty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now wasn't that pretty?" she exclaimed, after he -was gone. "Do you know, standing there in his furs, -so tall and strong, he reminded me of one of those old -Norsemen who sometimes strayed into degenerate -southern courts. You are happy in your cavalier, my dear. -If he asked me, I believe I'd run away with him." And -there was a sigh in her laugh. For though a good fellow, -Leslie was prodigiously chuckle-headed, and she had -moods when his simple foolishness was as unbearable as -her own frivolity—dangerous moods for a woman of her -light timber.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish," she added, a little later, "that we could -have persuaded him to stay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew better. Striding, a conqueror, into southern -halls, the Norseman cut a mighty figure where he would -have made but a poor appearance as an invited guest. -A thought that was expressed in Carter's meditation on -the homeward drive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She meant it, shorely! But, bless her! you ain't to -be drawn into such a brace game. You'd look nice -among those dudes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had left no fire in his cabin, but he was not -surprised when, afar off, he saw his stove-pipe flinging a -banner of smoke to the crystal air. As yet the northland -had not achieved refinements in the shape of locks -and bolts, and, coming in from a forty-mile drive from -a Cree village, Father Francis, the priest of the -Assiniboin mission, had put in and brewed a jug of tea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Easy, courteous in bearing, upright despite his silvered -years, the priest came to the door and welcomed Carter -home. "Not much travel beyond the settlements," he -said. "It was pretty heavy going and my ponies are -tired. So I'll just accept the old invitation, son, and -stay the night—that is"—his mellow laugh rang -out—"if my presence won't make you anathema maranatha -unto your neighbors."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter knew them, their rigid dogmatism, the bigotry -which made them look askance at this man who, for -thirty years, had fought the devil over the face of a -parish as big as an Eastern State.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't allow that they'll more than excommunicate -me," he grinned, "and if they do I reckon that you'd -drop the bars of your fold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gladly!" the priest laughed. "They are always -down, son." So, seated by the humming stove with the -jug steaming between them, the two settled down to -exchange the news of the neighborhood—an elastic term -that stretched over territory enough to set an Old-World -kingdom up in business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was strange gossip. To the north of them—and -not very far at that; old Fort Pelly lay within twenty -miles—the Hudson Bay Company, the oldest of chartered -traders, still lorded it over the tribes. In dark woods, -on open prairies stood the forts with their storehouses, -fur lofts waiting groups of Indians. There Factor, -Clerk, the Bois Brulés still lived and loved in the -primitive fashion, careless of the settlement, first wave of -civilization that was lipping around their borders. So -the talk ran on fur packs, mishaps by trail or river, -sinister doings in the far north, where the aftermath -of the Metis rebellion was still simmering. A wild -budget! What between it and Carter's choring, dark was -settling as he and the priest entered Morrill's cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both started at what they saw. Despite Carter's -optimism in Helen's presence, he had been fully alive -to Morrill's condition, yet—he now stood, shocked, -grieved in the presence of the expected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sick man was wellnigh spent, yet the stroke of -death brought only a spark from his iron courage. -"Another hemorrhage!" he whispered. "Shortly after -you left. No, don't go for Helen. She gets so little -pleasure. It is all over. I'll be all right to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> all over—though it would be "right" -on the morrow. The rising moon saw Carter's ponies -scouring the ghostly snows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been a jolly party, skating in the afternoon, -music and dancing in the evening; then, as reserve -thawed under the prolonged association, they had fallen -to playing Christmas games. Forfeits were being -"declared" as Carter reined in at the door, and Mrs. Leslie's -merry tones fell like blasphemy upon his ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine or superfine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Superfine? Then that must be Helen! Captain -Molyneux will—" The penalty was drowned in uproar, -which also smothered his knock. Followed loud laughter, -and the door quivered under the impact of struggling -bodies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't—please!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, under Christmas license no girl is particularly -averse to being kissed, and had Molyneux gone a little -more gently about it, Helen had probably offered no -more than the conventional resistance. But when he -forced her head back so that her lips would come up to -his with all the abandon of lovers, she broke his grip, -and when pinned again against the door, struggled madly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no mistaking her accent. A flame of -anger, leaping, confusing, blinded Carter. His every -muscle contorted. From his unconscious pressure, hasp and -handle flew from the door; as Mrs. Leslie shrieked her -surprise, his hand dropped on Helen's shoulder, and -from that small leverage his elbow sent Molyneux -staggering back to the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The action cleared his brain, calmed the great muscles -that quivered under his furs with primordial impulse to -break and tear. The flush faded from his tan, the flash -from his eye. The hasp lay on the floor with the -handle he had forgotten to turn. He saw neither them nor -the guests in their postures of uneasy astonishment. -Before his mental vision rose the scene he had just left, -the priest kneeling in prayer beside a dying man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The reaction of his shove had thrown Helen in against -him, and her touch recalled his mission. "Your -brother—" he began, then paused. He had meant to break -it gently, but the confusion of conflicting emotions left -him nothing but the fact. "Is—" he went on, then, -appalled by a sudden sense of the ruthlessness of it, he -stopped. But, reading the truth in his eyes, she -collapsed on his arm.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>To Carter, waiting outside in the moonlight for Helen, -came Molyneux, and the door closing behind him shut -in the hum of wonder and the sobbing that came from -the bedroom where the women were putting on their wraps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux was smoking, though, to give him his due, -he did not require that invaluable aid to a cool bearing. -Regarding the spirals, curling sharply blue in the -moonlight, he remarked, "I don't quite understand your -methods, my friend." The insolence of the "my friend" -is indescribable. "It may be fashionable in Stump town -to announce bad news by breaking down a gentleman's -door, but with us—it savors of roughness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Roughness?</em><span>" Carter scrutinized the dim horizon. -"It wasn't all on one side of the door—</span><em class="italics">my friend</em><span>." His -mimicry was perfect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The captain hummed, cleared his throat. "A little -Christmas foolery—perfectly allowable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's gaze shifted to the nimbus about the moon, -a clear storm warning. "Foolery becomes roughness -when it ain't agreeable to both parties."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who told you it wasn't?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My ear. If yours didn't—it needs training."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux smoked out a pause that perhaps covered a -slight confusion. "Well, I don't care to accept you for -a music-master. Under the distressing circumstances, -I shall have to let it pass—for the present. But I shall -not forget."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter smiled at the moon. "Looks like storm?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="mr-flynn-steps-into-the-breach"><span class="bold large">VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MR. FLYNN STEPS INTO THE BREACH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After putting forth a feeble straggle on the morning -of the funeral, the pale winter sun retired for -good as the north wind began to herd the drift over -vast white steppes. Though fire had been kept up all -night in Merrill's cabin by Mrs. Flynn, who had come -in to perform the last offices, a pail of water had frozen -solid close to the stove. After a quarter of an hour in -the oven, a loaf of bread yet showed frost crystals in its -centre at breakfast; a drop of coffee congealed as it fell -in the saucer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was, indeed, the hardest of weather. By noon a -half-inch of ice levelled the window-panes with the sash; -pouring through the key-hole a spume of fine drift laid -a white finger across the floor. Outside, the spirit -thermometer registered forty-five below. The very air was -frozen, blanketing the snow with lurid frost clouds. -Yet, though a pair of iridescent "sun-dogs" gave storm -warnings, a score of Canadian settlers, men and women, -assembled for the service in the cabin. Severe, silent, -they sat around on boards and boxes, eying Mrs. Leslie -and other English neighbors with great disfavor, -inwardly critical of the funeral arrangements. For -ceremony and service had been stripped of the lugubrious -attributes which gave mournful satisfaction to the -primitive mind. Helen herself, in her quiet grief, was -a disappointment; and she wore no black or other -grievous emblem. Worse! The casket-lid was screwed -down, and, filched of their prerogative of "viewing the -corpse," they turned gloomy faces to the theological -student who had come out from Lone Tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here was an additional disappointment. Afterwards, -in the stable, it was held that he had not improved the -occasion. Of Morrill, who had been so lax in his -attendance at occasional preachings as to justify a suspicion -of atheism, he could have made an edifying text, thrilling -his hearers with doubts as to whether the man was -altogether fallen short of grace. But there was none of -this. Just a word on the brother's sunny nature and -brave fight against wasting sickness, and he was passed -without doubt of title to mansions in the skies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't call that no sermon," Hines growled, as he -thrust a frosty bit into his pony's mouth. "Missed all -the good points, he did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never heerd the like," said Shinn, his neighbor, -nearest in disposition as well as location. "Not a bit -of crape for the pall-bearers. I know a person that -ain't going to be missed much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've heerd," another man said, "as he doubted the -Scriptures. If that is so—Is it true as the Roman -priest was with him at the last?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines despondently nodded. "We'll hope for the -best," he said, with an accent that murdered the hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shinn, however, who never could compass the art of -suggestion, gave plainer terms to his thought. "There -ain't a doubt in my mind. It's a warning to turn from -the paths he trod."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You needn't be scairt." From the gloom of the far -corner, where he was harnessing the team that was to -draw the burial sleigh, Bender's voice issued. "You -needn't be scairt. There ain't a damn one of you -travelling his trail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ensued a silence, then Hines snarled, "No, an' I ain't -agoing to follow him on this. If you fellows want to -tag after priests' leavings, you kin. I'm pulling my -freight for home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines quailed as Bender's huge body and blue-scarred -face materialized from the gloom. "I said as 'twas too -cold to go to the grave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did, eh? Well, you're going. Not that your -presence is necessary, but just because you ain't to be -allowed to show disrespect to a better man than -yourself. Tie up that hoss. You're agoing to ride with -me. An' if there's any other man as thinks his team -ain't fit to buck the drifts"—his fierce eyes searched -for opposition—"he'll find room in my sleigh."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So with Hines—albeit much against his will—heading -the procession, a long line of sleighs sped through the -mirk drift to the lonely acre which had been set apart -for the </span><em class="italics">long</em><span> sleep. A few posts and a single wire -marked it off from white wastes, and through these the drift -flew with sibilant hiss, piling against the mounded grave -which Flynn and Carter had thawed out and dug, inch -by inch, with many fires, these last two days. And there -was small ceremony. King Frost is no respecter of -persons, freezes alike the quick and the dead. Removing -his cap to offer a short prayer, the student's ears turned -deathly white; while he rubbed them with snow, the -mourners spelled one another with the shovels, working -furiously in vain efforts to warm chilled blood. Roughly -filled, the grave was left to be smoothed in warmer -season; the living fled, leaving the dead with the drift, the -frost, the wind, stern ministers of the illimitable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No woman had dared the weather. Lying in the -bottom of a sled, under hides and blankets, with hot -stones at hands and feet, Helen had gone home with -Mrs. Leslie. Coming back from the grave she formed -the subject of conversation between Flynn and Carter, -who rode together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To Flynn's inquiry Carter replied that, as far as he -was aware, she had no private means. Her father, a -physician in good practice in a New England town, had -lived up to every cent of his income, and the insurance -he carried had been mortgaged to start the brother out -West.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not having any special training," Carter finished, -"she had to choose between a place in a store or -keeping house for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's no snap in them sthores," Flynn sighed. "Shmall -pay an' big temptations, they're telling me." Then, -giving Carter the tail of his eye, he added, "But there'll -be nothing else for it—now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know," Carter mused. "Flynn, are you -and the other married folks around here going to let -your families grow up in ignorance? Ain't it pretty -nigh time you was forming a school district?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the slit between his cap and scarf the Irishman's -eyes twinkled like blue jewels. Affecting ignorance, -however, he answered, "An' phwere would we be after -getting a teacher in this frozen country?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Morrill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flynn subdued his laugh out of respect to the -occasion. "Jest what's in me own mind. An' there'll be -no lack av children for the same school, me boy, when -you—There, don't be looking mad! 'Tis after the -order of nature; an' I'm not blaming ye, she's sweet -as she's pretty. Putting you an' me out av the -question, I'd do it for her. An' it shouldn't be so -hard—if we can corral the bachelors. But lave thim to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Flynn went about it with all the political sagacity -inherent in his race. "We'll not be spreading the -news much," he told the married men to whom he broached -the subject. "Not a word till we get 'em in meeting, -or they'll organize an' vote us down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accordingly the summons to gather in public meeting -was issued without statement of purpose, a mystery -that brought out every settler for twenty miles around. -An hour before time, some fifty men, rough-looking -fellows in furs, arctic socks, moose-skins, and -moccasins, crowded into the post-office, which, as most -centrally located, was chosen for the meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The expected opposition developed as soon as the -postmaster, who presided, mentioned "eddycation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More taxation!" a bachelor roared. "You're to -marry the girls an' we're to eddycate the kids!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Right you are, Pete!" others chorused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Flynn was ready. "Is that you, Pete Ross?" He -transfixed the speaker with his blue twinkle. "An' -yerself coorting the Brown girl so desprit that she don't -get time to comb her hair anny more?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' you, Bill MacCloud," he went on, as Peter, -growling that he "wasn't married yet," carried his -blushing face behind the stove, "you that's galloping -your ponies so hard after the Baker girl. Twins it was, -twice running, in her mother's family, an' well ye know -it. A public school ain't good enough for you, Bill? -Which is to be—a governess, or a young ladies' -siminery?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, one after another, Flynn smote the bachelors. -Had a man so much as winked at a girl, it made a text -for a sermon that was witty as </span><em class="italics">risque</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet he was so good-tempered about it that by the -time he had finished grilling the last victim the -first-cooked were joining their laughter to that of the -married men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Flynn turned his eloquence upon a common -evil. Everywhere the best of the land had passed into -the hands of non-resident speculators, who hindered -settlement and development by holding for high prices. -"Was it a question of increased taxation?" Flynn asked. -Then let the non-residents pay. Under the law they -could expend eight hundred dollars on a building. Well, -they would distribute the contracts among themselves—one -man cut logs, another hew them, a third draw them, -and so on! Every man should have a contract, an' who -the divil would care if taxes were raised on the -speculators.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was his closing argument, however, that finished -the bachelors. "Now me an' Jimmy have spotted a -teacher, a right smart young woman—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A howl of applause cut him short—the bachelors -would call it settled!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus it came to pass that as, a week or so after the -funeral, Carter was driving Helen from Leslie's back to -her cabin, a deputation consisting of Mr. Flynn and -Mr. Glaves was heading in the same direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that week the cabin had stood, fireless, a mournful -blot on the snowscape, but though she was only to be -there for the hour required to pack her belongings, -Carter had swept out the drift that morning and put on -the fires. So the place was cosey and warm. Yet, with -all its cheer, on entering, she relapsed into the first -passionate grief. For nothing is so vividly alive as the -things of a dead person, and everywhere her glance fell -on objects her brother had used. Divining the cause, -Carter left her to have her cry out on pretence of stable -chores, and when he returned she was busily packing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So while she worked he talked, explaining her affairs -as related to himself through his partnership with -Morrill. Their cattle were worth so much, but as it -would require a summer's grazing to fit them for -market, he would advance the money on her share. He -did not mention the fact that he would have to borrow -it himself at usurer's interest. As to the homestead: -Land was unsalable since the bottom fell out of the -boom, but in any case it was advisable to hold for the -values that would accrue with the coming of the railroad. -He would rent it, on settler's terms, paying roadwork -and taxes for use of the broken land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As, kindly thoughtful for her interests, he ran on, -she rose from her packing, grasped his hand impulsively, -squeezed his arm to her bosom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have been so good!" The sunsets in her cheeks, -the softness of her glance, her touch, almost upset his -reason. But he resisted a mad impulse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!" he said, when he could trust himself to -speak. "I'm going to make money off you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really?" she asked, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really," he smiled back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—wish you could," she sighed. "But I am afraid -you are saying that to please me. Well, you know best. -Do as you please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had he done as he pleased, the question of their mutual -interests would have been simply solved. But the time -was not ripe. He was too shrewd to mistake gratitude -for love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," he said, resolutely thrusting away temptation, -"if it's any of my darn business—what are your plans?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My plans?" Leaning on the table beside him, she -gazed dreamily upon the frosted panes. The question -forced in upon her the imminence of impending change -and brought a feeling of strong revulsion. The ties that -death forges are stronger than those of life. It was -inexpressibly painful, just then, to think of leaving the -land which held her recent dead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My plans!" she mused, knitting her brows. "I -haven't any—yet. Of course I have relatives, back -East. But as father did not like them, I hardly know -more than their names. I shall have to do something, -but Mrs. Leslie is so good. She won't hear of me leaving -until spring. I have heaps of time to plan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But having bucked trail all morning, the solution of -her immediate future just then heralded its arrival by -the groan of frosty runners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Me an' Jimmy," Mr. Flynn explained, after he had -introduced his co-trustee, "is a depytation. Being as -it's the only crop the frost won't nip, Silver Creek is -going to raise a few legislators. We want the young -lady to teach our school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But," Helen objected, when she had assimilated the -startling news, "I never taught school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll nivir begin younger," Flynn comforted; to -which he added, "An' it's the foinest training agin the -time ye'll have a few av your own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Glaves solemnly contemplated the blushing -candidate. "You kin sum, ma'am—an' spell?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes," she assured him. "I graduated from high-school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't say!" Both trustees regarded her with -intense admiration, and Glaves said, "We didn't expect -to get that much for our money, so we'll jest have you -go a bit easy at first, lest there'll be some sprained -intellec's among the kiddies."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="when-april-smiled-again"><span class="bold large">VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WHEN APRIL SMILED AGAIN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"We'll begin right soon on the building," Mr. Glaves -had said at parting. So when the mercury -began to take occasional flights above zero in the last -days of February, a gang turned loose in the bush. -For two weeks thereafter falling trees and the bell-like -tinkle of a broadaxe disturbed the forest silence. Then -spring rode in on the back of a Chinook wind and caught -them hauling. Ensued profanity. Thawing quickly, -the loose snows slid away from the packed trails, causing -the sleds to "cut off"; the bush road was mottled with -overturned loads. Also the brilliant sun turned the -snowscape into one huge reflector. Faces frizzled. -Dark men took the colors of raw beefsteak, fair men -peeled and cracked like over-ripe tomatoes. Yet they -persisted, and one day in early April stood off to look -on their finished work. "Chinked," sod-roofed, -plastered, the log school-house gleamed yellow under the -rays of the dying sun—education, the forerunner of -civilization, had settled in the land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As his cabin was nearest the school, the honor of -boarding the teacher fell to the postmaster; and though -her choice caused heart-burnings among others who -had coveted the distinction, it was conceded wise. For -not only did the Glaves's establishment boast the only -partitioned room in the Canadian settlement, but his -wife, a tall, gaunt woman, excelled in the concoction of -carrot-jams, turnip-pies, choke-cherry jellies, and other -devices by which skilled housewives eke out the -resources of an inhospitable land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the middle of April school opened; a dozen small -thirsters after knowledge arranged themselves in demure -quiethood before authority that was possessed of its -own misgivings. Teacher and scholars regarded one -another with secret awe. But this soon wore off and they -toiled amicably along the road which winds among -arithmetical pitfalls and grammatical bogs to academic -glories. It was milestoned by deputations, that road, -said visitations generally consisting of one -person—mostly unmarried and very red in the face—who -inquired if the "kids was minding their book," then went -off chuckling at his own hardihood. Also it seemed as -though all the stray cattle for fifty miles around headed -for the school. Helen grew quite expert in ringing -variations on the fact that she "had not seen a -strawberry steer with a white patch on the left flank." Her -smile always accompanied the answer, and the owners -of the hypothetical estrays would carry away a vision of -a golden and glorified school-ma'am. What of these -pleasant interests, and an unexpected liking which she -had developed for the work itself, she became very -happy in a quiet way as time dulled the edge of her sorrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But during the three months that preceded school -opening the fates had not been idle. Attending strictly -to their knitting, they had run a tangled woof in and -out the warp of several lives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's so good!" Helen had exclaimed, in her gratitude -of Mrs. Leslie; but analysis of that lady's motives -would have shown them not altogether disinterested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Excluding a certain absence of principle that was -organic, and therefore hardly chargeable against her -till philosophers answer the question, "Can the leopard -change his spots or the Ethiop his skin?" Mrs. Leslie -was not fundamentally vicious. Like the average of -men and women, she would have preferred to have been -good, and, given a husband whom she feared and loved, -she might have developed into a small Puritan mightily -jealous for their mutual prestige. Lacking this, -however, she was as a straw in a corner, ready to rise at -the first wind puff. If, so far, she had lived in the fear -of Mrs. Grundy, her conformity inhered in two causes—no -man in her own set had stirred her nature, and, till -Helen came, the winds of Opportunity had blown away -from Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What drew her to him she herself could hardly have -said; and if the cause is to be found outside of the -peculiar texture of her own nature, it must be in the -natural law which makes opposites attract. Nature -wars incessantly against the stratification which -precedes social decay. Whether of blood or water, she -abhors stagnation. Her torrential floods cleanse the -backwaters of languid streams; passionate impulses, such -as Mrs. Leslie's, provide for the injection into worn-out -strains of the rich corpuscles that bubble from the soil. -Carter's virile masculinity, contrasting so strongly with -the amiable effeminacy of her own set, therefore attracted -Mrs. Leslie, and, having now lassoed Opportunity—in -the shape of Helen—she hitched the willing beast and -drove him tandem with inclination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Either by intuition or knowledge subtly wormed from -himself or others, she learned Carter's habits, and no -matter the direction of the drives which she and Helen -took together, it was pure accident if they did not come -in touch with him. Also at intervals they called at his -cabin, after one of which visits Mrs. Leslie put the -house-cleaning idea into Helen's head, insinuating it so -cleverly that the girl actually thought that it originated -with herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you </span><em class="italics">ever</em><span> see anything </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> untidy?" she exclaimed, -as on that occasion they drove homeward. "Harness, -cooking-pots, provisions, all in a tangle. Bachelors are -such grubby creatures! But really, my dear, he deserves -to be comfortable. Couldn't we do something?—hire -some one to—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If she had counted on the girl's grateful enthusiasm, -it did not fail her. "Let's do it ourselves!" she -exclaimed. "I'd love to!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, in Carter's absence, the two descended upon the -cabin with soap, pails, and hot water. Mrs. Leslie, the -delicate, white-armed woman who kept a girl to do her -own work, rolled up her sleeves and fell to work like a -charwoman; and it is doubtful if she were ever happier -than while thus expending, in service, her reserve of -illegal feeling. There was, indeed, something pitiful in -her tender energy. When, the cleaning done, she sat -demurely mending a rent in Carter's coat, she might -have been the young wife of her imaginings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her sentimental expression moved Helen to laughter. -"You look </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> domestic!" she tittered. "So soft and -contemplative. One would think—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie was too clever for transparent denial. -"I don't care," she answered. "I like him. He's -awfully dear." And her expressed preference affected -Helen—helped to break down the last barriers of caste -feeling between herself and Carter. Till then she had -always maintained a slight reserve towards him, but -when, coming in unexpectedly, he caught them at their -labors, she was as free and frank with him as she had -ever been with a man of her old set. The change -expressed itself in her hand-shake at parting, though it fell -far short of Mrs. Leslie's lingering pressure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his surprise at the quantity and quality of the -latter, Carter may have returned it, or Mrs. Leslie may -have mistaken the reaction of her own grip for answer. -Anyway, she thought he did, and on the way home plead -weariness as an excuse to indulge luxurious contemplations. -She fed on his every look, tone, accent, coloring -them all with her own feeling, an indulgence for which -she would pay later; indeed, she was even then paying, -in that it was eating away her weak moral fibre as acid -eats a metal, preparing her for greater licenses. At first, -however, she was timorous—content with small touches, -accidental contacts, the physical sense of nearness when, -as often happened, they coaxed him to take them for a -drive behind his famous ponies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But such slight fare could not long suffice for her -growing passion. Having observed, outwardly, the laws -of social morality only because, so far, they had -consorted with inclination; knowing, inwardly, no law but -that of her own pleasure, it was only a question of time -until she would become desperate enough to balance -reputation against indulgence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This came to pass a couple of months after Helen had -opened up school, and would have happened sooner but -that even a reputation cannot be given away without a -bidder. Not that Carter was ignorant or indifferent to -her feeling. Two thousand years have failed to make -man completely monogamous and he is never displeased -at a pretty woman's preference. A condition had -interposed between the fire and the tow. In every man's -life there comes a time when, for the moment, he is -impervious to the call of illicit passion. A first pure -love bucklers him like a shining ægis, and while certain -pure eyes looked out upon Carter from earth, air, and -sky, wherever his fancy strayed, he would not barter a -sigh for the perishable commodity Elinor Leslie offered. -Having, however, formed her judgments of men from -the weak masculinity about her, she could not realize -this. Imagining that he would come at the crook of -her finger, she tried to recapture Opportunity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Carter was so kind and considerate of Helen -that I think we ought to take him up," she said to her -husband one day; and Leslie, whose good-natured -stupidity lent itself to every suggestion, readily agreed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unfortunately for her scheme, Carter proved unfelicitously -blind to his interest—as she saw it. Negatively, -he refused to be "taken up," offering good-natured -excuses to all of Leslie's invitations. So nothing was -left but the occasional opportunities afforded by Helen's -week-end visits. And these did not always lend -themselves to Mrs. Leslie's purpose. When Molyneux brought -her up—as happened half the time—he made full use of -his monopoly; while Carter, in his turn, often drove her -down to see Jenny in Lone Tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To do the young lady justice, she held a fairly even -balance between those, her two cavaliers. According -to the canons of romance she ought to have fallen so -deeply in love with one as to hate the other. Instead -she found herself liking them both.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was, of course, a difference in the quality of her -feeling. Strange feminine paradox! she was drawn to -Molyneux by the opposite of the qualities on which she -based her feeling for Carter. At heart woman is a -reformer, and once convinced of his sincerity towards -herself, the fact that Molyneux was reputed something -of a sinner increased rather than lessened her interest. -She experienced the joys of driving the lion in -leading-strings, ignoring the danger of the beast turning upon -her with rending fangs. Feeling her power, she tried -to exercise it for his good, and felt as virtuous over the -business as if it were not a form of vanity, and a -dangerous one at that. Anyway, she rode and drove with -him so much that spring and summer that she practically -annihilated Mrs. Leslie's chances of seeing Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That lady could, however, and did observe him in -secret. Riding from home while Leslie was busy -seeding, she would make a wide détour, keeping the -lowlands, and so bring up, unobserved, in a poplar clump -that afforded a near view of Carter's fields.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day will example a score of others. It was, as -aforesaid, seeding-time. Stripped of her snowy bodice, -the earth lay as some brown virgin, her bosom bared to -man's wooing and the kisses of the sun and rain. From -her covert Mrs. Leslie could see his ox-team slowly -crawling upon the brown fields which, as yet, had known -no bearing yoke. Those days love was suggested by -everything in nature. The air quivered in passionate -lines down the horizon. Warmth, light, love were -omnipresent. By every slough the mallard brooded. -Overhead the wild goose winged northward to bring forth her -kind on the rim of polar seas. Prairie cocks primped -and ruffled on every knoll before their admiring hens. -To her it seemed that birds and beasts, flesh and fowl -were happier than she in their matings. Passionately, -with bursting sighs, she strained at her chains, wildly -challenging the marriage institution which has slowly -evolved from the travail of a thousand generations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hers was the old struggle between the flesh and the -spirit, the struggle that gave the sexless desert its -hermit population. With this difference: Ancestry had -bequeathed to her no spirit. She had nothing to pit -against the flesh but her own unruly inclination. For -her the battle offered no meed of victory in the form of -chastity triumphant. The "dice of God were loaded"; -she was striving against the record of foolish or vicious -fathers. And she played so hard! At times, little -heathen in spite of her culture, her eyes looked out upon -him from the spring greenery with the tender longing -of a mother deer; again they blazed with baffled fires; -often she threw herself down in a passion of tears. So, -feeding upon its very privations, her distemper waxed -until, one June evening, it burst all bounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Returning through late gloaming with his weekly -mail, Carter came on her holding her horse by the trail. -Her voice, low yet vibrant, issued from the gloom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I shall have to trouble you for a ride, -Mr. Carter; my saddle-girth has burst."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your hand is wet. It's blood!" he exclaimed, as he -handed her in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fell on a sharp stone. Will you please tie this -handkerchief."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bending to comply, he saw that the wound was clean-cut, -and this may have caused him to examine the girth -before he threw the saddle on behind. Then he knew—was -certain as though he had seen her slash it with the -penknife that lay in the scrub near by.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Picking up a stone, he pounded the severed edges on -the wheel-tire; pounded them to a frazzle while she -looked on, her pupils dilated in the half light, large, soft, -black as velvet, intensifying a curious mixture of -expectation and content. But if she read consent in the -pains he was at with her excuse, alarmed surprise -displaced expectation when, climbing in, he drove on -without a word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She glanced up, tentatively, once, twice, a dozen -times at the erect figure, but always he stared ahead. -Again and again her scarlet lips trembled, but she -choked; sound halted on its bitten thresholds. Once -she touched his arm, but he drew sharply away and his -hand rose and flung beaded sweat from his brow. So, -for a tumultuous age it seemed to her, they whirled through -the gathering night, rattled on until a slab of light burst -through the darkness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Followed Leslie's voice. "Hullo, Elinor! What's the -matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stiffened—Carter felt her stiffen as in a mortal -rigor—but she answered, in level tones: "Oh, nothing -much. My saddle-girth burst and Mr. Carter kindly -drove me home. Won't you come in? Well—I'm ever -so much obliged. Good-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whirling homeward through the soft dusk, the tumult -which had confused Carter resolved into its elements, -shame, chagrin, wonder, and disgust. Each swayed -him in turn, then faded, leaving pity. Flaring up in -his cabin, his match revealed only concern on his -sunburned face. Taking a packet from under the pillow -of his bunk, he unfolded it upon the table, exposing a -glove, a ribbon, and some half-dozen hairs that gleamed, -threads of gold, under the lamplight. One by one he -had gleaned them, picking the first from the back of -Helen's coat one day coming out of Lone Tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he leaned over the trove there was no mawkish -sentimentality in his look, rather it expressed wonder, -wonder at himself. For his life had not always jibed -with the canons. To him in their appointed seasons -had come the heats of youth; and if now they had -merged in the deeper instinct which centres on a single -mate, the change had been sub-conscious. The house -he had built, the land he tilled, the herds he had gathered -about him were all products of this instinct, provision -against mating, for the one—when he should find her. -Yet, though found, he wondered; wondered at the -powerful grip which that small hand had wound into his -heart-strings, that those golden threads should be able -to bind with the strength of cables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not puzzle long. Presently concern again -darkened his countenance, and he murmured, "Poor -little woman! poor little thing!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could he have seen her just then! Leslie was out -talking horse with Molyneux at the stables, so no eye -saw her when, in the privacy of her bedroom, she -snatched the mask from her soul. At first stupefied, -she stared dully at familiar objects until her glance -touched a portrait of Helen on the dresser. That fired -her passion, started the wheels of torture. Dashing -it to the floor, she ground her heel into the smiling -face, raving in passionate whispers; then flinging at -length on the bed she writhed like a hurt snake, struck -her clinched fists into the pillows, bit them, her own -hands, soft arms. She agonized under the scorn that -belittles hell's fury. Truly, out of her indulgences, her -pleasant mental vices, the gods had twisted whips for -her scourging!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But if whips, as claimed, are deterrents of physical -crimes, they stimulate moral diseases; and whereas, -previously, Mrs. Leslie had been merely good-naturedly -frivolous, she came from under the lashes a dangerous -woman—the more dangerous because there was no -outward indication of the inward change. With Helen, -whom Molyneux brought up at the next week-end, -she was, if anything, kinder in manner, loving her with -gentle pats that gave no suggestion of steel claws -beneath the velvet. These, however, protruded, when the -girl borrowed her horse to pay a visit to Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie and Molyneux watched her away from -the door. The lady had plead a headache in excuse -for staying at home, but her eyes were devoid of weary -languor. They had flashed as she averted them from -the mended saddle-girth. They glittered as she now -turned them on Molyneux.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Calvert, you amuse me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" he asked, flushing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Such devotion in that last lingering glance. It was -worthy of a boy in a spasm of calf-love rather than the -dashing cavalryman who has tried to add my reputation -to the dozen that hang at his belt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux shrugged denial. "That's not true, Elinor. -I'm too good a hunter to stalk the unattainable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed, bowing. "Do I sit on such high peaks -of virtue?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or of indifference. It amounts to the same. Anyway, -I saw that there was no chance for </span><em class="italics">me</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again she laughed. "What </span><em class="italics">significance</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—I'm not blind, as—Leslie, for instance. I -only wonder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your taste."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She made a face at Helen's distant figure. "I might -return your thought. After all, Calvert, from our -viewpoint, you know, she's only a higher type of -native—dreadfully anthropomorphic."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," he answered. "And that's why I"—pausing, -he substituted an adverb more in accordance -with Mrs. Leslie's ironical mood—"like her. She's -fresh, sound, and clean of body and mind. Clings to -the ideals we chucked overboard a hundred years ago—lives -up to them with all the vim and push of her race. -She stirs me—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As a cocktail does a jaded palate," Mrs. Leslie -interposed. "And a good enough reason; it will serve for -us both, since you are so frank, Calvert. It is not your -fancy I am laughing at, but your diffidence, the morbid -respectability with which you wait till it pleases her to -give that which you have been accustomed to command -from others. It is quite touching.... But why this -timidity? Why do you linger?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because—" He paused, feeling it impossible to -yield the real reason up to her mockery; to tell that the -girl had touched a deeper chord of feeling than had ever -been reached by a woman's hand; that she had broken -the cynical crust which had been formed by years of -association with the sophisticated women of the army -set. He threw the onus back on her. "That's rich, -Elinor. Here, for months, you have fenced her about; -given her steady chaperonage; warned me to tone -down to avoid giving offence. Now you ask why? -Have you forgotten how you rated me for my violence -in pressing her under the mistletoe?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pish!" She contemplated him scornfully. "I only -advised caution. And then—" She also paused; then, -thrusting reserve to the winds, went on: "And then -she hadn't come between me and—my wish. Now she -has. And let me tell you, my friend"—she returned to -her "cocktail" simile—"that while you linger, inhaling -virginal aromas, a strong hand will slip in and drain the -glass. Will you stand by and see her sweetness sipped -by another? Now, don't strike me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked angry enough to do it, but contented himself -with throwing back her question, "Why do you linger?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I cannot drain my cup"—her lips quivered -thirstily—"till yours is out of the way. He has the -bad taste to prefer her spotlessness to my—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sophistication?" he supplied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She nodded. "Thanks. And he will continue to do -so until you take her out of the way. So—it is up to -you, as the boys say. I think, too, that she suspects -that my interest is not altogether platonic, and as a -commodity enhances in value as it is desired by others, -her liking may be spurred into love. At present she's -balanced. Likes you, I know. Better strike while the -iron is hot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would if I thought—" he began, then went on, -musingly: "But I've sized it up as slow-going. Didn't -think she was the kind that can be rushed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie snorted her disdain. "You? With all -your experience! To set her on a pinnacle! How long -before you men will learn that we would rather be taken -down and be hugged. While the saint worships at the -shrine the sinner steals the image. I warrant you my -big American won't waste any time on his knees. -However, I've warned—here comes Fred from the stables."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was not the end of their talk. It recurred at -every opportunity; and by the time Helen returned -Molyneux was persuaded against his better judgment -that he had gone too easily about his wooing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What thou doest, do quickly," she whispered, as he -went out to hitch to take Helen home. And as they -drove away she gazed long after them from the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What was she thinking? Given a woman of firmer -texture, one whose acts flowed from steady impulses, in -turn the effects of settled character, thought may be -guessed. But Mrs. Leslie's light nature veered to every -wind of passion. She could not even hate consistently. -Was she swayed altogether by revenge, or, as hinted by -her talk with Molyneux, was hope beginning to rise from -the ashes of despair?</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-devil"><span class="bold large">IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE DEVIL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>If, as said, the devil can quote Scripture for his own -purposes, it does not follow that said purposes are -always fulfilled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux had better have followed his intuition and -"gone slowly." But if, in brains and capacity, he -towered above the average of his remittance-fellows, the -taint of his ancient blood yet showed in a pliability to -suggestion, a childish eagerness to snatch unripe fruit. -Whereas, by a quiet apology, he had long ago repaired -his error in the Christmas games, he must now commit -greater foolishness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Consciously and unconsciously, in varying degrees, -Helen aided his blundering. She could not help looking -her prettiest. But her delicacies of cream and rose, -the tender mouth, the bosom heaving under its lace, -did not require the accentuation of coquetry. It was -the healthy coquetry of the young animal, to be sure, -unconscious, as much as can be. She need not, -however, have authorized his gallantries with laugh and -smile—would not, had she realized his limitations, his -confused morality, subordinance to passion, emotional -irresponsibility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Afterwards she had but a confused notion how the -thing came to pass. They laughed, chatted, jested, -while the tenderness in his manner bordered more and -more on the familiar. He had been telling her of the -strange marriage custom of an Afghan tribe and had -asked how she would like such a forceful wooing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," she answered, "that a strain of the primitive -inheres in our most cultured women. I'm sure I -could never love a man who was not my master."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke thoughtfully, considering the proposition -in the abstract; but he, in his blind folly, interpreted -concretely. In the sudden lighting of his face she read -her mistake. But before she could put out a hand in -protest, his arms were about her, his searching lips -smothered her cry. She fought wildly, spent her -strength in a desperate effort, then capitulated—lay, -panting, while he fed on her face, neck, hair, her lips. -And it was well she did. Prolonged resistance would -only have provoked him to freer license. As it was, -mistaking quiescence for acquiescence, he presently held -her off that his hot eyes might share the spoil.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She now fully realized her danger. His expression, -the glassy look of his eyes filled her with repulsion, but -she summoned to her aid all the craft that centuries of -dire need have bred in her race. She smiled up in his -face, rather a pallid smile, but sufficient for his fooling. -A playful hand held him back from another kiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very rough," she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Consider the provocation," he answered, dodging the hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tried not to shrink. "You upset me," she murmured. -"I am quite faint. Is there any water near by?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had noticed a slough ahead. Driving into it, he -bent over and wet her handkerchief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now if I could only drink."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stepped ankle-deep into the water. "Out of my -hands." But as he stooped, with concave palms, there -came a rattle behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uttering an oath, he sprang—too late. As he waded -to dry land she swung the ponies in a wide circle and -reined in about fifty yards away. While he looked -sheepishly on, she wiped her face with the kerchief, -rubbed and scrubbed till the skin shone red where his -lips had touched, then tossed the kerchief towards him -and drove on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A prey to remorse, shame, he stood gazing after. -All said, a man's ideals are formed by the people about -him. A virtuous woman, a leal friend, raise his -standard for the race; and just then Molyneux would have -given his life to place himself in the friendly relation -that obtained between them a half-hour ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he could not. Nor could all of Helen's vigorous -rubbing remove the memory of those shameful kisses. -Her bitten lips were scarlet when, a quarter-hour later, -she rattled up to Carter's shanty; her eyes were heavy -with unshed tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now here was a first-class opportunity for him to play -the fool. An untimely question, a little idiotic -sympathy would have put him in a worse case with her than -Molyneux. But though inwardly perturbed, shaking -with anxiety, he kept a grip on himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Such reckless driving!" he exclaimed, harking back -to her own words on that first drive from Lone Tree. -Then solemnly surveying Molyneux's hat, which was -perched funnily on the seat beside her, he went on, -"Looks like you've lost a passenger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His twinkle removed the tension. Looking down on -the hat, she laughed; and if, a minute later, she cried, -the tears that wet his shoulder were not cast against him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you will return the ponies," she said, when her -cry was out—she had already told him enough to -explain the situation—"I'll stay here till you come back -and then you may drive me home—if you will?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I'll find him?" She laughed at his comical -accent as he intended she should.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"About three miles back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any message?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sensed the menace. "Oh no! If you quarrel, -I'll never, never forgive you. Now, please!" She placed -her hand on his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," he agreed, and, five minutes later drove -off with the Devil pony in leash behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From afar Molyneux saw him coming and braced -for the encounter, but Carter had gotten himself well -in hand. "Miss Morrill," he said, "is real sorry she -couldn't hold the ponies. But, Lordy, man, you oughtn't -to have gone picking flowers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's lying!" Molyneux thought, but followed the -lead. "Yes, it was careless. But, you know, it is -always the unexpected that happens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're dead right there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The significance caused Molyneux to redden; but he -tried to carry it off easily. "And I'm much obliged to -you, Mr. Carter. Can't I drive you home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning from cinching his saddle, Carter regarded -him steadily. "Obliged to you, sir. I'm a bit -particular in my choice of company."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The contempt stung Molyneux to retort: "You are -plain-spoken, but I'm told the trait is common in -Americans. Fortunately for us outsiders, your women are -more complaisant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It only led him deeper. Giving a last vicious tug at -the cinch, Carter vaulted into the saddle. "Yes," he -shot back, as he arranged his bridle, "they make a -mistake now and then, but it don't take 'em long to -find it out." And he galloped away with easy honors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reining in at his own door half an hour later, he -regarded with astonishment a transformation which had -occurred in his absence. Instead of the woman, -beautiful in her angry tears, a demure girl came out to meet -him. While he was gone she had bathed her red eyes, -then, to relieve a headache, had let down her hair and -braided it into a plait of solid gold. Thick as Carter's -wrist, it hung so low that, obedient to his admiring -suggestion, she easily knitted it about her waist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look," he said, "more like school-girl than -school-marm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With that simple coiffure displaying the girlish line -of her head and neck, she might, indeed, have easily -passed for eighteen. It accentuated a wee tip-tilt of -her pretty nose, a leaning to the </span><em class="italics">retroussé</em><span> that had been -the greatest trial of her youth and still caused her -occasional qualms. Could she have realized the piquancy -it lent to features that, otherwise, had been too regular -or have known the sensation it caused her companion -as he looked down on it and her eyelashes fluttering up -from eyes that were wide and grave with question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One glance reassured her. His unruffled calm, the -ironic humor of his mouth, all expressed his mastership -of the late situation. Satisfied, she mounted beside him -when he had hitched the ponies and settled in against -him with a sigh of relief. Not that she had so easily -forgotten her late trouble. The injured droop of her -mouth, the serious face moved him to vast sympathy -and anger. He longed to smooth the knit brow with -kisses, to take her in his arms and soothe her as a little -child. For a second time that day her mouth stood in -hazard, but, bracing himself against temptation, he tried -to wean her from her brooding by ways that were safer -if less sweet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any one," he said, twinkling down upon her, "would -think you'd lost your best friend—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Instead of my worst," she anticipated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad you put it that way." He nodded his satisfaction. -"And since you do, why waste regrets? Jest -wipe him clean off your books."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is bitter to learn that you have been deceived," -she answered. "More bitter to feel yourself misread. -Most bitter"—her voice dropped to a whisper—"to -learn it in such a shameful way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not say, "I warned you." Only his big brown -hand closed on hers with a sympathetic squeeze that -almost expelled the pain in her heart. She did not -withdraw it; rather she drew in closer, and thus, hand -in hand, they rattled south over the vast green -prairies which now were all shotten with the iridescence -of myriad flowers. The trail wound through seas of -daisies, bluebells, white tuft. Slender golden-rod -trembled in the breeze; dandelions and tiger-lilies flaunted -their golden beauty under turquoise skies. It was, -indeed, difficult to remain sad with such company in -such surroundings; for not content with mute -sympathy, he strove to divert her thought by talk of the -animals or plants which they saw or passed, astonished -her with his wide knowledge of curious traits in their -nature or history. So, gliding from subject to subject, -he weaned her from her trouble, and so, by easy stages, -came to speaking of himself, modestly introducing the -subject with a letter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was from the office of the traffic manager of the -trunk line acknowledging a bid for tie and trestle -contracts for the projected branch through Silver Creek. -While Cummings, Hines, and their confrères were -fulminating against the railroad pantheon, Carter had -ridden over the spruce ranges of the Riding Mountains, -had secured options on cutting permits from the -provincial government, had driven down the old survey, and -then submitted an estimate which caused the construction -department of the railway to gasp its astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chief engineer even carried the estimate to the -traffic manager. "Ties and timbers, this fellow Carter -comes within a few thousand feet of old Sawyer's -estimate," he said. "Moreover, he is ready to deliver the -goods. Gives references to the Bank of America, which -is to finance his enterprise. Who is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One would hardly expect the traffic manager to have -remembered, but he had; and thus it came about that -the postscript of the letter was in his own big sprawl. -He regretted the fact that construction had been put -off for another year, "but," he added, "I have placed -your bid on my own files and shall see that it receives the -earliest consideration when we are ready for construction."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen exclaimed her satisfaction. "I'm so glad. I -never knew that—you could do this kind of work. -Why didn't you tell me? I'm so interested. Will it -be a large contract?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes testified to her words, and as, obedient to -her wish, he ran on giving details, they grew larger and -more luminous. A touch of awe dwelt in their hazel -depths. Feeling always the attraction of his fine -physique, respecting his strength of will, clean character, -he now commanded her admiration on another score. -Was he not proving himself "fit" in the iron struggle of -an economic age? And she, delicate bloom, crowning -bud of the tree of evolution, being yet subject to the -law that, of old, governed the cave maiden in her choice -of a mate, felt the full force of this last expression of -his power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As never before, she responded to his thought and -feeling. When, after a sudden lurch, he left his -supporting arm on the rail across her waist, she did not -draw away; nay, she yielded to a luxurious sense of -protection and power, leaning in against his shoulder. -That day all things had conspired in his favor—even -her pique at Molyneux—and now the rapid movement, -caressing sweep of the wind, riot of color and sunlight, -all helped to influence her judgment in a situation that -was rapidly approaching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It lay, the situation, in a deep pool, ten feet below -the bank of Silver Creek. As before noted, Death and -the Devil, those lively ponies, were, as Carter put it, -"worth watching" any and all the time on the dead -level, and the fact that he held a loose line on them -running down trail into the valley proved how very, -very far he had departed from his usual imperturbable -mood. Small wonder, for the hazel glances he had -sustained this last hour would have upset the coolest -head. But if his condition was perfectly natural, so -also was the innate deviltry that caused the ponies to -bolt the trail and plunge over the aforesaid bank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen could never tell just how it happened. After -two seconds' furious bumping, she felt herself lifted -bodily. Followed a crash as they fell. That was the -impact of the buggy wheel with Carter's head. The -arms loosened as she took the icy plunge, then came a -half-minute's suffocating struggle while the current was -carrying her out to the shallows. Wet, draggled, she -stumbled shoreward; then, as the water cleared out of -her eyes, she turned and plunged wildly back. Face -downward, Carter was floating over a two-foot shallow -and another second would have carried him into a longer -and deeper pool.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for him, returning consciousness brought him -sensations of something soft under his splitting -head—that was Helen's bosom; of arms about his neck; -lips that wildly kissed his and which opened with a -glad cry when he moved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I thought you were dead!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For one blissful moment she allowed him to gaze in -at the clear windows of her soul; then remembering the -unusual but effective restorative she had used in the -case, she flamed out in sudden colors, the banners of -discovered love. Never was maid in such a predicament! -Was it fair to expect that she would let fall a -head that had been damaged in her cause? She could -only wait until, having fed his eyes full on her sweet -distress, he reached up and pulled her blushing face -down upon his own. The sun, the wind, the rippling -water alone witnessed her surrender. After a while a -grizzled badger peered at them from his hole, pronounced -them harmless, and so came forth upon his errands. A -colony of gophers laid aside serious business to note, -heads askew, loves that differed so little from their own. -A robin cried shame upon them from a willow near by. -But they were not ashamed. An hour slid by without -either thinking of such sub-lunary matters as damaged -heads or wet clothing; at the end of which Death and -the Devil, having accomplished the complete destruction -of the buck-board, came back to look for their -master—probably associating him with the evening feed -of oats—and fell to cropping the grass along the creek.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she spoke, softly, blushing again. "You must -think me shameless, but—I did—I really thought you -were dead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ain't you glad I'm not?" She never noticed the -"ain't," this young lady who had originally sized him -as an underbred person.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not answer, but he mightily appreciated the -sudden tightening of her arms. "But what must you -think of me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told all—of his resolution the moment he saw -her on the Lone Tree platform; of his hope, fears, dark -despair, the hell he had suffered on Molyneux's account. -A soft hand cut short this last revelation, and immediately -they fell again into one of love's deep silences, an -eloquent pause that endured until the westering sun -threw long shadows across the creek. Then, rising, he -caught the ponies and arranged saddles with blankets -and straps from the broken harness, while she looked -on with soft attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mounted, they paused and looked back at the stream, -ruby red under the dying sun, the clay bank, the -bordering willows, then they kissed each other soberly and -rode on. Dusk was blanketing the prairies when they -drew up at Flynn's cabin, yet it was not too dark for -Mrs. Flynn's sharp eyes to pick their secret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the new school-ma'am ye'll need to be looking -for," she told Flynn. "Why? Man, didn't ye see him -look at her, an' her that lovely red, her eyes pretty as a -mother deer's, an' her voice soft an' cooing as a dove's. -Flynn, Flynn! ye've forgotten your own courting."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One fine morning, two months later, Molyneux's drivers -spun out of his stable enclosure and rattled south -at a pace that did not keep up with their driver's impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These two months had certainly been the unhappiest -of his life. A man's opinions, philosophy, must, if they -have vitality at all, be formed upon the actions of those -about him, upon the phenomena which life presents to -his reason. This, however, does not altogether annul -the force of those ideals of conduct for himself and -others which were learned at his mother's knee. -Always they persist. Granted that loose life may smother -the plant so that it produces neither fruit nor leafage, -yet the germ is there—the assurety that beyond the -rotten pale of fast society lies a fair land where purity, -chastity, goodness, the virtues one firmly incarnates in -the person of mother, sister, or girl friend, do grow and -flourish. Under the foulness of the most determined -roué lies the ineradicable belief that had Lot sought -righteousness among the women of Sodom that wicked -city had never been destroyed. One clean, wholesome -girl will shake a man's faith in baseness, torture him -with a vivid sense of his own backslidings, and now -that passion's scales were fallen from his eyes, Molyneux -appreciated at their full worth the naïve mixture of -innocence and womanly wisdom, the health, strength, -and wholesomeness of character that set Helen apart -from his light acquaintance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fool! fool!" he had told himself again and again. -"She is worthy of a king—if one could be found worthy -of her. And you had a fair chance! Oh, you fool!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor had he failed to write her a letter of apology. He -had done that in the first agonies of repentance, six weeks -ago, and, receiving no answer, had taken the ensuing -weeks to screw his courage to the point of asking pardon -in person. But now that it was there he was possessed -of a wild exhilaration that took no thought of refusal. -She could hardly fail to pardon a suppliant for crimes -that were instigated by her own beauty, and one so -becomingly repentant! Full of the consciousness of his -own virtuous intention, it was quite easy for him to -credit Helen with the magnanimity that would be its -reciprocal feeling; and this once established, himself -pardoned in thought, he passed to day-dreams. Her -smile, the sweet tilt of her pretty nose, her glory of -golden hair, her every physical and mental charm, passed -in mental review, beguiling the tedium of the trail till -the school-house thrust up over the horizon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then his mood changed. Its squat, obtrusive materiality -thrust into his consciousness, shattering the filmy -substance of his dreams, and as he noticed the closed -windows, shut door, doubt replaced elation, depression, -the black antithesis of his late mood, settled down upon -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he sat staring a voice hailed him. "Been riding -ahint of you this half-hour, but you never looked back. -Fine haying weather, ain't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Startled, Molyneux turned to find Jed Hines surveying -him with an irritating smile. His expression plainly -revealed that not only did he know Molyneux's errand, but -that he was viewing it under the light of humorous secret -knowledge. Restraining an impulse to remodel the -expression, he said, nonchalantly as he could: "What is the -matter here? School closed?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines nodded. He had all the Canadian's traditional -hate of the remittance-man; Molyneux, in especial, he -detested, because, perhaps by his superior shrewdness, -he gave less cause for contempt than the race in general. -That he had paused to speak was proof sufficient that he -had unpleasant news. He would, however, take his own -time in delivering it—prolong the torture to the limit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Midsummer holidays," he laconically answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux ignored his curtness. "Miss Morrill at -Glaves's place, do you know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jed's grin widened. "You hain't heard, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heard what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jed gazed off and away over the prairies. "No, you -won't find her at Glaves's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How Molyneux longed to spoil the grin. But a deadly -anxiety constrained him. "Where is she, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nowheres around here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet!" The grin gave place to malignant satisfaction. -"Yes, I know—that is, I kin guess, though I -wouldn't if I thought it would do you any good. As it -won't—Let me see—she was married a week ago by -the Roman priest. Jedging by averages, I reckon as -you orter find her in Carter's arms."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If he had expected his news to produce a disagreeable -impression he was not disappointed, for its visible -manifestation landed full in his face, and he dropped flat on -his shoulders. Not lacking a certain wolf courage, primitive -ferocity of the cornered rat, he sprang up, lunged at -Molyneux, and went down a second time. Then he stayed, -watching until the other had jumped into his buggy -and driven away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never saw the devil!" he muttered, shaking his fist, -"but your face, jes' then, came mighty near the preacher's -description."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="friction"><span class="bold large">X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">FRICTION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Once upon a time a man wrote a book that proved -how easily a cultured Eastern girl might fall in -love with and marry a Western cow-boy. It was a -beautiful story, about people who were beautiful or -picturesque according as they were good or bad, but it -ended just where, in real life, stories begin. After the -manner of fairy tales, the author assured us that the -girl and the cow-boy lived happily ever after. Now I -wonder if they did?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A year later a big bull-fly thudded at the screen door -of Carter's cabin in vain efforts to enter and take toll of -Helen's white flesh. By the gentlemen who ordain the -calendar, a year is given as a space of time between -points that are fixed, immutable as the stars. Sensible -folk know better. Years vary—are long or short according -to the number, breadth, and depth of the experiences -their space covers. This year had marked Helen. She -was fuller lipped, rounder, enveloped by the sensuous -softness of young wifehood. Sitting at table with her -white blouse tucked in at the neck for coolness, she had -never looked prettier. But granting these attributes of -her changed condition, a keen observer would have -missed that gentle brooding, ripe fruit of content which -exhales from the perfectly mated woman. As, time and -again, her glance touched Carter, sitting opposite, she -would sigh, ever so gently, yet sigh; the direction of her -glance told also that her discontent was associated in -some way with his shirt-sleeves, rolled to the elbow, and -his original methods in the use of his knife and fork. -Grasping these implements within an inch of their -points, he certainly secured a mighty leverage, yet -undoubtedly lost in grace what he secured in power, besides -pre-empting more elbow-room than could be accorded to -one person at a dinner-party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tut! tut!" she observed, timidly, after tentative -observation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, shore! There I go again!" His quick answer -and the celerity with which his hands crawfished back -to the handles told of many corrections; yet five -minutes later they had stolen out once more to the old -familiar grip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sighed again. It was not that she had wished -to hobble her frontiersman, to harness him to the -conventions. Her feeling flowed from a larger source. -Believing him big of brain and soul as of body, she -would have had him perfect in small things as he was -great in large, that her ideal should be so filled and -rounded out as to leave no room for sighs. To this end -she had, from the first, attempted small polishments, -which he had received with whimsical good-humor that -took no thought of how vital the matter was with her. -Had he realized this he might have made a determined -effort instead of a slack practice which flows from easy -complaisance; but, not realizing it, he made no -headway. In these last months she had gained insight into -that philosophical axiom: It is easier to make over a -dozen lovers than one husband. Unlike the girl in the -aforesaid beautiful story, she had begun reconstruction -at the wrong side of the knot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not that this unwelcome truth would or could, of -itself, have affected her love in quality or quantity. -At times she agonized remorsefully over her tendency -to criticism, tutoring herself to look only for the large -things of character. Again, when, of nights, she would -slip to his arms for a delightful hour before retiring, she -would wonder at herself: every last vestige of -discontent evaporated with her murmured sigh of perfect -happiness. These were great moments for both. Lying -so, she would look up in his bronzed face and listen -while, in his big way, he talked and planned, unrolling -the scroll of their future—listen patiently until he -became too absorbed, when she would interrupt with some -kittenish trick to draw him back into the delightful -present. Pretty little tricks, loving little tricks, that -one would never have dreamed lay hidden under the -exterior of the staid young school-ma'am.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But these, after all, were moods, and there had been -other and real cause of discontent. First, the railway -gods had again broken faith with the settlers; and every -cent that Carter could raise or borrow had been required -to meet rents on his timber concessions. Though not in -actual want, they had had to trim expenses, reduce their -living to the settler scale. Having all of a pretty -woman's natural love of finery, Helen could see no way -of restoring her depleted wardrobe. Moreover, there was -the choring, washing, milking of cows, feeding of calves, -inseparable from pioneer settler life—a burden that was -not a whit the less toilsome because self-assumed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter would have spared her all that—was, indeed, -angry when, coming in late one night, he caught her -toiling at the milking. "I didn't know it was so hard," -she pleaded, holding up her swollen wrists. "But I -couldn't bear to see you come in, tired, at dark, then go -on with the chores while I sat in the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had made her promise not to do it again. But -she did, and his protests, vigorous at first, slackened, -until, finally, the choring had come to be regarded as -hers as a matter of course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even the climate was against her, conspiring against -her peace of body if not of mind. The previous winter -had been the bitterest in a score of years, temperatures -ranging from forty below zero, with a yard of snow on -the level, fifty-foot drifts in the bluffs, and hundred-mile -winds to drive cold and snow through the thickest of -log walls. For days she had sat in her furs by the -red-hot stove, while the blizzard roared about the cabin, -walling it in fleecy snows—sat listening to the agonized -shout of wind-blown trees, the squeal of poplar brake, -the smash of rent branches, the thunderous storm voice -that was spaced only by distant crashes as the lords of -the forest went down to stiff ends. North, south, east, -west had veered these terrible winds, freighting always -their inexhaustible snows. The trails were blown from -earth's face; solitary blotch, their cabin rose like a reef -from an ocean of whiteness; and they, castaways, were -practically divorced for days, and sometimes weeks, from -all communication with their kind. Hardly less terrible -had been the calms, the vast frozen silences as of -interplanetary space that followed the blizzard, ruling the -snowy steppes. They filled her with a terrifying sense -of the illimitable, those silences, vivid as though she, a -lonely soul, were travelling through vast voids of time -and space. She shrank under them, afraid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Followed a mosquito year in a mosquito country. -Fattened by the heavy snows, stagnant sloughs held -water till late in the summer and so bred the pests by -myriads of myriads. Of nights the tortured air whined -of them. By day their cattle hung about the corrals, -cropping the grass down to the dust, or if they did -wander farther afield, came galloping madly back to the -smudges. For two months any kind of travel had been -impossible; clouds of the pests would settle on hands, -face, neck quicker than one could wipe them off. -Milking and choring had to be done under cover of a -thick reek to an accompaniment of lashing tails, with -frequent and irritating catastrophes in the way of -overturned pails. The acrid odor of smoke clung to -everything—hair, clothing, flesh; the cabin was little better -than a smoke-house until the heat had mitigated the -pests while adding its own discomforts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a dull life enough for men whose tasks were -broken by periodical trips to market; it was -martyrdom for housefast women. Always around the shanty -mourned the eternal winds of the plains. Wind! Wind! -Wind in varying quantity, from a breeze to a blizzard, -but always wind. Its melancholy dirge left a haunting -in the eyes of men. Its ceaseless moan prepared many -a plainswoman for the madhouse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With bright hope at heart to gild the future, she -might have endured both discomfort and drudgery, but -the postponement of construction work on the branch -line had killed immediate hope. With dismay she -realized a certain coarsening of body and mind, a thickening -of finger-joints, roughness of skin, an attenuation -where milking had turned the plump flesh of her arms -into gaunt muscle. And to her the thought of that -far-off summer day recurred with increasing frequency—would -this equilibration with environment end by leaving -her peer to the scrawny, flat-chested women of the -settlements? She who had excelled in the small -arts—music, painting, modelling in wax and clay? Her past, -in such seasons of depression, seemed now as that of -some other girl—a girl who had worn pretty dresses and -been admired and petted by father, brother, and friends. -Of all her gifts, her voice, a sweet contralto, was only -left her; and of late it had naturally attuned itself to -her sadder moods. So she had felt her life shrink and -grow narrow, until looking down the vista of frozen -winters, baking summers, they seemed, those weary -years, to draw to a dull, hard point, the wind-swept acre -with its solitary grave. Conditions had certainly -combined to produce in her a subconscious discontent that -might develop into open revolt against her lot at the -touch of obscure and apparently insignificant cause; they -reinforced and made dangerous the irritation caused by -his little gaucheries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As aforesaid, her dark moods alternated with spasms -of remorse—fits of melting tenderness in which she -condemned herself for her secret criticism of him. Peeping -through their bedroom window only the preceding night, -the moon had caught her bending over his sleep. The -tender light absorbed his tan, softened the strong -features without taking from their mobility; deeply shading -the hollows, it gave his whole face an air of clear-cut -refinement. Its wonderful alchemy foreshadowed the -possibilities of this life, lying so quiescent beneath her -eyes. For a long hour she held the vigil, while thought -threw flitting shadows athwart her face; then, stooping, -she softly kissed him under cover of her clouding hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a momentous caress, registering as it did her -acceptance of a lowered ideal, marking her realization -of the friction which follows all marriages and is -inevitable to such as hers. Yet it had not removed the cause; -that remained. It is easier far to overlook a great -sin than a daily gaucherie, to rise to vast calamity than -to brook the petty irritations which mar and make life -ugly. The cause remained, surely! To see her quiet -and pensive at table this day, who would have dreamed -that the morrow would see the thin edge of the wedge -driven in between them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's to be a picnic in the grove by Flynn's lake -to-morrow, Nell," he said, as he rose from dinner. -"Let's take a day off?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right!" she agreed; and the kiss with which she -rewarded the prospect of even such a slight break in the -dulness of life may easily be regarded as the first tap -on the wedge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How quickly personality responds to atmosphere! -When, next morning, Helen climbed into the buck-board -beside Carter, she was frankly happy as a woman can be -in the knowledge that she is looking fit for the occasion. -Cool, clean, and fresh in a billowy white dress of her own -laundering, excitement and Carter's admiring glances -intensified her naturally delicate color. As they rattled -over the yellow miles, doubt and misgiving vanished -under the spell of present happiness. She returned him -eyes that were lovingly shy as those of their honeymoon; -was subdued, sedate, sober, or burst out in small trills -of song as the mood seized her. Not until she was -actually upon the picnic-ground did she realize the real -nature of this, her first appearance at a public function -since her marriage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A clear sky and a breeze that set yellow waves chasing -one another over the far horizon had brought out the -settlers in a fifty-mile circle—even the remittance-men, -who had been wont to spell amusement in the red letters -of the London alphabet, were there. Like most country -picnics, it was pseudo-religious in character, with a -humorous speech from the minister figuring as the greatest -attraction. Amusements ran from baseball and -children's games for youth to love-making in corners by -shamefaced couples.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaving Carter to put up his team, Helen carried -their basket over to where a crowd of officious matrons -were arranging tables under the trees, and so gained -first knowledge of what was in store for her. The latest -bride, she was the centre of attraction, target for glances. -Approaching a group of loutish youths, she felt their -stares, flushed under the smothered laugh which greeted -her sudden change of direction. Girls were just as -unmannerly. Ceasing their own rough flirtations, they -gathered in giggling groups to observe and comment on one -who had already achieved that which they contemplated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor was she more comfortable among the matrons. -While she was teaching school, the halo of education -had set her apart and above them, but now they wished -her to understand that her marriage had brought her -down to their level. They plied her with coarse -congratulations, embarrassed her with jokes and prophecies -that were broader than suggestive. Time and again she -looked, for rescue, at Carter, but he was talking railroad -politics in an interested group, did not join her till -lunch was served, and afterwards was hauled away to -play in a baseball game—married men </span><em class="italics">versus</em><span> single.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she had but a small respite. With his departure -the women renewed their onslaughts, as though -determined to beat down her personal reserve and reave her -nature of its inmost secrets. No subject was too sacred -for their joking—herself, her husband, the intimacies of -their lives. There was no satiating their burning -curiosity; her timid cheeks, monosyllabic answers, served -only to whet their sharp tongues. Shocked, weary, -cheeks burning with shame, she sat on, not daring to go -in search of Carter and so brave again the fire of eyes, -until, midway of the afternoon, she looked up to see -Molyneux and Mrs. Leslie approaching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the crowning of her humiliation. With the -exception of a duty-call on her return to Silver Creek, -and which she had not returned, it was the first time -that Helen had seen Mrs. Leslie for more than a year. -"As you think best," Carter had said, when she had -debated the advisability of renewing the friendship. -"You wouldn't care to meet Molyneux again, would -you? He's sure to be there." And, departing from his -usual sane judgment, he made no further explanations, -said nothing of his drive in the dusk with the love-sick -woman, knowledge of which would surely have killed -Helen's friendly feeling. Lacking that knowledge, she -had pined for the one woman who could give her the -social and intellectual companionship her nature craved, -pined with an intensity of feeling that was only equalled -by her present desire to avoid a meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If they would </span><em class="italics">only</em><span> pass without seeing her, she -prayed, bowing her head in shame. But Mrs. Leslie -had been watching from afar. "Poor little thing!" she -had exclaimed to Molyneux. "Alone among those -harpies! Come, let's rescue her!" And whatever her -motive, the kiss she bestowed on the blushing girl was -warm and natural. "Why, Helen," she said, -"whatever are you doing here? Come along with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are going to organize a race for three-year-old -tots, Mrs. Carter," Molyneux explained. "We really -need your assistance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His deferential air as he stood bareheaded before her, -the languid correctness of his manner, even the -aristocratic English drawl, pierced that atmosphere of -vulgarity like a breath of clean air. The easy insolence -with which he ignored the settler women was as balm -to her wounded pride. She recovered her poise; her -drooping personality revived.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to—very much," she answered, adding, -a little timidly, "But I was waiting for my husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dutiful child," Mrs. Leslie laughed. "Well, he is so -busy running up the batting average for the Benedicts -that he has forgotten you. Come along!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We might go round—" Helen began, tentatively,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She would have finished "his way," but, glancing over at -the game, she saw that in his interest he really had -forgotten her. "Very well!" she substituted; and, rising, she -strolled off between the two, passing within a few yards of -Carter. Busy with his game, he did not see her, nor would -have known what company she was keeping but for Shinn, -a near neighbor of Jed Hines and fellow of his kidney.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your wife," he remarked, "seems to be enjy-ing -herself." His sneer caused a titter among both players -and spectators, but before it subsided Carter came quickly -back. Throwing a careless glance after Helen, "That's -more'n I can say for yourn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The titter swelled to a roar that caused Helen to look -back. Mrs. Shinn, poor drudge, had not strayed twenty -feet from her cook-stove in as many squalid years, as -every one knew well. Grinning evilly, Shinn subsided, -while, after carelessly waving his hand at Helen, Carter -returned to his batting. If he disapproved of her escort, -not a lift of a line betrayed the fact to curious eyes—not -even when he drove around and found her still with -Molyneux and Mrs. Leslie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were both silent on the homeward drive. In -Helen's mind Carter was associated with the coarse and -sickening humiliations of the day. As never before, she -felt the enormous suction from below; she battled against -the feeling with the desperation of the swimmer who feels -the whirlpool clutching at his heels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her mood was defiant, and if, just then, he had taken -her to task for her truancy, she would have flamed up in -open revolt. But he did not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are tired," he said, very gently, when the ponies -had run them far out from the press of teams and rigs. -She appreciated that; yet when he slipped an arm about -her waist she moved restlessly within its circle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wedge was well entered.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-frost"><span class="bold large">XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FROST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One noon, a week after the picnic, Carter stood and -looked out over his hundred-acre field of wheat -from his doorway. A golden carpet, sprigged with the -dark green of willow bluffs, it ran back into a black, -environing circle of distant woodland. As a vagrant -zephyr touched it into life, Helen remarked, looking -over his shoulder:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The serrated ears in restless movement give it the -exact appearance of woven gold. Isn't it beautiful!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dramatist loves to make great events follow in -rapid sequence. It is the need of his art. But in life -the tragic mixes with the commonplace. Even Lady -Macbeth must have, on occasion, joked or talked scandal -with her handmaidens. And as these two looked out -over the wheat, there was naught to indicate the shadow -which lay between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Finest stand I ever saw," Carter answered. "Five-foot -straw, well headed, plump in the grain; ought to -grade Number One Extra Hard. We'll make on that -wheat, little girl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you really think so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Those women at the picnic—-" She explained her -dubious tone. "They said you were foolish to put in -so much wheat. 'What kind of a darn fool is your -husband, anyway?' that Mrs. MacCloud asked me. 'He -kain't never draw all that wheat to Lone Tree. Take -him a month to make two trips. 'Tain't no use to raise -grain without a railroad. We folks hain't put in more'n -enough for bread an' seed.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed, as much at her clever mimicry as at -Mrs. MacCloud's frankness. "If they had put in more I -wouldn't have sown any. Could have bought it cheaper -from them. But as they didn't— Do you know that -every man in this settlement makes at least one trip a -month to Lone Tree during the winter? Well, they do, -and they'll be glad to make expenses freighting in my -wheat. With grain at seventy a bushel, a load will -bring thirty dollars at the cars, and I can hire all the -teams I want at three a trip."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why"—his foresight caused her a little gasp—"how -clever! I should never have thought of that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes twinkled his appreciation of her wifely -admiration, and, taking her chin between his hands, he -looked down into her eyes. "What's more, when that -wheat money comes in, you an' me 'll jest run down to -Winnipeg an' turn loose on the dry-goods stores."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the first hint of his knowledge of the turning, -dyeing, the shifts she had made with her wardrobe, and -he made a winning. The knowledge that he had seen -and understood caused the wedge to tremble and almost -fall out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can we—afford it?" she asked, willing now to go -without a thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't have to afford necessities. Breaks me up to -see you going shy of things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the last three days he had bestowed the parting -kiss. This morning he received it—a warm one at -that—and as he strode off stableward, her burst of singing -echoed his cheerful whistle. She was quite happy the -next few days planning for their descent on the shops. -She sang at her work—warbling that was natural as that -of the little bird which prinks and plumes for its mate in -the morning sunlight. Reflecting her happy mood, -Carter was humorously cheerful—so pleased and satisfied -that she stared when, one evening, he came in, gloomy -and depressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His black mood had come out of the east with a -moaning wind that now herded leaden clouds over dun -prairies. For one day rain pelted down, then, veering -north, the bitter wind blew hard for a second day. -That evening it died, and a pale sun swung down a -cloudless sky to a colorless horizon. Under its cold -light the wheat stood erect, motionless, devoid of its -usual sighing life. A hush, portentous of change, -brooded over all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From their doorway Helen heard Hines, three miles -away, rating his dog. "Hain't no more gumption than -an Englishman, durn you! Sick 'em, now!" followed -the maligned animal's bark and the thunder of scurrying -hoofs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How clear and calm it is!" she commented, as Carter -came up from the stables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced at the thermometer beside the door. "Too -clear. I'm afraid it is all off with the wheat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why? What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned from her astonished eyes. "Frost."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frost? You are surely mistaken? See how sunny -it is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shaking his head, he laid a forefinger on the thermometer. -"Six o'clock, and the silver is down to thirty-five."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At dusk it had lowered another degree, and -throughout the northland a hundred thousand farmers were -watching, with Carter, its slow recession. On the fertile -wheat plains of southern Manitoba, through the vast -gloom of the Dakotas, to the uttermost limits of -Minnesota, the mercury focussed the interest of half a million -trembling souls whose fire-fly lanterns dusted the -continental gloom. Prayers, women's tears, men's agonized -curses marked its decline, that, like an etching tool, -graved deep lines on haggard faces in Chicago, Liverpool, -and London far away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At thirty-two Carter lit the smudges of wet straw, and -simultaneously the vast spread of night flamed out in -smoke and fire. "I don't go much on it," he told Helen. -"But some believe in it, and I ain't agoing to miss a -chance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was right. Pale thief, the frost stole in under the -reek and breathed his cold breath on the wheat. Holding -his instrument, at ten o'clock, in the thickest smoke, -Carter saw that it registered twenty-seven. Five degrees -of frost and the cold of dawn still to come! Raising the -glass, he dashed it to pieces at his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was done. Reverberating through the land, the -smash of his glass typified the shattering of innumerable -fortunes, the crash of business houses. The pistol-shot -that wound up the affairs of some desperate gambler -was but one echo. Surging wildly, the calamity would -affect far more than the growers of wheat. Iron-workers, -miners, operatives in a hundred branches of industry -would shiver under the cold breath of the frost. -For now the farmer would buy less cotton, the operative -pay more for his flour, the miner earn a scantier wage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>True, the balance swings ever even. This year ryots -of India, Argentine peons, Egyptian fellaheen would -reap where they had not sown, gather where they had -not strawed. Another year a Russian blight, Nile -drouth, hot wind of Argentine would swing prices in -favor of the northland. But in this was small comfort -for the stricken people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All gone!" Carter exclaimed at midnight. "The -feathers are frozen offen them bonnets."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen sensed the bitterness under his lightness. -"Never mind, dear," she comforted. "I really don't -care. You did your best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">He had done his best</em><span>! To a strong man the phrase -stabs, signifying the victory of conditions. He winced, -as from an offered blow. It was the last drop in his -cup, the signal of his defeat. It marked the destruction -of this his last plan for her. He had not, in the -beginning, intended that she should ever set her hand to -drudgery. His love was to come between her and all -that was sordid, squalid. If the railroad contract had -materialized, she should have had a little home in -Winnipeg where she might enjoy the advantages of her early -life. He had planned for a servant—two, if she could -use them—and all that he asked in return was that she -should bring beauty into his life, adorn his home, sweeten -his days with the aroma of her delicate presence. In this -small castle of Spain he had installed his beauty of the -sweet mouth, golden hair, pretty profile; and now, out of -his own disappointment, he read reproach in the hazel -eyes that looked out from the ruins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long after her sleep-breathing freighted the dusk of -their bedroom, he lay gazing wide-eyed into the black -future. A sudden light would have shown his eyes -blank, expressionless, for his spirit was afar, questing -for other material with which to rebuild his castle. In -thought he was travelling Silver Creek, from its -headwaters in the timber limits to its source where it flowed -into the mighty Assiniboin. It was a small stream—too -small to drive logs except for a month on the snow -waters. But with a dam here—another there—a third -on the flats—rough structures of logs with a stone and -gravel filling, yet sufficient to conserve the falling -waters! The drive could then be sent down from dam -to dam! During the night he travelled every yard of -the stream, placing his dams, and at dawn rose, content -in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slipping quietly from the house, he saddled the Devil -and led him quietly by while Helen still slept, and an -hour later rode up to Bender's cabin. The Cougar was -also there, and from dubious head-waggings the two -relapsed into thoughtful acquiescence as Carter unfolded -his plans.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She'll go down like an eel on ice!" Bender enthusiastically -agreed. "All you want now is backing. Funny, -ain't it, that nobody ever thought o' that before? Say"—he -regarded Carter with open admiration—"you're -particular hell when it comes to thinking. If I'd a -headpiece like yourn—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You hain't," the Cougar coldly interrupted, "so -don't waste no time telling us what you might ha' done. -Get down to business. I know a man"—he thoughtfully -surveyed Carter—"that financed half a dozen big -lumbering contrac's on the Superior construction work. -He'll sire anything that looks like ten per cent. an' this -of yourn will sure turn fifty. Come inside an' I'll write -you a letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What of the Cougar's inexperience with the pen, the -morning was well on when Carter rode back to his cabin. -If Helen had looked closely she might have seen the -new resolution that inhered in his smile, but she had been -concerned with her own reflections. Somehow, things -had not appeared this morning as they did last night. -Crude daylight shows events, like tired faces, in all their -haggardness, and their complexion was not improved -by the steam from her wash-tub. Time and again she -had paused to survey her hands, creased and wrinkled -by cooking in hot water. Her bare arms recalled her -first party-dress, and set her again in the sweet past. -Beside it the present seemed infinitely hopeless, squalid, -dreary. As she rubbed and scrubbed on her wash-board, -life resolved itself into an endless procession of wash-days, -and tears had mingled with the sweat that fell from her -face to her bosom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Noting her red eyes, Carter was tempted to disclose -his new hope, but remembered the failure of previous -plans and refrained. As yet nothing was certain. He -would not expose her to the risk of another disappointment. -He rightly interpreted her sigh when he told her -that he would have to go down to Winnipeg on business -about the timber limits, and his heart smote him when, -looking back, he saw her standing in the door. Dejection -resided in the parting wave of her hand, utter hopelessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That lonely figure in the log doorway stuck in his -consciousness throughout his negotiations, causing him -to hustle matters in a way that simply scandalized the -Cougar's man, a banker of the old school. Yet his -hurry served rather than hurt his cause. While the -very novelty of it made him gasp, the banker was -impressed. In private he informed his moneyed partners -that such a chance and such a man rarely came together. -"He's a hustler, and the profit is there," he said, in -consultation. "A big profit. We can cut lumber ten per -cent under the railroad price and yet clear twenty-five -cents on the dollar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That settled it. Half a day later Carter was on his -homeward way, bearing with him the power to draw on -Winnipeg or Montreal for moneys necessary for supplies, -men, and teams. Running home from Lone Tree, he -whiled away the miles with thoughts of Helen's joy. -He pictured her, radiant, flushed, listening to his news, -and, quickening to the thought, he raced, full gallop, -the last mile up to his door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face burst into sunshine as, in response to his call, -he heard her cross the floor. Then his smile died, and -he stared at Mrs. Leslie. With the exception of an -occasional glimpse as they met and passed on trail, it -was the first he had seen of her since the soft summer -evening when she laid illicit love at his feet. But no -hint of that bitter memory inhered in her greeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How are you, Mr. Carter?" she cried, in her old, gay -way. "I think you are the meanest man in Silver Creek. -Married a year, and neither you nor Helen have set foot -in our house. You are a regular Blue beard. But you -needn't think that you can hide from us forever. I -just pocketed my pride, ignored your snub, and made -my third call. Yes"—she emphatically nodded her -pretty head—"the </span><em class="italics">third</em><span>, sir. But I forgive you; come -in and have some tea. Helen is down at the stables -hunting eggs to beat up a cake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Covering his vexation with some light answer, he drove -on to the stables, the life and light gone out of him, his -face the heaviest that Helen had ever seen. "She -called," she answered his abrupt question, "and I have -to entertain her." Then, piqued by his coldness, she -went on: "For matter of that, I do not see why you -should try to cut me off from her companionship! She -is the only woman I care for in the settlements!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If he had only told her! But causes light as the falling -of a leaf are sufficient to deflect the entire current of a -life, and it was perfectly natural that, in his bitter -disappointment, he also should give way to a feeling of pique. -The reason trembled to his lips, and there paused, stayed -by the resentment in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As you see fit," he answered. "Now I have to drive -over to see Bender, on business."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you wait for some tea?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. And don't wait supper. I may be late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hurt, she watched him drive away; then, as he -suddenly reined in, she dashed the tears from her eyes. -"Here's a letter for you," he called. "Got it from the -office as I came by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded in answer to Mrs. Leslie's cheery wave as -he rolled by the cabin. It was more than cold, yet, -sitting chin on hands, that lady smiled cheerfully when -Helen came up from the stable. "Don't apologize, my -dear," she laughed. "Men are </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> fools. Always -doing something to hurt their own happiness. Just banish -that rueful expression and read your letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter?" The question was called forth -by Helen's sudden cry of dismay. She glanced at the -wedding-cards that Helen offered. "Hum! Old flame -of yours, eh? These regrets will assail one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, she knit her straight brows over the enclosure. -In part, it ran: "We were so pleased to hear of -your wonderful marriage from your auntie Crandall. It -was just like you to announce the bare fact, but she told -us all about it. A railroad king! Just fancy! He must -be nice or our delicate Helen would never consent to bury -herself in the wilderness. Do you know I have been just -</span><em class="italics">dying</em><span> to see him, and now I shall, for we are passing -through your country on our way to the Orient. Which -is your station?" Followed sixteen pages of questions, -description of trousseau, and other feminine matters -which Helen reserved for future consumption.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could she have laid tongue, just then, on Auntie Crandall, -that lady had surely regretted her enlargements on -Helen's modest statement of her husband's prospects. -Lacking that easement of feeling, she cried. This visit -capped her misery, brought the long record of misfortune, -discomfort, disaster to a fitting climax.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor child!" Mrs. Leslie patted her shoulder. "But -why did you tell her such crammers? It was the good -auntie?" She tilted her nose. "For the honor of the -family, we lie, eh? Heaven help us! Your friend—what's -her name?—Mrs. Ravell—she's rich, of -course? Thought so—couldn't be otherwise—trust -the malignant fates for that. Well—" She glanced -meditatively about the cabin. Instead of lime-washing -the logs, settler fashion, Helen had left them to -darken with age, ornamenting them with a pair of -magnificent moose horns and other woodland trophies. -Tanned bear-skins covered a big lounge that ran across -one end; buffalo robes and other skins took the place of -mats on the floor. Mrs. Leslie nodded approval. "Not -bad. Quite wild-westy, in fact. You will simply have -to live up to it. You have given up your town-house -for the present and are rusticating while your hubby -directs some of his splendid schemes for the regeneration -of this section—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" Helen burst in. "I couldn't say that. It -would be—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lying? Nonsense, child! Have you a town-house? -No! Well, what are you kicking about?" Mrs. Leslie's -descent to the vernacular was as forcible as confusing. -Before Helen had time to differentiate between the -status involved by "not having a town-house" and -giving one up her temptress ran on. "That is it. You -are rusticating. Now, I can lend you some of my -things—glass, china, and so on. When do they arrive?" She -consulted the letter. "Hooray! Your husband will be -gone all next week, and they come—let me see: one, two, -three—next Friday. Couldn't be better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen blushed under her meaning glance. "No, no! -It would be wicked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?" Mrs. Leslie laughed merrily. "They -just dropped in and there's no time to send for him. -Quite simple."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I'm ashamed of him?" Helen asked, flushing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie trimmed her sails to the squall. "Certainly -not. He's a dear. You know I always liked him. -But—if your friends were to make a long stay it would -be different. You couldn't hide his light under a bushel. -But a two days' visit? What could they learn of him -in that time? The real him? They would no more -than gather his departures from the conventional. I -wouldn't expose him to unfriendly criticism. Frankly, -I wouldn't, dear, at the cost of a little fib!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The flush faded, yet Helen shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As you will." Rising, the little cynic shrugged as -she drew on her riding-gloves. "But at least take a day -to think it over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" Helen shook vigorous denial. "I shall tell -him to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was perfectly sincere in her intention, and if -Carter had returned his usual good-natured self she -would certainly have told him. But Mrs. Leslie's -presence had angered him and destroyed his native -judgment. He remembered that this was the outcome of -Helen's invitation to Mrs. Leslie at the picnic, and his -heart swelled at the thought that she should, of her -own volition, go back to friends whom she knew that -he despised. He felt the folly of his brooding, even -applied strong language to himself for being many kinds -of a fool. But his reasonable intention to open his -budget of good news on his return was never carried -out because of the coldness of her reception. Nervous -from her own news, piqued by his curt leave-taking, she -served his supper in silence or answered his few remarks -in monosyllables. Nothing was said that night, and he -retired without offering the usual kiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There he offended greatly. Her woman's unreason -would, for that, accept no excuse. So when, after -working off his own mood next morning, he came in to -breakfast, he found her still the same. Really offended, -she served him, as at the previous meal, in silence, and -as, afterwards, she went about her work, her lashes -veiled her eyes, her lips pouting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was their first real quarrel, and the very -strangeness, novelty of her mood made it charming. But -when, under urge of sudden tenderness, he tried to -encircle her waist, she drew away, and, afflicted with a -sense of injustice, he did not try again. There again he -made a mistake. Justice has no concern with love. -It is empirical, knows no law but its own. She wanted -to be taken and kissed in spite of herself, as have all -women on similar occasions, from the cave maidens down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It so happened that she was in the bedroom when he -left the house, and she did not see that he had taken -with him the bundle she had packed the preceding night. -She still intended to mention the letter. Indeed, as she -heard his step on the threshold, she thought, "He'll stop -at the door for his clothes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he did not; and hurrying out at the sound of -scurrying hoofs, she was just in time to see him vanish -behind a poplar bluff. She called, called, and called, -then sat down and wept, the more miserable because of -a secret, guilty feeling of relief.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-break"><span class="bold large">XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE BREAK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For three days a brown smoke had hovered over -the black line of distant spruce. It was far away, -fifty miles at least. Yet anxious eyes turned -constantly its way until, the evening of the fourth day, -the omen faded. Then a sigh of relief passed over the -settlements. "Back-fired itself out among the lakes," -the settlers told one another. Then, being recovered -from their scare, they invidiously reflected on the -Indian agent who permitted his wards to start fires to -scare out the deer. Nor did the fact that the agent -was blameless in the matter take from the satisfaction -accruing from their grumblings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening five persons sat with Helen at supper, -for she had invited the Leslies and Danvers, Molyneux's -farm pupil, to meet her guests. For her this meal was -the culmination of days of anxious planning. To set -out the table she and Mrs. Leslie had ransacked their -respective establishments, and she blushed when Kate -Ravell enthused over the result.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What beautiful china!" she exclaimed, picking up -one of Mrs. Leslie's Wedgwood cups. "We have -nothing like this." Then, glancing at the white napery, -crystal, and silver, she said, "Who would think that we -were two thousand miles from civilization?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was, indeed, hard to realize. Obedient to Mrs. Leslie's -orders, her husband and Danvers had fished—albeit -with reluctance—forgotten dress-suits from bottom -deeps of leather portmanteaus. She herself looked -her prettiest in a gown of rich black lace superimposed -on some white material, and, carrying her imperative -generosity to the limit, she had forced one of her own -dinner-dresses upon Helen. Of a filmy, delicate blue, it -brought out the young wife's golden beauty. From the -low corsage her slender throat and delicate face rose -like a pink lily from a violet calyx. Usually she wore -her redundant hair coiled in a thick braid around the -crown of her head for comfort; but to-night it was done -upon her neck in a loose figure of eight that revealed its -mass and sheen. Looking from Mrs. Leslie to Helen, -Kate Ravell had secretly congratulated herself upon -having, despite her husband's protest, slipped one of -her own pretty dresses into his valise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His laugh, a wholesome peal that accorded with his -good-humored face, followed her remark. "She didn't -think that at Lone Tree," he said. "A lumber-wagon -was the best the liveryman could do for us in the way -of conveyance, and when Kate asked if he hadn't a -carriage he looked astonished and scratched his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ain't but one in town,' he answered, 'an' it belongs -to Doc Ellis. 'Tain't been used sence he druv the -small-pox case down to the Brandon pest-house. I 'low -he'd let you have it.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His wife echoed his laugh. "It was a little rough, -but this—it's great!" She pointed out through the -open door over the wheat, golden under the setting sun, -to the dark green and yellow of woods and prairies. -"You are to be envied, Nell. Your house is so artistic. -The life must be ideal—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inwardly, Mrs. Leslie snorted: "Humph! If she -could see her milking, up to ankles in mud on rainy -days—or feeding those filthy calves?" Aloud, she said, -"Unfortunately, Helen isn't here very often—spends -most of her time in Winnipeg." Ignoring Helen's -pleading look, she ran on, "Did you store your things, my -dear, or let the house furnished?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus entrapped, Helen could only answer that her -goods were stored, and her embarrassment deepened -when Mrs. Leslie continued: "It is such a pity, -Mrs. Ravell, that you could not have met Mr. Carter! He -is such a dear fellow, so quiet and refined. Fred"—Leslie's -grin faded under her frown—"what is the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A crumb, my dear," he apologized. "Excuse me, please."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We shall have to return you to the nursery." Her -glance returned to Kate Ravell, and, oblivious of the -entreaty in Helen's eyes, she ran on in praise of Carter. -He was so reserved! The reserve of strength that goes -with good-nature! Resourceful—and so she flowed on -with her panegyrics. She was not altogether insincere. -Helen caught herself blushing with pleasure whenever, -leaving her fictions, Mrs. Leslie touched on some sterling -quality. Twice she was startled to hear put into words -subtilties that she herself had only felt, and on each -occasion she narrowly watched Mrs. Leslie, an adumbration -of suspicion forming in her mind. But each time -it was removed by absurd praise of hypothetical qualities -or virtues Carter did not possess. So Mrs. Leslie praised -and teased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What influenced her? It is hard to answer a question -that inheres in the complexities of such a frivolous -yet passionate nature. Naturally good-natured, she -would help Helen out in all things that did not cross her -own purposes. The sequel proves that she had not yet -got Carter out of her hot blood. Given which two things, -her action, teasings, and panegyrics are at least -understandable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are very sorry," Kate Ravell said when Mrs. Leslie -gave pause. "We did wish to see him. Do you -suppose, Helen, that we might if we stayed another day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was more than possible, but Ravell relieved Helen -of a sudden deadly fear. "Can't do it, my dear. We -are tied down by schedule. Should miss the Japan -steamer and have to lay over in Vancouver two weeks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kate sighed. Newly married, she had all of a young -wife's desire to see her girl friend happy as herself; nor -would aught but ocular demonstration satisfy the -longing. She was expressing the hope that Carter and -Helen should some day visit them in their Eastern home, -when she suddenly paused, staring out-doors. Following -her glance, Mrs. Leslie saw a man, a big fellow in -lumberman's shirt and overalls. The garments were -burned in several places, so that blackened skin showed -through. His eyes were bloodshot, his face sooty, which -accounted for Mrs. Leslie's not recognizing him at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Carter!" she exclaimed, after a second look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen was pouring tea, but she sprang up at the name, -spilling a cup of boiling tea over her wrist. She did not -feel the scald. Breathless, she stood, a hand pressed -against her bosom, until Mrs. Leslie, the always ready, -burst into merry laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a blackamoor! How you frightened us! -Where </span><em class="italics">have</em><span> you been?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coming up from the stables, Carter had heard voices, -laughter, the tinkle of teacups, and the sound had -afflicted him with something of the feeling that assails -the wanderer whose returning ears give him sounds of -revelry in the old homestead. He had suffered, during -his absence, remorse for his own obstinacy mingling in -equal proportions with the pain of Helen's coldness. -Absence had been rendered endurable by the thought -that it would make reconciliation the easier; but now -that he was returned, ready to give and ask forgiveness, -to pour his good news into her sympathetic ear, he found -her merrymaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His was a hard position. Between himself, rough, -ragged, dirty, and these well-groomed men in evening -dress, there could be no more startling contrast. He -felt it. The table, with its snowy napery, gleaming -appointments, was foreign to his sight as the </span><em class="italics">décolleté</em><span> -dresses, the white arms and necks. Yet his natural -imperturbability stood him bravely in place of -sophistication.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Been fighting fire," he answered, with his usual -deliberation. "Suppose I do look pretty fierce."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His glance moved inquiringly from the Ravells to -his wife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she still stood, eyes wide, breath issuing in light -gasps from her parted lips. For her also the moment -was full of bitterness. There was no time for thought. -She only felt—a composite feeling compounded of the -misgiving, discontent, humiliation, disappointment, -disillusionment of the last few months. It all culminated -in that moment, and with it mixed deep shame, remorse -for her conduct. Also she had regret on another score. -If she </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> told him, he would at least have been prepared, -have achieved a presentable appearance. Now she was -taken in her sin! Foul with smoke, soot, the dirt and -grime of labor, he was facing her guests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Starting, she realized that they were waiting, puzzled, -for introductions—that is, Kate was puzzled. Ravell -was busily employed taking admiring note of Carter's -splendid inches. Poor Helen! She might have been -easier in her mind could she have sensed the friendly -feeling that inhered in Ravell's cordial grip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We were just deploring the fact that we were not to -meet you, Mr. Carter," he said. "We felt sure of -finding you home after the notice we gave Mrs. Carter. We -were really quite jealous of your affairs, but now we -shall go away satisfied."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Given a duller man, the word "notice" supplied the -possibilities of an unpleasant situation. But though he -instantly remembered the letter, Carter gave no sign -till he and Helen had passed into their bedroom. Even -then he abstained from direct allusions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends of yourn?" he questioned, as she set out -clean clothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kate is an old school-fellow. Wait; I'll get you -clean towels." She bustled about, hiding her -nervousness from his gray inquisition. "They are on their -honey-moon. Going to the Orient—Japan, China, and -the island countries. They stayed off a couple of days -to see us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To see you," he corrected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She colored. Her glance fluttered away from his -grave eyes. She hurried again into speech. "Wait, -dear! I'll get you some warm water."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He refused the service, he who had loved to take -anything from her hands. "Thanks. I think the lake fits -my case. Give me the towels and I'll change down there -after my swim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The meal was finished, and she, with the others, had -carried her chair outside before he came swinging back -from the lake. He was wearing the store clothes of her -misgivings, but the ugly cut could not hide the magnificent -sweep of his limbs. She thrilled despite her misery. -As she rose to get his dinner, Mrs. Leslie also jumped up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor man, you must be famished!" she exclaimed. -"No, Helen, you are tired. Stay here and entertain the -men. Mrs. Ravell and I will wait on Mr. Carter. And -you, Mr. Danvers, may act as cookee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus saved from an uncomfortable téte-à-téte, Helen -suffered a greater misery than his accusing presence. -While chatting with Ned Ravell, her ears were strained -to catch the conversation going on inside. She listened -for Carter's homely locutions, shivering as she pictured -his primitive table manners. As a burst of laughter -followed his murmured bass, she wondered whether they -were laughing </span><em class="italics">with</em><span> or </span><em class="italics">at</em><span> him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She might have been easy, for the laugh was on -Danvers. As yet that young gentleman was still in the -throes of the sporting fever which invariably assails -Englishmen new to the frontier. Any day he might be -seen wriggling snakelike on the flat of his belly through -mud towards some wary duck, and an enthusiastic -eulogium on the shooting qualities of a new Greener gun -had drawn from Carter the story of Danvers' first kill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Prairie chicken's mighty good eating an' easy -shooting," he remarked, with a sly look at Kate Ravell. -"But nothing would satisfy his soaring ambitions but -duck. Duck for his, sirree! an' he blazed away till the -firmament hereabouts was powder-marked and riddled. -Burned up at least three tons of powder before he got -my duck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Your duck?</em><span>" Danvers protested. "Just hear him, -Mrs. Leslie. It was a wild duck that I shot down here -by the lake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter chuckled and went on with his teasing. "I -came near being called as a witness to that cruel murder, -for I was back-setting the thirty acres down by the lake -when I heard a shot an' a yell. I read it that he'd got -himself, an' was jes' going after the remains, when up he -comes on a hungry lope, gun in one hand and a mallard -in the other. The bird was that mussed up its own -mother couldn't have told it from a cocoanut door-mat. -Looked like it had made foolish faces at a Gatling; yet -he tells me that he gets the unfortunate animal at eighty -yards on the wing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know how close that old gun of mine used to -shoot," Danvers interrupted. "It was choke-bored, -Mrs. Ravell. At eighty-yards it would put every shot -inside of a three-foot circle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The feather marking looked sort of familiar to me," -Carter went calmly on. "An' he admits, on cross-examination, -that he murders this bird in front of my cabin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What of it?" Danvers eagerly put in. "Wild ducks -light any old place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it jes' happens that the confiding critter has -raised her brood in the sedges there, being encouraged -an' incited thereto by my wife, who throws it bread an' -other pickings. Taking Danvers' gun-barrel for some -new kind of worm, when he pokes it through the sedge -she sails right up and is examining the boring thereof, -when, bang! she's blown into a railroad disaster."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't believe him, Mrs. Ravell," Danvers pleaded. -"It was a wild duck, and I shot it flying."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So if the new gun's what you say it is," the tormentor -finished, "you'd better to practise on prairie chicken an' -don't be misled by Mrs. Leslie's hens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As though I couldn't tell a hen from a prairie chicken!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter joined in the laugh which Danvers' indignant -remonstrance drew from the women, yet under the -laugh, beneath his humorous indifference, lay a sad -heart. "She knew they were coming! She didn't tell -me!" Down by the lake he had reasoned the situation -out to its cruel conclusion—"She's ashamed of me!" How -it hurt! Yet the flick on the raw served him well -in that it set him on his mettle, nerved him to carry off -the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not try to transcend his limitations, to clog -himself with unfamiliar restrictions of speech or -manners. But within those limitations he did his best, and -did it so well that neither woman was conscious of social -difference. He showed none of the bashfulness which -might be expected from a frontiersman sitting for the -first time at table with fashionable women in dinner-gowns. -On the contrary, he admired the pretty dresses, -the white arms, the hands that handled the teacups so -gracefully; and when he spoke the matter so eclipsed -the manner that it is doubtful whether Kate Ravell -noticed a single locution. His shrewd common-sense, -quaint humor, the quickness with which he grasped a -new point of view, and the freshness of his own impressed -her with his strong personality. Pleased and amused, -she had no time to notice grammatical lapses or small -table gaucheries that had irritated Helen by constant -repetition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's delightful," she told her husband, in a conjugal -aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the conversation which ensued after they joined -the others outside, Carter also took no mean part. Of -things he knew, and these ranged over subjects that -were the more interesting because unfamiliar to the -town-bred folks, he spoke entertainingly; and on those -foreign to his experience he preserved silence. On every -common topic his opinion was sound, wholesome. His -keen wit punctured several fallacies. The quaint respect -of his manner to the women served him as well with the -men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Big brain," Ravell told his wife in that conference -which all married folk have held since the first pair -retired to their bedroom under the stars at the forks of -the Euphrates. "That fellow will go far."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So gentle and kind," Kate added. "I think Helen -is lucky. Those English people are nice," she went on, -musingly; "but if I were Helen I'd keep an eye on -Mrs. Leslie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she answered his surprised look, nodding -vigorously. "She is in love with Mr. Carter. How do -I know?" She sniffed. "Didn't I see her eyes—the -opportunities she made to touch him while handing him -things at supper? Helen is safe, though, so long as she -treats him properly. He doesn't care for Mrs. Leslie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his head reprovingly. "You shouldn't -make snap judgments, Kate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had he witnessed a little scene that occurred just -before the Leslies drove away! Good-byes had been -said, and Helen had gone in-doors with her guests. -Danvers, who was riding, had galloped away. Then, at -the last moment, Leslie remembered that he had left -his halters at the stable. While he ran back Carter -stood beside the rig. Brilliant northern moonlight -showed him Mrs. Leslie's eyes, dark, dilated, but he -ignored their knowledge till she spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> wouldn't have done it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Done what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His stoicism could not hide the sudden flash of pain. -She saw it writhe over his face like the quivering of -molten lead ere his features set in stern immobility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very chivalrous of you." She smiled bitterly. -"But why wear a mask with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have the advantage of me, ma'am," he stiffly -answered, and moved round to the ponies' heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leslie was now returning, but she spoke again, quickly, -eagerly, with the concentration of passion. "It is -always the way! The more we spurn you the hotter -your love, and—" She paused, then, hearing her husband's -foot-fall, whispered: "Vice versa. Remember! </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> -wouldn't have done it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After their departing rattle had died, Carter threw -himself on the grass before the house and lay, head on -clasped hands, staring up at the moon; and Helen, who -was using unnecessary time making a temporary bed, -paused and looked out from the open door. The dark -figure loomed stern and still as the marble effigy of some -crusader. There was something awful in his silence; the -soft moonlight quivered around and about him, seemed -a sorrowful emanation. Frightened, remorseful, she sat -locking and unlocking her fingers. What was he thinking?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Part of his thought was easy to divine. It would be -common to any man in his situation—the hurt pride, -jealous pain, misgiving, unhappiness, but beyond these -was an unknown quantity, the product of his own -peculiar individuality. His keen intellect had already -analyzed the cause of her shame. He was rough, crude, -unpolished! Any man might also have reached that -conclusion. It was in the synthesis, the upbuilding of -thought from that conclusion, that he branched from the -common. He was humble enough in acknowledging his -defects. Yet his natural wit showed him that humility -would not serve in these premises. Forgiveness for the -crime against his personality would not remove the cause -of the offence. Far-sighted, he saw down the vista of -years his and her love slowly dying of the same similar -offences and causes. That, at least, should never be! -He had reached a decision before she came creeping out -in her night-dress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't you coming to bed, dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sensed the remorse, sorrow, pity in her voice, but -these were not the feelings to move his resolution. Pity! -It is the anodyne, the peaceful end of love. Rising, he -stretched his great arms and turned towards the stables.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are you going?" she called, sharply, under the -urge of sudden fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To turn in on the hay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She ran and caught his arm, and turned her pale face -up to his. "Why? I have made our bed on the couch. -Won't you come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" she reiterated. "Oh, why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because it is shame to live together when love has -fled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She clasped his arm with both hands. "Oh, don't say -that! How </span><em class="italics">can</em><span> you say it? Who says I do not love you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yourself." His weary, hopeless tone brought her -tears. "In love there is no shame, an' you was ashamed -of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did mean to tell you." Desperate, she caught his -neck. How valuable this love was becoming, now she -felt it slipping from her! "I did! But you went away -without saying good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was opportunity, plenty. You could have -sent for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His sternness set her trembling. "Then—I thought—I -thought—they were only to be here for one day. Such -a short visit. I thought they might misjudge—I didn't -want to expose you to hostile criticism."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've said it. Love knows no fear. Good-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!—please—</span><em class="italics">don't</em><span>!" she called after him, as he -strode away. Pity, woman's weakness, the conservative -instinct that makes against broken ties, these were all -behind her cry, and his keen sensibility instantly detected -them. He closed the stable door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>According to the canons of romance, it would have -been very proper for that jarring echo to have unstoppered -the fountains of her love and all things would have -come to a proper ending. But, somehow, it did not. -After a burst of crying into her lonely pillow, she lay -and permitted her mind to hark back over her married -life. Hardship, squalor, suffering, misfortune passed in -review till she gained back to the days when Molyneux -had also paid her court. What share had anger and -pique in affecting her decision? Angry pride was, just -then, ready to yield them the larger proportion. Later -came softer memories. She was troubled as she thought -of his generous kindness. Under the thought affection, -if not love, revived, and conscience permitted no sleep -until she promised to beg forgiveness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, circumstance robbed her of the opportunity. -Before the Ravells retired, Carter had said good-bye, as -he intended to start back for the woods before sunrise. -"You needn't to get up, either," he had told her. "I'll -take breakfast with Bender." But now she promised -herself that she would rise, get him a hot meal, and then -make her peace. But at dawn she was awakened by his -wheels, and, running to the door, she was just in time to -see him go by. She would have called only, as the cry -trembled to her lips, his words of the night before -recurred to memory—"Marriage without love is -shame!" Suddenly conscious of her night-gear, she shrank as a -young girl would from the eye of a stranger, and the -chance was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell him when he returns," she murmured, blushing.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But he did not return; and two days later Bender -and Jenny Hines drove up to the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the neatly dressed girl, with hair done on top of -her head, it was difficult, indeed, to recognize the -forlorn creature whom Bender had picked up on that night -trail. Though she was still small—a legacy from her -drudging years—she had filled and rounded out into -a becoming plumpness. Her pale eyes had deepened, -were full of sparkle and color. Two years ago she would -have been deemed incapable of the smile she turned on -Helen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so glad to see you, Mrs. Carter; an' I'm to stay -with you all winter while your husband's up at the camp. -The doctor didn't want to let me go," she said, not -noting Helen's surprise, "an' he wouldn't to any one but -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The camp? What camp?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Jenny's turn to stare. As for Bender, he gaped, -while his colors rivalled those of a cooked beet. Sweating -under her questions, he looked off and away to escape -the spectacle of her white misery as he explained Carter's -new enterprise and its glorious possibilities. He finished -with an attempt at comfort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't surprised that he didn't tell you. I allow he -was going to spring it on you all hatched and full-fledged. -Me an' Jenny here was real stupid to give it away. Might -just as well have said as she'd come on a little visit. I -allow he'll be hopping mad at the pair of us. An' now -I'll have to be going after the Cougar. He'll do the -chores till we kin get you a hired man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the fiction eased the situation, it deceived neither -her nor them. Having, a week later, delivered the new -hired man, a strong young Swede, Bender delivered his -real opinion with dubious head-shakings while carting -the Cougar away. "Don't it beat hell, Cougar? Him -that straight an' good, her that sweet an' purty, yet they -don't hitch. It's discouraging."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," the cynic grunted, "take warning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender eyed him wrathfully. "Now what in hell do -you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he blushed under the Cougar's meaning glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I reckon he'll drop in on his way up," Bender had -assured Helen. But he did not. She yet allowed herself -to hope—hoped on while the weeks drew into months, -each of which brought a check for household expenses. -Soon the snows blanketed the prairies; heavy frost vied -with the cold at her heart; and he had not come. -Jenny's reticence kept the truth from leaking out; but -such things may not be hid, and about Christmas-time -it was whispered through the settlements that Carter -had left his wife.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-camp"><span class="bold large">XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CAMP</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That was a hard winter. From five feet of snow -the settlements thrust up, grim, ugly blotches on -the whiteness. And it was very cold. Once the spirit -dropped down, down, down to seventy-two below zero—one -hundred and four degrees of frost. Fifty was normal, -forty, rather warm. Also it stormed, and when the -blizzard cut loose, earth, air, or sky was not merged in -blanched chaos.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nestling snugly in the heart of the spruce, Carter's -camp, however, was free of the blizzard. Let the forest -heave to upper air-currents, tossing skeleton branches -with eerie creakings, yet the gangs worked in comfort, -cutting and hauling logs, while outside a hundred-mile -wind might be herding the drifts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By New Year's his work was well in hand. Eight -million feet of logs lay on the ice, filling Silver Creek -bankful like a black flood for a long half-mile. Not that -this had been accomplished without friction. Such -jettison of humanity as drifts to a lumber-camp does not -shake down to work in a day. From earth's four -corners a gallows crew of Swedes, French, Russians, Irish, -Canadians, Yankees drifted in, and for one month -thereafter internecine war raged in the bunk-houses. Then, -having bit, gouged, and kicked itself into some sort of a -social status, the camp concentrated upon the boss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The choppers, strangers to him, soon took his measure. -A swift answer to a mutinous glance, an order quietly -drawled, and the relation was duly fixed. But it was -different with the teamsters. They, with their teams, -were all drawn from the settlements and knew him -personally or by report. Even Hines had condescended to -accept three dollars a day and board at the hand of his -enemy. But than this no man can greater offend against -his neighbors—to rise superior in the common struggle -for existence. From them he obtained no credit for the -initiative which had conjured the camp out of nothing. -Now that it was in full swing, each man felt that he could -have done the trick himself. A man may have no honor -in his own country; so, as always was, always will be, -they, the weak, snarled at him, the strong carrying their -envious spite to the length of trying to kill the goose -which was laying the golden egg. Though the money -earned this winter would make an easy summer, they -struck at the source of supply—wasted his fodder, tipped -over his sleds, cast logs off to lighten their loads, -manifested their jealousy in a hundred mean ways.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The matter of the fodder he easily corrected. -Discovering the teams one evening bedded to their bellies -with his choicest hay, he sent for Bender, who expressed -himself profanely over the waste.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If this keeps up we'll be out of hay an' a job in -another month," Carter said. "What's got into them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Search me," the giant foreman answered. "They -know a heap better. Pure malice, I reckon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Got a good man in your gang?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Big Hans, the loader. He's licked every man in his -outfit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, put him in charge of the stables, with fifty -cents a day raise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't need the raise," Bender suggested. "He'd -sooner fight than eat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, give it to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Events justified the expenditure. At the end of a -week it were, indeed, difficult to locate a feature of Big -Hans's face—to distinguish nose from cheek or discover -his mouth. But beyond this uncertainty of visage there -was nothing undecided about Hans. He had worked -steadily through the teamsters and come out on top. -The waste stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The derelict logs and loads were not so easily settled. -Once, sometimes twice, a month business called Carter -to Winnipeg, and, though Bender ruled the camp with -an iron fist, one pair of eyes cannot keep tab on fifty -teamsters. Driving in one evening, Carter counted -fifteen cast-off loads between the dumps and the skidways. -The last lay within three hundred yards of the skids, -where a halloo would have brought the Cougar—loading -boss—and a dozen men to the teamster's aid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was the last straw. Through gray obscurity of -snowy dusk Carter stared at the dark mass as though it -incarnated the mulish obstinacy which dogged his -enterprise. Perhaps it did, to him, for he muttered: "I'm -real sorry for you. Must have troubled you some to -make back to the stables. Guess you wasn't late for -supper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vexed, indignant, he drove slowly by the skidways, -where the sleds stood loaded for the morning trip. -Enormous affairs, built on his own plans, fourteen feet -across the bunks, they were loaded squarely with four -tiers of logs, then ran up to a single log. In the gloom -they loomed like hay-stacks, and a stranger to the -woods would have sworn that no single team could start -one. But they ran on rounded runners over iced tracks, -and Carter knew that they were not overloaded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No kick there," he muttered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Farther on a rise in the trail gave him a view of the -camp across a wide slough: a jumble of log buildings -that shouldered one another over the inequalities of a -narrow, open strip between slough and forest. Under -the rising moon the sod roofs, flat and snow-clad, -gleamed faintly. Patches of yellow, frosted windows blotched -the mass of the walls. Beyond, dark spruce towered -against the sky-line. It spread, that gloomy mantle of -spruce, illimitable as night itself, northward to the -frozen circle, its vast expanse unbroken by other centre -of warmth and light. Solitary splash of life, the camp -emphasized the profundities of environing space, -accentuated their loneliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reining in, Carter gazed thoughtfully at this, the work -of his hands. The clear air gave him many voices. He -could hear Big Hans swearing quaintly in the stables. -A teamster sang on his way to the cook-house. An -oblong of brighter yellow flashed out of a mass. That -was the cook-house door opening to admit the singer. -Came a murmur and clatter of dishes; then light and -sound vanished. Suddenly, far off, a long howl troubled -the silence. Wild, mournful, tremulous, it was -emblematic of his problem. Here, a hundred miles beyond -the stretch of the law's longest finger, the law of the -wolf pack still obtained—only the strong hand could rule.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The howl also signalled his arrival at a conclusion. -"They're at supper," he muttered. "I'll tackle them -there an' now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First he went to the office, a rough log-hut which he -shared with Bender. The giant lay, smoking, in his -bunk, but he sprang up at Carter's news. "An' I busted -the head of the Russian on'y yesterday for pitching off -a load! Who's at the bottom of it? Now you've got -me. Michigan Red's as mean as any. Jes' this morning -he busted two whiffle-trees running, an' I happened along -jes' in time to save the third. Of course, his runners was -froze down hard, an' him snapping his heavy team like -all get out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'From your looks,' I says to him, 'I'd have allowed -you'd sense enough to loosen your bobs!' He on'y -grinned. 'Clean forgotten, boss. Kick that hinter -bunker, will you?' That man," Bender finished, "has -gall enough to fix out a right smart tannery."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter frowned. The man, a red-haired, red-bearded -fellow, with a greenishly pale face and cold, bleak eyes, -had come in from the wheat settlements about the -Prairie Portage, driving a huge team of blacks. The -one, a stallion, rose sixteen and a half hands to the crest -of his swelling shoulder. Reputed a man-killer, he -wore an iron muzzle in stable or out. His mate, a -rat-tailed mare, equally big, differed only in the insignia -of wickedness, wearing a kicking-strap in harness, -a log-chain in the stable. Man and team were well mated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If he'd make his pick on me!" Bender growled on, -"'twould have been pie-easy. I'd have smashed him -one, an' you could have handed out his walking-papers. -But no! It's you he's laying for. 'Your boss ain't -big enough to do it,' he says, when I tell him that -there'll be other things than busted whiffle-trees if -he don't look out. 'You're a privileged character -till I'm through with him.' An' that's just the way -of it. He'll swallow all I kin give him while waiting -for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's nod confirmed Bender's reasoning. No one -else could play his hand in this game of men. The giant -had deferred to that unwritten law of the woods which -reads that every man must win his own battles. "Know -anything of him?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cougar ran acrost him once in Michigan. Don't lay -no stress on his character, but says he's mighty good -with his hands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, come along to the cook-house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they opened the cook-house door a hundred men -looked up from the three tables which ran the length -of the long log-hut. These bristled with tinware, and -between them and the stove three cookees ran back -and forth with smoking platters of potatoes, beans, and -bacon. At the upper end a reflector lamp shed a bright -light over the cook and his pots; but tables were dimly -lighted by candles stuck upright at intervals in their -own grease. Their feeble flicker threw red shirts and -dark, hairy faces into Rembrandt shadow. Hot, oily, -flushed from fast and heavy eating, intensely animal, -they peered through the reek of steaming food at Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>'"I won't keep you a minute," he answered the resentment -which his interruption had called to all the faces. -"I jes' want to say that too many logs have been -dumped by the trail of late. Now if any teamster -thinks that the loaders are stacking it on him, he can -report to the foreman, who'll see him righted. But if, -after this—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More beans!" A laugh followed the harsh interruption. -The faces turned to Michigan Red. When the -others paused he had continued eating, and now, his -greenish face aglow with insolence, he was holding an -empty platter out to the nearest cookee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a difficult situation. There was no mistaking -his intent, yet the interruption was timed so cunningly -as to leave no actual cause of offence. Behind Carter, -Bender bristled with rage, ready to sweep casuistical -distinctions aside with his fist. Malignantly curious, the -faces turned back to Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited quietly till the red teamster was served; -paused even then, for, as the latter fell to his eating, -shovelling beans into his mouth with knife loaded the -length of the blade, Carter experienced an uncomfortable -twinge of memory. The squared elbows, nimble knife, -bent head grossly caricatured himself in the first days -of his marriage, and vividly recalled Helen's gentle -tutelage. For a second he saw himself with her eyes, then -pride thrust away the vision.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After this"—he began where he had left off—"any -teamster who dumps a load without permission or -good cause will be docked time and charged for his -board."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More pork!" It was the red teamster again. Resting -an elbow on the table while he held out the plate -behind him, he permitted his bleak glance to wander -along the grins till it brought up on Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Choking with anger, Bender stepped, but Carter laid -a hand on his arm while he spoke to the cook. "This -man has a tape-worm. Send him the pot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Blunt and to the point, the answer exactly suited -lumberman primitive humor. As the door closed behind -them Bender's chuckles echoed the men's roaring laugh. -"Fixed him that time," he commented. "But he come -back right smart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't come too soon. It all helps to fill in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender sensed the sadness in his tone, and the big -heart of him was troubled. These months past he had -seen Carter pile task on task, seeking an anodyne for -unhappiness in ceaseless toil. Every night the office -lights burned unholy hours. Waking this particular -night, long after twelve, Bender saw that Carter was -still at his desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Time you hired a book-keeper," he remonstrated. -"Trail you are travelling ends in the 'sylum."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Book-keeper couldn't do this work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No?" Bender sat up. "What's the brand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Figuring—grading contrac's, bridges, trestles, timbering."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A railroad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender snorted. "Shore! You ain't surely calculating -on the C.P.'s building the branch?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The monosyllable discouraged further questioning, -but Bender stuck to his main objection. "Well, if you -keep this gait you'll railroad yourself into the graveyard. -It is two now; at five you'll be out with the loaders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Correct."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The giant straightened up in his bunk. "Good God, -man! Don't you never sleep?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll sleep to-morrow night. Now, shut up!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Growling, Bender subsided, and long after he had slid -again into the land of dreams, Carter stared at the -opposite wall with eyes that gave him neither the bales, -boxes, ranged along its length, nor the shirts, socks, -overalls, and other lumbermen's supplies on the rough -shelving. He saw only Helen's flower face blossoming -out of the blackness of the far corner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The replica of himself that he had seen that night in -Michigan Red was but the climax of similar, if milder, -experiences. Naturally enough, his Winnipeg trips had -brought him in contact with people of more or less -refinement. He met them at hotels, or in the parlors of -his business acquaintances when, as sometimes happened, -they invited him to dinner. Such circumstances had -simply forced him to set a guard on his speech and -manners—to imitate those about him. There had been -nothing slavish in his imitation—no subtraction from the -force of his personality. It was rather the grafting of -the strong, wild plant with the fruit of hot-house culture. -It inhered in a dawning realization that manners, -courtesy, social customs were based on consideration for -others' happiness, besides being pleasant of themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not that he was ready to admit the fact as sufficient -excuse for Helen's treatment of himself. Hurt pride -forbade. "She didn't give me a chance," he murmured. -"I'd have come to it—in time. She was ashamed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet each concession to social custom became an argument -for her, and was turned against him in the nightly -conflict between pride, passion, love, and reason. Often -love would nearly win. While her face smiled from the -corner, love would whisper: "She is yours. Six hours' -ride will take you to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But pride always answered, "Wait till she sends for -you." And he would turn again to his figuring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For pride had enlisted ambition in its aid. Long ago -his clear sight had shown him the need of a competing -railroad, and gradually a scheme had grown upon him. -What man had done, man could do. If a great trunk -road could develop from the imagination of one man, a -transverse line that should strike south and find an -outlet on the American border could hatch from the -brain of another. He would build it himself. Already -he had broached the matter to his financial backers, and -they had given it favorable consideration—more, were -interesting other capitalists in the project. So, in camp, -on trail, his every spare moment was given to the -working out of construction estimates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only once was his resolution shaken. From Lone Tree -the camp "tote" trail slid due northeast, passing the -settlements a half-dozen miles to the east. Save on this -one occasion, when the need of men and teams caused -him to take the other, he always used the "tote" trail. -And even this time he did not dally in the settlements. -Having advertised his need at the Assiniboin mission, -Flynn's, and the post-office, he headed up for the camp -as dusk blanketed the prairies. Dark brought him to -his own forks, where, reining in, he gazed long at a -yellow blotch on the night, his own kitchen light. A -five-minute trot would put him with her! Love urged -go! Pride said nay! And while they battled his ponies -shivered in the bitter wind. He waited, waited, waited. -Which would have won out will never be known, for -presently a cutter dashed out of the gloom, swung round -on his trail, and, as he turned out to let it by, he caught -voices, Helen's and Mrs. Leslie's, in lively chatter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaning over, he lashed his ponies, raced them into -the camp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that he turned with renewed assiduity to his -figures. Still, they are dry things, matters of intellect, -useless for the alleviation of feeling. One emotion -requires another for its cure, and the trouble with Michigan -Red promised more forgetfulness than could be obtained -from the most intricate calculations. That is why he -had said, "He can't come back too soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He quickened at the thought of the coming struggle. -In himself the red teamster embodied the envy, spite, -disaffection which, from the first, had clogged Carter's -enterprise. He materialized the vexatious forces, -impalpable things that Carter had been fighting, and he -felt the relief which comes to the man who at last drives -a mysterious enemy out to the open.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-red-teamster"><span class="bold large">XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE RED TEAMSTER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As Bender prophesied, Michigan Red came back -"right smartly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The following Sunday was one of those rare winter -days when the mercury crawls out of its ball sufficiently -to register a point or two. At noon the silver column -indicated only four below zero, and, accustomed to sterner -temperatures, the men lolled about the camp bare-headed -and shirt-sleeved. One hardy group was running -a poker game on a blanket under the sunny lea of a -bunkhouse; the younger men, choppers and teamsters, -skylarked about the camp essaying feats of strength: some -tossed the caber, others put the shot, a third squad startled -the forest with the platoon fire of a whip-cracking -contest. Standing in his doorway, the cook, autocrat of the -camp, remarked patronizingly on the latter performance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty fair," he judicially observed, as one young -fellow raised the echoes—"pretty fair, Carrots, but -Sliver there has you beat. Needn't to look so cocky, -though, Sliver," he qualified his praise, "or I'll call up -Michigan to teach you how to crack a whip."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, shucks! I ain't scared o' him," Sliver grinned. -Then, rising to his slim height, he writhed body and arm -and let forth a veritable </span><em class="italics">feu de joie</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would, would you?" the cook warned. "Here, -Red!" he called to the gamblers. "Get up an' give this -kid a lesson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You go plumb to—" The location was drowned by -Sliver's second volley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come, Red!" the cook urged. "This kid makes -me tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The red teamster went on playing, and would, no -doubt, have indefinitely continued the game but that, -looking up to curse the importunate cook, he saw the -stable roustabout interestedly watching the whip-crackers. -A man in years, the latter was a child in intellect, -simple to the point of half-wittedness. Picking him up, -starving, in Winnipeg, Carter had brought him up to the -camp early in the winter, and ever since he had served -as a butt for the camp's jokes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Michigan rose. "Lend me your whip, Carrots!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you'll see!" the cook confidently affirmed, as -the long lash writhed about Michigan's head. Exploding, -it sent a trail of echoes coursing through the forest. -As is the pop of a pistol to the roar of a cannon, so was -his volley compared to that of Sliver. Then, to prove -himself in accuracy, Michigan snapped a fly from the -cook's bare arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A trifle close," he exclaimed, rubbing the spot. "Do -it ag'in, Red, an' I cut out your Sunday pudding."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grinning, Michigan swung again, turned, as the lash -writhed in mid-air, and cracked it explosively within an -inch of the roustabout's ear. "Stan' still, you son of a -gun!" he swore, as the poor simpleton flinched. "Keep -him in, boys. Stan' still, or I'll take it clean off nex' -crack.... Now we'll play you've a fly on the tip of -your nose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The play was too realistic, drawing a spot of blood. -Yelling with pain, the roustabout swore, begged, pleaded -piteously to be let alone. But a circle of grinning -teamsters hedged him in on all sides save where the red -teamster stood with his whip. Man, in the aggregate, is -always cruel. Let a few hundred blameless citizens, -fathers of families, husbands, brothers, be gathered -together and flicked with passion's whip, and you have a -mob equal to the barbarities of Caligula. And these -men were raw, wild as the woods. Shoving the -simpleton back whenever he tried to break, they stood -grinning while Michigan cut cracking circles about his head. -Sometimes his hair moved under the wind of the lash; -sometimes it grazed his nose. There was no telling -where it would explode. He could not dodge it. -Trying, the whip drew blood from his neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stan' still, then!" the red teamster answered his yell -of pain. "I ain't responsible for your cavortings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Spoiling Red's aim!" the cook admonished, severely. -"I never seed your like!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now open your mouth wide," the tormentor went on. -"I'm agoin' to put the tip in your mouth without -techin' your lips—if you don't move. Open wide!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the man's small wits were now completely gone. -He opened his mouth obediently, then, uttering a scream, -a raucous, animal cry, he sprang at his tormentor. But -a dozen hands seized and dragged him back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold him, boys! I'll skin the tip of his nose for -that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Michigan swung his whip the roustabout sent forth -scream on scream. Foam gathered on his lips. Terror -had driven him insane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" the cook remonstrated. "That's enough, -Red—that's enough!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unheeding, the teamster took aim, swung, then—another -lash tangled in his. Yelling with the sudden -pain of a twisted wrist, he swung round on Carter. -Unobserved, he had run across from his office, snatched -up Sliver's whip, tangled Michigan's lash, and jerked it -over his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Boys"—he now faced the flushed crowd—"I don't -allow to mix up with your fun, but what do you call this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One glance at the bloody weal on the roustabout's -neck and the brutal mob resolved into its individual -components, each a unit of sorrow for its share in the -torture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jest a poor fool at that." Carter laid his hand on -the simpleton's shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shore, shore! Yes!" the cook agreed. "It's too bad. -We didn't go to do that. No. We jest calculated to -have a little fun, an' carried it a leetle too far."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's so! That's so!" Carrots, Smith, and Sliver -all seconded the cook, all voicing repentant public -opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Red didn't go to do that," the cook continued. -"He moved. Red didn't mean it; did you, Red?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that one yell of pain the red teamster's eyes -had glued to a handspike which lay near by. But the -useless wrist checked the impulse, and he stood, sullenly -noting changed opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this a Sunday-school?" he answered, sneering. -"Or mebbe a Young Folks' Christian Endeavor? Sliver, -what's the golden text?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, shore, Red!" Sliver remonstrated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's this." Carter looked round the group. "Any -man who lays a hand on this poor lad again gets his -time." His glance fixed on Michigan Red.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The red teamster shrugged. His chance had gone by, -and he was acute enough to recognize the fact. Not -that he lacked courage or strength to try it out, man -for man—bite, gouge, kick, in the brutal fashion of the -lumber woods. Taken by surprise, he had lost his -vantage, and now saw that his adversary had cleverly -ranged against him an adverse opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not him I'm laying for," he growled. "Some -other day!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The "other day" came a week later. Entering the -stables at noon in search of Brady, the water-hauler, -Carter saw the red teamster perched on the top rail of -the black stallion's stall, in his hand the iron muzzle -which he had unstrapped that the brute might feed with -ease. As the beast snapped, rather than ate, his oats, -he cast vicious, uneasy glances from the tail of his eye -at Red; but, indifferent to the brute's mood and the -anxious glances of his fellows, the teamster calmly -chewed his tobacco.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was by just such tricks that he had gained -ascendency over his fellows. Whereas it was worth another -man's life to step into their stall, the blacks would stand -and sweat in rage and fear while Michigan slapped and -poked their ribs. The devil in the beasts seemed to -recognize a superior in the pale-green fiend in the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brady here?" Carter asked. "Oh, there you are!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood immediately behind the stallion, and as he -spoke Michigan brought the iron muzzle down with a -thwack an the brute's ribs. Snorting, it lashed out, -just missing Carter. One huge, steel-shod heel, indeed, -passed on either side of his head. Under such circumstances -a start was a little more than justifiable; yet -after that tribute to surprise Carter stepped quietly -beyond range and went on talking to Brady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This afternoon you can hitch to the water-cart an' -ice the track in to them new skidways."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, turning, he eyed Michigan Red. "That's a -techy beast of yourn, friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Techy?" Michigan sneered. "There ain't another -man in this camp as kin put the leathers on him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" Swinging his heels against the stall, Michigan -added, "Not a damned man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Picking up a spear of hay, Carter chewed it while he -looked over the beast, now foaming with rage. It was -a dare. He knew it—saw also the amused interest in -the on-lookers. They felt Michigan had him in the door. -"The leathers," he remarked, "are on him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a skilful move, throwing the initiative back to -the teamster. Not one whit fazed, however, he -exclaimed, in mock surprise, "Why, damme, so they -are!" Sliding down, he laid a hand on the stallion's crest. -Instantly the brute ceased his plunging, uneasy stepping, -and while the man stripped off the harness only long, -slow shivers told of smothered fury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There you are!" He threw collar and harness at -Carter's feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, boss!" Brady remonstrated, as Carter -picked them up. "I wouldn't go to do it. Shure I -wouldn't. The baste is a man-killer be Red's own -word. Luk at him for the proof."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ears laid flat to his neck, glossy hide shivering, the -whites of his eyes showing viciously, chisel teeth -protruding through grinning lips, the stallion's appearance -bore out his reputation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wouldn't!" a dozen teamsters chorused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unheeding, Carter entered the stall. As he ranged -alongside, the stallion tried to rear, but was snapped -back by his halter-chain. So foiled, he humped his -shoulders, dropping his head between his knees; then, -just when the teamsters expected to see the sixteen -hundred pounds of him grind Carter against the stall, -he suddenly straightened and stood still as before, save -for the slow shivers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother of God!" Brady exclaimed. "What 'll that mane?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's hand rested on the beast's crest. What did -it mean? Only the red teamster knew. But whether -the animal shook to the memory of some torture, or -merely mistook the firm hand for that of his master, he -moved but once while Carter adjusted and buckled the -harness. That was at the cinching of the bellyband; -but he quickly quieted. The click of the breeching-snaps -sounded like breaking sticks through the stable, -and as he stepped out from the stall a score of breaths -issued in one huge sigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now hurry, Brady," he said. "The job will keep -you humping till sundown."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Respectful glances followed him away from the stable. -He had touched his men in a vulnerable spot, and though, -hereafter, they might growl and grumble—the lumberman's -sole relaxation—he could count on a fair amount -of obedience from all but such malingerers as Shinn and -Hines, or a natural anarchist like Michigan Red. The -latter took on the yoke of authority only to defy it; -and though even his bleak face lit up as sunlight -struggles through frost of a winter's morning, he soon found -cause for further trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dropping into the smith's shop a few days later, -Carter found Seebach, the German smith, ruefully -contemplating a half-dozen disabled sleds. "Herr Gott!" -he exclaimed. "In one half-day these haf come in. -Alretty yet I works like t'ree tefils, an' this iss the -leedle games they play on me. It is that you gifs me a -helper or I quit—eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Too surprised to laugh over the other's ludicrous -anger, Carter puzzled over the breakage. As aforesaid, -the sleds had been built on his own plans to carry -enormous loads. To four-by-six runners, shod with an -inch of steel, hardwood bunkers a foot square were -fastened with solid iron knees braced with inch -iron. Every bolt and pin was on the same massive plan. -The best of a dozen patterns of as many logging-camps -had gone into the making of those sleds. Yet, though -they ought to have been good for twenty tons oh the -roughest kind of a road, they were racked, split, or -twisted, bunkers torn off, ironwork on all badly sprung.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter whistled. "How did they do it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brady, he says it vas the new roat into the pridge -timbers. In one place it goes like hell over a pank down -to a lake, with a quick turn at the pottom. 'The Pig -Glide,' Brady calls it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll go out an' look at it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A half-hour's walk brought him to the hill. Debouching -from heavy timber, the trail inclined for two hundred -yards, then sheered down at an angle of forty-five -degrees to a lake below. As the smith had said, an abrupt -turn at the bottom added to the trail's difficulties. Too -steep for ice-sledding, hay had been spread over the face -of the hill, and with this to ease the descent Carter -could see no reason for the broken sleds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man had been told off to respread the hay after -each passage, and he grinned at Carter's question. -"Bust 'em here? You bet! How? Well, they come -down on a gallop. Teams is coming now, so if you set -down in the scrub there you'll see 'em do it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was as he said. One after the other the teams -emerged from the forest, gathered speed on the incline, -and came flying down the hill, the great sleds cracking -and groaning under the strain of enormous loads as they -skidded around the bottom turn. Michigan Red came -last, and Carter's anger could not altogether drown a -thrill as he watched the red teamster take the hill. -Whooping, whip-cracking, blacks stretched on the gallop, -he tore down that plumb hill-side and skidded round the -turn, load balanced on one runner. It split, with a -pistol report, but the steel shoe held and he passed -safely on and down the lake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was the first to cut loose," the trackman -explained. "T'others followed his dare."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, they'll have to quit it. Warn each man, Joe, -an' report all to me that disobey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, that evening, Joe reported that all but Michigan -Red had obeyed the order, he sensed hot anger under the -boss's calm. Expecting an explosion, he was the more -surprised when, after a thoughtful pause, Carter -dismissed him with an order to take a couple of -hand-rakes out on the job the following morning. To the -Cougar he gave orders that the red teamster was to load -last. Obedient, the Cougar sent Michigan Red to break -track into a new skidway; thus all of his fellows had -passed on down the glide while Michigan was still -loading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Load him light—dry logs, an' not too many," Carter -had ordered. But, incensed at the delay, the teamster -indulged in such sarcastic allusions to the frailty of the -loaders' female ancestors that the ribald crew piled the -logs on till his load bulked like a hay-stack. None other -than the blacks could have started the sled out from the -skids; and while, with jerks and sudden snatches, the -fierce brutes worked it out of deep snow to the iced -tracks, the loaders looked admiringly on. It was a -triumph in driving. Man and team worked like a clock, -and, returning blasphemous answers to the loaders' -compliments, Michigan slid off down the trail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To make up for his lost time, he urged the blacks to a -trot, and so came swinging down the incline at twice his -usual speed. Not till he reached the very edge did he -see that the hay had been raked off the face of the hill. -A mask of ice, it glittered in the sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half-way down Carter stood with Joe. Looking up, -they saw Michigan poised on the top log, a red, sinister -figure against the sky. He seemed to pause, throw back -on his lines—a quick, involuntary movement. Then, -craning forward, he glanced down that glittering stretch—a -comprehensive look that took in Carter, Joe, and -their plan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give him a forkful under the runners as he goes by," -Carter whispered. "Otherwise we'll kill his team."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A second, as aforesaid, the red teamster paused; then, -loosing his lines, he leaned over and lashed the stallion -under the soft of the belly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" Joe cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw the black brute rear, snorting—saw the -blacksnake bite the mare's flank—saw the pair plunge over -the grade; then water bathed his eyes. He heard, -however—heard the rush and roar, a thunder of hoofs as the -long, steel calkings cut through the ice and struck fire -from the face of the hill. He felt the wind as the sled -passed, and waited for the crash—which did not come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A voice, cold, deliberate, restored his vision. "I -didn't think it was in horse-flesh." Carter was gazing -after team and sled, now a black patch on the snow of -the lake. "Beat us this time, Joe," he continued; "but -we'll fix him to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, however, the red teamster enjoyed the -fruits of his exploit. It seasoned the beans at supper, -sweetened the stable choring. Opinion agreed that it -was now "up" to the boss, but split on his probable -action, one-half the stable agreeing with Hines that -Michigan surely earned his discharge, the other half -holding that settlement by battle would be the certain -ending. Neither event, however, had come to pass by -bedtime, and the mystery was intensified by the -chucklings of the road gang, which came in from work long -after the teamsters retired. Next morning, too, the -loaders—evidently in the secret—added to the suspense -by asking the teamsters if they intended to toboggan -down the glide that trip.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet you don't!" they yelled after Michigan Red.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though not exactly nervous, the mystery yet affected -the red teamster. As his load slid through the forest -uneasiness manifested itself in thoughtful whistlings, -broken song snatches, unnecessary talk to his horses. -Not that he was a whit afraid. The half-dozen or so -men whom he expected would try to enforce the new -order could not have prevented him from at least sending -his team at the grade. The fierce soul of him thrilled -at the thought of opposition, and, coming out of the -forest, he set a pace that would have ridden down -opposition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he reined in at the hill. Instead of the force of -his imaginings, only Joe Legault stood at the foot of the -glide. The hay had been respread on its face, but—the -road gang had built a rough bridge over a deep gully, -and now the glide led, straight as an arrow, out to the -lake. The racking curve was utterly abolished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grinning, Joe said: "The boss allows that it's your -privilege to kill your own horses. So go it if you -wanter. Hain't going to hurt his sleds none."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Michigan walked his horses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter had won out. Moreover, he had done it without -the loss of prestige that would have ensued by the -usual brutal methods in vogue in lumber-camps. Law, -of a man or people, cannot endure, of course, without -force behind it. Yet behind his imperturbability, quiet -taciturnity, the men felt the power to enforce his -commands. So his authority was no more called in question. -Not that envious spite ceased to dog him. Hines, Shinn, -and their coterie stood always ready to stir up discontent, -foment trouble.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was their sympathy that caused the cook to -maintain one can of poor baking-powder to be valid excuse -for leaving. But Carter disposed of minor troubles with -the same easy good-humor that he had given to big ones.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I reckon you've been scandalously mistreated," he -told the cook. "I'm right sorry to lose you. Must you -go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mollified, the cook stayed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Baldy, chief of the "tote"-trail teamsters, rose -to the point that "thirty hun'red was load enough for -drifted trails."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thirty it is, Baldy," Carter cheerfully answered, and -Baldy yanked forty and forty-five hundred all winter -over the worst of trails.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had proved himself in the mastership of men just -at the time that opportunity was holding out her hand, -and proof and fruit of his winning came the very day -that saw the last load delivered at the dumps. "It is a -go!" The wire which announced, with this bit of slang, -the successful financing of his railroad projects was -brought in by Baldy from Lone Tree, and with it -buttoned against his heart Carter made his way to the -stables where the teamsters were, as they thought, -bedding up for the last time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have feed for three months left," he said, "and -I can promise work through the summer. At what?" He -turned, smiling, on Brady. "Never mind; all those that -want it kin have it till freeze-up. In the mean time I'll -feed an' care for your teams till the log-drive is down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grumblers from the cradle, kickers born, teamsters -and choppers had looked forward to this last day in -camp, swearing all that ten dollars a day would not hire -them for an hour longer. No, sirree—not an hour! Now -they looked their doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the pay?" Brady asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Half a dollar a day more'n you're getting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That beats farming in these parts. You kin sign me, boss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And me—me—me! The answers floated in from all -over the stable. Only a few of the older men elected to -return to their farms, and after all had spoken Carter -turned to Michigan Red, who occupied his old perch on -the stallion's stall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Red?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't s'pose you'd need me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter went on writing. He could afford to be -generous. He had beaten the man at every point; to retain -him where another would have discharged him was, -indeed, the crowning of his victory, and Michigan knew it. -Had he doubted, he had but to read it in the countenances -of his fellows. A good gambler, however, he hid -resentment, and where a poor loser would have taken -his discharge he accepted re-employment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His red beard split in a sneering grin. "Oh, guess I'll -trouble you for a little longer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The day was eventful for another reason. Coming up -from a short visit to the settlements, Bender handed -Carter a letter that evening, the superscription of which -sent the dark blood flooding over his neck, for it was -the first he had seen of Helen's writing these months. -Was this the answer of his longing? Had she sent—at -last? His fingers trembled as he tore the wrapping, -then he paused, staring. It was his last check, returned -without an explanatory scrap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's hired to teach her old school again." Bender -answered his blank look.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="travail"><span class="bold large">XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">TRAVAIL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>If the white months seemed to lag with Carter up -at the camp, they dragged wearily with Helen down -in the settlements. Christmas had been particularly -dreary, for it did not require a woman's marvellous -memory for anniversaries for her to live over again every -incident and experience of last Yuletide. In their -living-room Carter had built a chimney and fireplace of mud, -Cree style, and on Christmas Eve she had cuddled in -against his broad breast and talked of a sweet possibility. -They had the usual pretty quarrel over sex and names—has -the tongue one good enough for the first-born? -Then he had hung her stocking, and none other would -suit him, forsooth, but the one she was wearing. He had -laughed away her blushing protestations, and had kissed -the white foot and toes that squirmed in his big hand. -Sitting alone this Christmas, she had blushed at the -memory; then a gush of tears had cooled her hot cheeks, -tears of mingled sorrow and thankfulness that their -pretty dream had not taken form in flesh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One January morning she sat, chin in hands, and -stared across the humming stove at the white drift -outside. Nels, the Swedish hired man, had killed three pigs -for winter meat the day before, and with a touch of -humor that was foreign to his bleached complacency had -set them on all-fours in the snow. Stiff, frozen—so -hard, indeed, that the house-dog retired disconsolately -after a fruitless tug at an iron ear—they poked marble -shoulders out of a drift. The eye of one was closed in -a cunning wink. His neighbor achieved a grin. The -mouth of the third was open and thrown back, as though -defying death with derisive laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Steeped in thought, Helen did not see the grim grotesques. -These months she had undergone three distinct -changes of feeling. First she was becomingly repentant. -Viewed under the softening perspectives of time and -distance, Carter's crudities waned, while his strength and -virtues waxed. The insignificant sloughed away from -his personality, leaving only the strong, the virile. -During this stage she formed small plans towards reconciliation, -and bided patiently at home, ceasing her visits to -Mrs. Leslie. Not that she felt them wrong, but, besides -the shame natural to her position, she liked to feel that -she was gratifying what she deemed her husband's -prejudice; she experienced the satisfaction which accrues -from a penance self-imposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, however, he did not return, she relapsed into -hurt silence—would not speak of him to Jenny, nor -listen when Bender dropped in on one of his periodical -visits with news from the camp. Lastly came cold -resentment, anger at the grass-widowhood that was being -thrust upon her, a feeling that was the more unbearable -because she secretly admired his boldness in cutting the -knot of their difficulties. She recognized the wisdom of -the act. Had he not taken the initiative, the process of -disenchantment would have continued till she herself -might have taken the first step to end their misery. But -the knowledge did not mitigate the sting. He had forced -the separation! The thought rankled and grew more -bitter day by day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This morning she was in a particularly dangerous mood. -Conscious of her original good intention, knowing that -her fault had been the product of conditions as much as -her own weakness, she was ripe for revolt against the -entire scheme of things that had forced the lot of crabbed -age upon her flushed youth, compelling her to sit by a -lonely fire. And as she sat and brooded a clash of bells -broke up her meditations; the door opened, letting in a -bitter blast that froze the warm interior air into chilly -fog, from the centre of which Mrs. Leslie emerged, -heavily furred and voluble as ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anchorite!" she screamed. "Or is it anchoress? -Three, four—no, six visits you owe me. Explain! Bad -weather? Hum!" She tilted her pretty nose. "If I -couldn't fib more artistically, Helen, I'd adhere to the -painful truth. You were afraid—of hubby."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I wasn't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie surveyed the girl's flushed anger with -sarcastic pity. "Tut! tut! More fibs. Huddled over -that stove, you make the loveliest study of despair. You -have been crying, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I haven't!" The lines of Huddled Despair flowed -into Radiant Anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your eyes are red?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if they are—if I did—it was through anger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie accepted the modified admission. "That's -right, my dear. He—no man is worth the compliment -of regretful tears. They are all foolish, selfish, fickle as -children. They cry for love like a child for the moon, -throw it away when the toy wearies, howl if another -tries to pick it up. They only value the unattainable. Bah!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ejaculation was comical in its feigned disgust, but -just then Helen had ears only for the serious or -sympathetic—preferably the latter. "Tell me, Elinor," she -asked, "do you really think I have deserved this at his -hands?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No." For once in her life Mrs. Leslie dealt in -undiluted truth—because, perhaps, lying would not serve -her purpose. "One could understand his pique—" With -incredible hardihood, considering the part she herself -had played, she commented: "Really, my dear, you -ought not to have done it. But he has been altogether -too severe—unforgiving. I don't see how you stand it. -I should freeze these cold nights without some one to -warm my feet on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To think"—speech was such a relief after months of -bitter silence, and Helen never even noticed the other's -funny climax—"to think that this should be dealt to me -by a man of whose very existence I was unconscious a -short two years ago! Is he a god to exercise such -power—to command me to eat the bread-and-water of -affliction during his pleasure? Why, I was twenty-two -before I ever saw him! Doesn't it seem ridiculous—silly -as though one pebble on a beach were to establish limits -for another? They roll and rub where and with whom -they list, and why shouldn't I?" Ignoring the fact that -monogamy was her sex's greatest achievement, and that -the first woman who bartered love for protection, cookery -for maintenance, had not driven such a bad bargain, she -finished: "Wouldn't it be funny if pebbles were -condemned to rub and roll in definite pairs till winds and -waves had buried one or other affinity deep in the sands. Why—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In other words," Mrs. Leslie interrupted, "why -should vertical distances count for more than horizontal—death -for more than distance—seven feet under the sod -carry advantages and opportunities that do not go with -seventy miles above? There isn't any reason. It is -just so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I won't stand it!" Rebellion inhered in Helen's -stamp. "I won't! I won't! I won't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie shrugged her hopelessness. "Thousands of -women have to. What </span><em class="italics">can</em><span> you do, my dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do?" the girl answered, hotly. "I have already done -it—applied for and secured my old school. Unfortunately, -I must remain here till the spring term opens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now to accuse Mrs. Leslie of trailing a definite purpose -were to reveal lamentable ignorance of her ruling traits. -She was no fell adventuress of romance, stealthy of plot, -remorseless in pursuit. Persistence was foreign to her -light character. Unstable as water, she veered like a -shuttlecock under the breath of emotion, yet, withal, -grasped speedily at such straws as the winds of opportunity -brought within reach. If she lacked force to plot -Carter's capture, or to revenge herself for his slight -through Helen, she was willing enough now that the -wind served.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the mean time," she said, "you will stay with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I couldn't do that!" Oh, complex feminine -nature! Helen balked at the freedom of her agonizings. -The quick earnestness of her answer told of the hope -that still glowed in the ashes of despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mrs. Leslie turned hope against her. "Oh yes," -she mocked. "You were not afraid of him; certainly -not. But that is not the way to get him back, my dear. -If you would regain your recreant, give him a rival."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, though this piece of worldly wisdom was strictly -in line with Helen's crooked parable of the pebbles, the -idea sounded grossly common in plain words. Hastily -she said, "You don't suppose that I would—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No! no!" Mrs. Leslie skilfully retrieved her error. -"I only meant that it would be as well to keep him on the -anxious seat. Never let a man feel too sure of you—it -isn't healthy, for him or you. I wouldn't wait here till -it pleased him to extend magnificent forgiveness for so -small a fault. Go out—visit—let him see that you can -be happy without him—that you have still attractions -for others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't care. Why do you persist, Elinor, in -hinting that I still love him? I don't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you'll come with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to, but I can't leave Jenny alone with Nels."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie might have replied that this was exactly -what she would have to do when school opened; -instead, she contemplated the love which masqueraded -behind this unparalleled obstinacy from sphinxlike eyes. -"Jenny must be dying to see her friends in Lone Tree," -she suggested. "Let her take a vacation. As for -Nels—he can bach it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen looked troubled. It was really astonishing to -see how she ran from liberty. But she had, perforce, -to make some show of living up to her professions, so -she called Jenny and anxiously inquired if she </span><em class="italics">didn't</em><span> -want to visit her friends. Unfortunately, Jennie had -been oppressed these many days with a longing to see -the good doctor, and the expression of her wish carried -the day for Mrs. Leslie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well," she sighed; and Mrs. Leslie prudently -confined her laugh within her own hollow sepultures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accepting the invitation with misgivings, she was -astonished, on her return home, to find how thoroughly -she had enjoyed her two weeks' visit. Yet it was only -natural. Besides the change, Mrs. Leslie had been at -pains to amuse and entertain her. There were cosey -chats over the teacups on matters dear to the feminine -heart, and daily sleigh-rides—mad dashes over hard-packed -trails to music of jingling bells. Once the drive -was extended as far as Regis barracks, twenty miles to -the west, and Helen was introduced to captains of the -mounted police in scarlet splashed with gold, their -ladies, the agents and clerks of the government land -office—pleasant people at first sight, of whom she was -to learn more. Of nights, Molyneux and other -remittance-bachelors would drop in, and, with drawn curtains -excluding the vast arctic night, there would be music, -songs, games. Small wonder that she enjoyed herself, -or that, the ice thus broken, she gravitated between -home and the Leslies' during the remainder of that -winter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Speaking of Molyneux, a greater surprise inhered in -the fact that she had been able to meet him without -embarrassment, a condition that was due to the tact and -real consideration which he displayed. At their first -meeting he paused only for a pleasant greeting; next, -he ventured a chat; and these lengthened until he felt -safe in staying out an evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He marked his greatest gain the day that—Leslie -being under the weather with a cold—she allowed him -to drive her home. By those gentlemen, the romanticists, -this fact would not have been accorded a tender -implication. They paint love in colors fast as patent -dyes: good girls love once; or, if a second passion be -grudgingly allowed, it is only after the first is safely -bestowed in cold storage underground. In face of the -fact that the little god occasionally shoots a double -arrow, that the sigh of many a wife would be unwelcome -if intelligible to her husband, that many a maid has -slipped into spinsterhood between two passions, they -lay down as the basic principle of ethical romance the -canon that neither wife nor maid can entertain two loves -other than in sequence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Helen may not have been in this case, and if she -had it goes without saying that she would never have -admitted the preference even to herself. For she had -been raised in the very shadow of the aforesaid canon. -Yet he had certainly won on her—for good reason. In -person he was above the average of good looks; his -manners touched standard. In that he, alone of the -English set, had been able to wring a living from the -stern northland without the aid of a fat allowance, he -commanded her respect. Also she thought that he was -trying to sink his past—he entertained the same -illusion—and as every good girl loves to imagine herself as an -"influence," the thought gave her satisfaction. Molyneux -had no cause of complaint.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To do him justice, he tried, in a slovenly fashion, yet -still tried, to live up to this, the one pure love of his -life—purity must be interpreted as applying to his intention -rather than motive. Of all the remittance-men who -frequented Mrs. Leslie's house, he, at this time, showed the -least moral taint. Often he thrust in between Helen and -things offensive. Though, during Helen's visits, -Mrs. Leslie made some attempt to put her house in order, -she could not always bridle her male guests, who smoked -Leslie's imported tobacco and offered herself veiled love. -But Molyneux sterilized most of their blackguardism, -nipping entendre with a chilly stare, destroying double -meanings by instant and literal interpretation—did it so -effectually that she never noticed the pervading -sensualism. Indeed, he did it so much as to draw Mrs. Leslie's -fire. "Virtuous boy," she said, teasing him one day. -"You almost convert me to the true-love theory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His grimace gauged the depth of his reformation. To -him as to Mrs. Leslie the text could be fitted: "Can the -leopard change his spots or the Ethiop his skin?" Really -he had not changed in quality or purpose; it -was the same Molyneux in pursuit of the same end. -His tactics were merely altered to suit his game. He -would, of course, have denied this—probably with the -warmth of honest conviction. At times his reflections -on the subject attained highly moral altitudes. He had -known from the first that Helen could never live with -Carter! Duty certainly called him to end her bondage! -Yes, he believed himself honest, and would continue to -so believe until some unexpected check loosed the Old -Adam again. This was proved by the flashes of passion -at the very thought of failure. It would have been -much more natural for him to have attempted a raid on -Carter's Eden. But, warned by previous experience, he -waited, waited, waited, and watched as the snake may -have watched the maiden Eve over the threshold of -Adam's garden. Now that time seemed to have verified -his prediction, that, albeit with hesitant steps, Helen was -approaching the gate of her own accord, he held back -the hot hand that fain would have plucked her forth -lest he should startle her into flight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were many watchers of the girl's progression -during the winter months: Mrs. Leslie, who might be -said to await the moment when a shove might throw the -girl off her balance headlong into Molyneux's arms; the -settlers, who anticipated such a denouement with -scandalous tongues; the remittance-men, who betted on the -result, basing odds on her lonely condition. To these there -could be but one end. Always the human soul reaches -for happiness, and the fact that she had once mistaken -Dead Sea fruit for love's golden apples would not prevent -her from tiptoeing to pluck again. Would she pluck?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux, for one, was sure that she would, and, -having the courage of his conviction, put his hope into -speech, choosing an opportune time. Nels always drove -her over to Leslie's, and at first brought her home. But -by the middle of February the latter part of the task -fell by consent of all to Molyneux, and he spoke while -driving her home one afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Read this," he said, handing her a telegram that -called him to his father's death-bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, impulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For what," he questioned, "his sickness or my absence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both," she frankly answered. "You have been—very -nice to me. I shall miss you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now this was all very proper, but when he stated that -he should be gone at least seven weeks she ought to -have veiled her concern. But she did not, and the -regret that swam in the hazel eyes strengthened his -purpose. "Before I go I must say something. How long -is our present relation to last?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The raise of her eyebrows might have meant anything. -He took it as encouragement, and ran on, "You know -that I love—have always loved you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here, according to the canons, she ought to have -withered him. Instead she gave him the truth. "I am -not blind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks for your candor. Now, a step further—do -you intend to remain his bondwoman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was harder, yet her answer correctly interpreted -her feeling. "I—I—really don't know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doubt spurred him. "You do not love him. You -could not—after the way he has treated you. You must -have love. A glance at your face would tell a dullard -that it is as necessary to your existence as air or water. -You cannot be happy without it. It is life to you; more -than sustenance. You must be wrapped in it, touch it -at every point, feel it everywhere around you. Your -being cries out for a passion all-absorbing; you will -take nothing less. I would—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me such love?" She had thrilled under his -truthful analysis of her nature, and now she cried out -the passion of her sex, the eternal desire for a love -everlasting as that of a mother. "Is such possible?—a love -that never stales, that endures after the hot blood cools -and beauty fades? Could you love me through old age? -No, no! A woman can, but never a man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can! By God! I can!" he cried, blazing in response -to her passion. "I'll prove it, for sooner or later -you are going to love me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed a little wearily. "There spake the bold -man. Well—you have my good wishes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your—good—wishes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't flatter yourself." Her staying hand checked -his enthusiasm. "You said just now that I didn't -love—my husband. Perhaps you are right. I don't know. -I have no standard by which to judge, and only love -could supply one. So far—you have failed to do so. -I like you—very much; but—if I ever love again, the -man must lift me out of myself, make me forget—him, -myself, the whole world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do it!" he confidently exclaimed; then, sobering, -added: "I want you to promise one thing. It isn't -much—simply to give serious thought to your position -while I am away—to remember what I have just told -you and to forget that first foolish mistake that cost -me so much. Now will you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely," she honestly answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And—if possible—give me an answer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She nodded, and he was content to leave it there. -They were now on the last mile, and they made it in -silence, he plunged in delicious reverie, she very -thoughtful. Looking up as the cutter rolled and bumped over -the frozen stable-yard, he caught her looking at him with -soft compassion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled. "Did you really—suffer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grasping her hand, he had almost kissed it when she -jerked it suddenly away. "There's Karl—and -Jenny—standing in the door." Noting his sudden -discomposure, she added: "Never mind, she didn't see you. -Won't you come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't—put me late for the choring."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was only one of a dozen times that he had refused -the invitation. A little surprised, she watched him turn -and drive away, then she saw Nels coming up from the -stable, and the thought was lost in wonder as to whether -or no he had seen Molyneux take her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, as a matter of fact, Nels had; moreover, he -mentioned it to Jenny as he helped her wipe the supper -dishes, and thereby earned much trouble. "I tank," he -observed, "something is doings. Cappan he taken the -mistress hand. Pratty soon the boss no have womans."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His chuckle died under her wrathful stare. "Mention -that to any one, Nels, an' Mr. Bender 'll break every bone -in your body."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not so easy to dispose of her own misgivings. -As, that evening, she arranged the dishes in the -homemade plate-rack, she turned sombre eyes on Helen, -musing by the stove. Often her lips opened, but sound -trembled on its thresholds. She kept her own counsel -till Bender dropped in on his next visit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was perfectly natural for her to turn to him for -counsel. Coming to her as he did, in the moment of -her sore trouble, her girl's heart had opened and vented -on him the love that had been prisoned since the death -of her mother; and ever since a perfect understanding -of kindred natures had obtained between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're talking about her in the settlements something -scan'lous," she told him. "Tongues is clacking -from here to Lone Tree. Why </span><em class="italics">don't</em><span> Mr. Carter come -home? Kain't you persuade him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bender shook his head. "No, he's stiffer'n all -he— Beg your pardon! I mean he's dreadful sot in -his mind. I wouldn't envy the one that went to advise him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before going away Bender touched on a matter that -was now old history in their intercourse. "Changed -your mind yet, little girl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now Jenny's turn to sorrowfully shake her head. -"It would be my an' pleasure to be wife to a big, good -man like you. But I just kain't bring myself to put -you where any man could cast my shame in your face."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, shore!" he protested. "You was that little—a -teeny bit of a thing, jes' seventeen—on'y a baby. Who'd -be holding it agin you? Besides—he's in England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—he's in England," Jenny slowly repeated. "But—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not see the queer look she sent after him as he -rode away.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-house-party"><span class="bold large">XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A HOUSE-PARTY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One morning, some three weeks after Molyneux's -departure, Helen sat in her doorway reading, as -certain an indication of coming spring as the honk of -the wild geese speeding northward on the back of the -amorous south wind. As yet the prairie sloughs wore -mail of ice, but from dizzy heights those keen-eyed -voyagers discerned tricklings and wee pools under sheltered -forest banks, sufficient till the laggard sun should smite -the snows and fill the air with tinklings and gurglings, -loose the strange sound of running waters on the frozen -silence. Another month would do it. Already the -drifts were packing, and the hard trails traversed the -sinking snows like mountain chains on a relief map. -In Helen's door-yard stratas of yellow chips, debris of -the winter's furious firing, were beginning to appear; -with them, lost articles; indeed, Nels was gobbling joyously -over the retrieval of an axe, when Leslie's team and -cutter came swinging into the yard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Leslie was driving, and, seeing Helen, she screamed -from a hundred yards: "They are coming! All of 'em!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?" Helen asked, when the ponies stopped at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Edith Newton, Mrs. Jack Charters, Sinclair -Rhodes—you remember? I told you that I should give -a house-party for the Regis folks when the frosts let up. -Hurry and pack up your war-paint! They'll be here -to-morrow, and I need your help. No refusal! Fred -is going in to Lone Tree to-morrow and Jenny can go -down with him. Nels will cook for himself, won't you, Nels?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I tank I can cook, yes." Nels ceased his jubilations -over the axe long enough to season his assent with a -bleached grin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There! It's all fixed." Bustling inside, she talked -volubly while assisting in Helen's selections. "Yes, -take that; you look your sweetest in it; and I imported -Captain Chapman especially for you. That also; you'll -need it evenings. No, Captain Charters isn't coming. -Some Indian trouble called him west. Oh, Mrs. Jack -won't care—I'm the loser, for he was always my cavalier."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Driving home, she rattled steadily, entertaining Helen -with descriptions of her expected guests, giving their -pedigrees, aristocratic connections, while she spiced her -discourse with malicious fact. Sinclair Rhodes had -secured his appointment as land agent at Regis through -distant cousinship to the governor-general. And why -not? The offices ought to go to well-bred people! He -had money, must have, for his salary and expenses were -out of all proportion—so much so as to cause comment -by malicious people, envious souls! What if he did make -a little, as they said, on the side? The government -could afford it; and every one knew what Canadians -were in office! People who live in glass houses, and so -forth! It was simply racial envy! She was also -becomingly indignant over the action of certain Canadians who -had made trouble for Captain Chapman in the matter of -mounted-police supplies. What figure did a few tons of -provisions cut in a gentleman's accounts? These -commercial intellects, with their mathematical exactness, -were horrid. Newton? He was an appointee of Rhodes. -No, no relation. She waived further description of the -Newtons, omitted the pregnant fact that Charles -Newton's presence cut as little figure in his wife's social -calculations as Captain Charters' absence did in those -of Mrs. Jack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caution, doubtless, counselled the omission. The quail -is not flushed till the net be spread. Yet the -reservation was hardly necessary in the light of Helen's -condition. Judgment of another's action is colored by one's -own mental state, and she was not so likely to be -shocked by one who had defied the conventions against -which she herself was in open mutiny. Anyway, she -liked Mrs. Jack at first sight, despite the scandalous -manner in which she flirted with Charles Newton the -first night at table. Big, tall, and fair, large eyes -expressed her saving grace, an unparalleled frankness that -seemed to sterilize her flirtations and rob them of -impropriety. Twice during the meal she retailed Newton's -tender asides to his wife, asking, laughingly, if she -recognized the vintage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, being as yet in happy ignorance of many -things that would soon cause her serious disquiet, Helen -thoroughly enjoyed that first evening. The well-appointed -table, with its sparkling glass, silver, snowy napery; -the well-groomed people and their correct speech alike -fed her starved æsthetic senses while they aroused -dormant social qualities. She laughed, chattered, capped -Mrs. Jack's sallies, displaying animation and wit that -simply astonished Mrs. Leslie. Her wonder, indeed, -caused Edith Newton to whisper in Mrs. Jack's ear:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Elinor looks as though she had imported a swan in -mistake for a duckling. Look at Sinclair—positively -smitten. Giving her all his attention, though he took -Elinor in. The girl seems to like him, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Jack's big eyes turned to the laughing face that -was raised up to Rhodes. "Don't believe a word he -says, my dear," she suddenly called across the table. -"And look out for him. He's dangerous."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though she laughed, Rhodes must have sensed a serious -motive, for he glanced up in quick annoyance. "Do -I look it?" he asked, turning again to Helen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nature does not lie. His narrowly spaced eyes, -salient facial angles, dull skin, heavy lips carried her -certificate of degeneracy. A physiognomist would have -pronounced him dangerous to innocence as a wild beast on -less evidence, but to Helen's inexperience he appeared -as a man unusually handsome, profile or front face. -The significant angles did not alter the good modelling -of his nose and chin or affect the regularity of his -features. Tall, slim, irreproachable in manner and dress, -there was no scratch to reveal the base metal beneath -his electroplate refinement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You certainly don't," she answered, laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," he said, with mock gravity, "I can patiently -suffer the sting of calumny."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Calumny?" Mrs. Jack echoed, teasingly. "</span><em class="italics">Calumny</em><span>? -What's that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Synonyme for conscience," Edith Newton put in, with -a spice of malice. For though the conquest of Rhodes—to -which Regis gossip wickedly laid Newton's presence -in the land office—was now stale with age and tiresome -to herself, she was selfish enough to resent his defection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sinclair found it while rummaging Fred's coat for -matches," her husband added. Leslie's simplicity was -as much of a joke to them as it was with the Canadian -settlers, and, under cover of the laugh, Chapman—a big -blond of that cavalry, mustached type which wins -England's cricket matches while losing all her wars—leaned -over and whispered in Newton's ear: "Leslie will lose -more than his conscience if he doesn't look out. La belle -Elinor is madly smitten." Aloud, he said, "Sinclair -would hardly know what to do with it, Mrs. Newton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hearken not to the tongue of envy, Mrs. Carter," -Rhodes retaliated upon his tormentors. "I'm a very -responsible person, I assure you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed at his mock seriousness, and, believing it -all fooling, gave him so much of her attention that -evening as to cause more than one comment. "Rhodes is -making heavy running," Newton remarked once to -Chapman, who replied, conceitedly stroking his mustache, -"Wait till I get in my innings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After me," Newton answered. "I come next at the bat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ignorant of this and other by-play, however, Helen -thoroughly enjoyed the first days of the party. On the -frontier, amusement is a home-made product, and shares -the superiority of domestic jams, jellies, and pickles over -the article of commerce. They caught the fickle damsel -Pleasure coming and going, reaping the satisfaction of -both spectator and entertainer. By day they skated, -drove, or curled on a rink which the male guests laid out; -nights, they sang, danced, played games, and romped -like children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Apart from a certain freedom in their intercourse, -which she attributed to long acquaintance, Helen found -nothing objectionable in the demeanor of her new friends -during those first few days. On the contrary, she -thought them a trifle dull. Their preglacial and -ponderous humor excited her risibility; she laughed as often -at as with them. At other times she could not but feel -that they regarded her as alien, a pretty pagan without -their social pale, and she would revolt against their -enormous egotism, insolent national conceit. She broke -many a lance on that impregnable shield.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You English," she flashed back when, one evening, -Newton reflected on American pronunciation of certain -English family names—"you English remind me of the -Jews, with their sibboleth and shibboleth. Is your -aristocracy so doubtful of its own identity that it is -compelled to hedge itself against intrusion by the use of -passwords. You may call 'Cholmondeley' 'Chumley,' -if you choose, but we commit no crime in pronouncing -it as spelled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again, when Edith Newton rallied her on some crude -custom which she maintained was peculiarly American, -Helen delivered a sharp </span><em class="italics">riposte</em><span>. "No, I never saw it -done at home; but I have heard that it is quite common -among English emigrants on transatlantic liners." Such -tiffs were, however, rare; and, to do them justice, men -and women hastened to sacrifice national conceit on the -altars of her wounded susceptibilities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Offence came later, and on quite another score. At -first she liked the attentions paid her; the gallantry of -the men put her on better terms with herself, renewed -the confidence which had diminished to the vanishing-point -during her months of loneliness. But when constant -association thawed the reserve natural to first -acquaintance, and freedom evolved into familiarity, her -instincts took alarm. Distressed, she observed the other -women to see if she had been singled out. But no, they -seemed quite comfortable under similar attentions, and -they rallied her when she unfolded her misgivings at -afternoon tea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shouldn't be so pretty, my dear," Mrs. Jack -said, laughing. "What can the poor men do?" Then -they made fun of her scruples, satirizing conventions and -institutions which she had always regarded as necessary, -if not God-ordained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marriage," Edith Newton once cynically exclaimed, -"is merely a badge of respectability, useful as a shield -from the slings and arrows." Then, from the depths of -her own degeneracy, she evolved the utterance: "Men -are all beasts beneath the skin. Wise women use them -for pleasure or profit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen revolted at that; it transcended her mutiny. -But few people are made of martyr stuff—perhaps -fortunately so; martyrs are uncomfortable folk, and, wise -in her eternal generation, nature sprinkles them lightly -over the mass of common clay. The average person -easily takes the color of environment, so why not Helen? -Thinking that perhaps she was a little prudish, she -stifled her fears, tried to imitate the nonchalance of the -others. She even made a few tentative attempts at -daring. Alas! as well expect a rabbit to ruffle it with -wolves. Such immediate and unwelcome results followed -that she retired precipitously behind ramparts of -blushing reserve. But the damage was done. -Thereafter Chapman, Newton, Rhodes, one or another, was -constantly at her elbow; she was unpleasantly conscious -that, having let down her fences, they looked upon her -as free game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thought stirred her to fight. Chapman she -disposed of with a single rebuff that sent him back to -Mrs. Jack's side. But Newton proved unmanageable. -Impervious to snubs, his manner conveyed his idea that her -modesty was simply a blind for the others. His -familiarities bordered on license. A good singer, he always -asked her to play his accompaniments of evenings, and -she would sicken as he used the pretence of turning a -leaf to lean heavily upon her shoulder. At other times -he made occasion to touch her—would pick threads from -her jacket; lean across her to speak to her neighbor at -table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By such tactics he brought her, one morning, to great -confusion. A Cree Indian had driven in from the -Assiniboin reserve with bead-work, moccasins, and -badger-skin mittens which he wished to trade for flour -or bacon. With the other women Helen was bending -over to examine his wares, when Newton entered the -kitchen. Stepping quietly up from behind, he laid a -hand on Helen's hair. Taking him for one of the other -women, she suffered his fondling till Mrs. Leslie, who -knew he was there, asked his opinion on a tobacco-pouch. -Then, before she could move, speak, cast off -his hand, he pressed her head against his wife's dark -curls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just look at the contrast!" he admiringly exclaimed, -and so robbed her anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet so evident was the intent behind the excuse that -even the Cree detected the sham. From Helen his dark -glance travelled to Newton and back again. "He your -man?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Vexed to the point of tears, she shook her head and -bent over the bead-work to hide her embarrassment. -But the Cree's rude notions of etiquette had been jarred. -"He touch your hair!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So simple, his comment yet pierced to the heart of the -matter. Newton had fondled her hair, crown and -symbol of her womanhood, a privilege of marriage. In an -Indian tribe the offence would have loosed the slipping -knife; a settler would have resented it with knarled fist. -But here the women tittered, while Chapman, who just -then sauntered in, laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Emboldened, perhaps, by immunity, the man's offensiveness -developed into actual insult the evening of that -same day. They had all been pulling taffy in the -kitchen, and, passing through a dark passage to the -living-room, Helen felt an arm slip about her waist. -Newton's face was still tingling from a vigorous slap -when she confronted him before them all in the living-room. -Even his hardihood quailed before her flushed -and contemptuous anger; he was not quite so ready -with his excuse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">beg</em><span> your </span><em class="italics">pardon</em><span>, Mrs. Carter! Really, I mistook -you for my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a lie on the face of it, and, barbed with stinging -truth, her retort drew a peal of laughter from the others. -"Indeed? Your excuse is more remarkable than your -mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Offended as much by the laugh as the insult, she -seated herself on a lounge by Leslie, the one man with -whom she always felt safe. In him the stigma of -degeneracy took another form; the tired blood expressed -itself in a prodigious simplicity. He lacked even the -elements of vice. As his wife put it, "Fred is too -stupid to be wicked." Yet, withal, he was very much -of a man as far as his chuckleheadedness permitted, and -now he offered real sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was a caddish trick, Mrs. Carter, and I mean to -tell him so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no!" she pleaded. "It wouldn't improve matters -to make a scene, and he's not likely to offend again. -Please don't? Stay here—with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I'm your host. Really, he deserves a thrashing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no! Stay here! I don't feel equal to the others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never do." Sitting again, he turned on her a look -of beaming fellowship. "The girls all yawn and look -terribly bored when I try to amuse them—except you. -They don't seem to care for horses and dogs, the things -that interest me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If, as a conversationalist, he did not shine, he at least -brought her the first easy moments she had known that -day, and she turned a sympathetic ear to some of his -prattle. Indicating Rhodes, who was leaning over -Mrs. Leslie, he said: "You know I don't like that sort of -thing. Elinor says I'm old-fashioned, and I suppose -she knows. Of course she wouldn't do anything that -wasn't proper, but a fellow has his feelings, and it -doesn't take a crime to hurt them, does it? She's up -on the conventions; but it does seem to me that if a -fellow has anything to say to another fellow's wife he -ought to say it aloud."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Astonished that his dulness should have sensed the -pervading sensualism, she studied him while he watched -his wife, in his eyes something of that pitiful pleading -one sees in those of a beaten dog. His words banished -her doubts as to whether her own misgivings did not -root in hypercritical standards—restored her viewpoint. -All week the atmosphere had thickened, as constant -association banished reserve, and to-day freedom had -attained its meridian. It was not the matter but the -manner of conversation that filled her with a great -uneasiness—the whispers, asides, smiling stares, conscious -laughter. The vitiated atmosphere caused her a feeling -of suffocation, and in the midst of her sick revulsion -Leslie dropped a remark that came to her like a breath -of ozone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was awfully sorry to hear of the trouble between -you and Carter. I always thought him </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> a fine -fellow. He hadn't much use for me—any of us—still I -liked him. He was a bit on the rough, of course; but, I -tell you, character counts more than culture, strength -than refinement."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Character counts more than culture, strength than -refinement? To his simplicity had been vouched -wisdom worthy of a philosopher. The phrase stabbed her. -Before her rose a vision of her husband as she had seen -him that last miserable night, cold, stern, inexorable, in -the loom of the moonlight. In view of that colossal -memory, the Englishmen about her dwarfed to effeminate -insignificance. Vividly her own doubting recurred. -And she had traded him—for this! The thought brought -wretchedness too great for concealment. Her uneasiness -was so manifest as to form the theme of a bedroom -conversation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though comfortable—the one frame house in the -settlements, a palace to Canadian eyes—Leslie's house -boasted only two bedrooms; so while the men made -shift on shake-downs, Helen shared Mrs. Leslie's rooms, -Edith Newton and Mrs. Jack the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she braided her hair for the night, the latter lady -opened the conversation. "Did you notice how uncomfortable -little Carter was this evening? She is a nice -little thing, but she doesn't mix. I don't see why -Elinor invited her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't, eh?" Edith Newton mumbled a mouthful -of pins. "You are slow, Maud."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No—only lazy. Why should I puzzle over things -when you are here? I'll bet you have pumped -everybody dry long ago. Now—dispense!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't go round with my eyes shut," the other -calmly answered. "To begin: Calvert Molyneux is -completely gone on little Carter, whose husband, it seems, -left her because of some slight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hum!" Mrs. Jack elevated her straight brows. -"Foolish man to leave her to Calvert. So that is why -he went home! Exits till the tarnished pearl be -regulped by the conjugal oyster? Clever!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the contrary"—she curled a full red lip—"he -contemplates </span><em class="italics">honorable</em><span> marriage—dalliance, Dakota, -divorce, everything that begins with D, down to eventual -desertion, if I know anything of Calvert. But fancy—HE!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'The devil in love, the devil a husband would be,'" -Mrs. Jack misquoted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'The devil married, the devil a husband was he,'" -Edith Newton finished. "But he is not married yet. -She holds him off—foolishly. For you know Calvert, -good in streaks, but ruled by his emotions and ruthless -when they command. If she turns him down—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She'll need to keep him at longer distance than this -house affords. But Elinor?—this doesn't explain her. -She's beastly selfish under her jolly little skin. Why is -she posing as aid and advocate of love?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In love with Carter hubby—or was would be more -correct, in view of her carryings-on with Sinclair. But the -Carter attack, I understand, was very severe while it lasted. -Think of it, Maud, Elinor to fall in love with a settler!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Jack elevated naked shoulders. "Not at all -surprising. Just the itch of her rotten blood for a few -sound corpuscles. I've felt it myself at times. Don't -look so shocked—you know we are rotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Maud! Maud!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Humming a bar of "La Boheme," Mrs. Jack regarded -her companion through narrowed lids. "I believe, Edith, -you keep up appearances with yourself. Why not be -natural for a change? But, as you say, Elinor seems to -have made a complete convalescence. Did you </span><em class="italics">ever</em><span> see -a woman make </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> a projectile of herself? Positively -hurls herself at Sinclair. But tell me more about the -Carter man. How did he treat her rabies?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cold-water cure. Turned her down—flat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So in revenge she's trying to besmirch the wife? -The little devil! I call that pretty raw, Edith."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other shrugged. "Oh, well, it is her pie, and if -she prefers it uncooked it is none of our business. -Better keep your fingers out of it, Maud. Struggle with -your good intentions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Jack smiled sweetly. "My dear, am I in the -habit of messing alien pies?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not unless you covet the meat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm not hankering after either Calvert or Carter -hubby, though I must say that I like his specifications. -Showed awfully good taste both in selecting his wife and -rejecting Elinor. Fancy! a virtuous man—in this day!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time Edith Newton was disposed in bed. A -sleepy answer came from under the clothing. "Proves -he hadn't the honor of your acquaintance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor yours," Mrs. Jack retorted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her flippancy masked a disquiet so grave as to drive -away the desire for sleep. Clad only in her bed-gown, -she drew a chair up to the stove, which returned her -thoughtful gaze through two red monocles of isinglass. -In her fair-play was associated with its companion -virtue frankness, and in no wise could she read a mite -of the former quality into Elinor Leslie's intent towards -Helen. After many uneasy shruggings, she rose, took -the lamp, and walked into the other bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Misplaced my comb," she answered Mrs. Leslie's -sleepy inquiry. "Lend me yours." Then she paused -at the foot of the bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen had coiled her hair for the night, but its unruly -masses had loosened and ran, a perfect cataract of gold, -over her pillow. Against that auriferous background -lay her head and face, with its delicate creams and pinks -sinking into the plumpness of one white arm. The other -was folded over the softness of her bosom. Mrs. Jack -thought her asleep till her eyes opened, then, returning -the girl's smile, she tiptoed back to her fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a damned shame," she told herself, profanely, -but truly, and with such vigor that Edith Newton sleepily -asked: "What's the matter? Aren't you ever coming -to bed, Maud?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Saying my prayers. Go to sleep."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Put in a word for me," the other murmured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Lord knows that you need it." Mrs. Jack -glanced at the bed, then returned to her musings. "Of -course she's a little fool. If she goes back to her -husband she will have to settle down to the humdrum of -settler life—raise calves, chickens, pigs, and children in -the fear of the Lord, with only a church picnic or some -such wild dissipation to break the deadly monotony. A -pleasing prospect, I must say. But if it suits her—well, -I'm not going to see her delivered, bound and bleating, -into the hands of the devil, </span><em class="italics">alias</em><span> Calvert Molyneux. -It seems a shame, either way, but she undoubtedly -loves her settler hubby, and she's just the kind to eat -her heart out through remorse and shame. And here -is Elinor blackening her reputation with the pig settlers -to whom she must look for a living, making reconciliation -impossible! Well, I'm going to speak to the little -fool to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This she did, making her opportunity by carrying -Helen off to her bedroom, where, having disposed her -victim in a comfortable chair, she herself snuggled down -upon the bed and went with customary frankness -straight to the heart of her subject. "I want to know, -Helen Carter, why you are here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Puzzled, Helen stared; then, interpreting by the smile, -she answered, "I—really, I—don't know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A—pretty—poor—reason!" She shook her finger in -affected anger. "Don't you </span><em class="italics">know</em><span> that you don't belong? -Now don't flare up! If I were Edith Newton, or Elinor, -the cat, you might suspect a reflection. It isn't that -you are below grade—just the opposite. Frankly, -my dear, we are a rotten lot. A sweet girl, with -conscience and morality has no business among us. We -couldn't scrape up enough of either article to outfit a -respectable cat. Don't blush. I'm not envying you -your conscience. It is a most uncomfortable asset, and, -given choice of two evils, I'd take a harelip. But, as -you have one—well, you'd better mizzle—go home, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having eased herself by this delivery, Mrs. Jack sighed, -sat up, rolled herself a cigarette, and went on, after a -contented puff: "Don't tell on me, my dear. Not that -I care a whoop—that's American, isn't it? I love your -slang; it is so expressive and comfortable to the feelings. -But, you see, rakishness has no attractions for the fool -male of our species. He resents any infringement of his -monopoly. Even such a degenerate ass as Charles -Newton prefers school-girl simplicity. So one must needs -simulate virgin innocence, however painful. That's more -of your delightful slang. Now—when are you going?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The question anticipated the conclusion of Helen's -midnight tossings; but, if unchanged in substance, this -had nevertheless been modified by cooler morning -reflections. She stated the qualifications—Jenny was -visiting in Lone Tree, and would not return till Saturday. -Only two more days! Her visit would then come to a -natural end, so why offend by abrupt departure?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Jack laughed. "I don't think Elinor would be -so very dreadfully offended. Why? Well, it is ungracious -to criticise one's hostess, but—you have trapped -her rabbit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her—rabbit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—Sinclair Rhodes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, he paid me less attention than any of the -others; was less—you'll pardon me—offensive. I even -thought he tried to keep them away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As the lion drives the jackals. Avoid him, my dear. -Well, I suppose that a couple more days won't hurt. -We are to stay a week longer, and if Elinor asks -you—which she won't—you </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> refuse. Now let us go out -before they begin to suspect a conspiracy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But first let me thank you. I have been so miserable, -and you have done me </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> much good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Jack gently patted the hand that caught her arm, -an action totally at variance with her answer. -"Self-interest, I assure you. Elinor is not the only sufferer. -You have depleted the entire preserve. Not a man has -looked at me the last three days. There, there! You -needn't believe it if you don't want to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could Mrs. Jack's frank eyes have pierced the -immediate future, she would have made her warning against -Rhodes more specific. On Thursday of that week Leslie -drove his heavy team and bobs into Lone Tree for -supplies, and, what of the thawing trails, could not possibly -be back till all hours Saturday night. Not knowing this, -Mrs. Jack made no objection when, Saturday morning, -Danvers drove over with Molyneux's double cutter and -carried off herself and the Newtons to visit a friend west -of the Assiniboin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll be here till after supper," she said to Helen, -leaving. "So I won't say good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she miscalculated both the warmth of the friend's -welcome and the heavy sledding. When she returned, -long after dark, she found Mrs. Leslie reading a novel -by her bedroom stove. In a loose wrapper, crossed feet -comfortably propped on the plated stove-rail, a plate of -red apples at her elbow, and the light comfortably -adjusted on the table behind her, she was the picture of -comfort. "Having a jolly good time all by myself," she -explained. "Fred's not home yet, and Captain Chapman -went over to win a little from Ernest Poole at poker. -Helen? Just gone. She waited and waited and waited, -but you were so late that we both thought you had -concluded to stay the night. Didn't you pass her at the -Forks—or hear the bells? That double string of Fred's -can be heard to heaven on a still night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, was that she? Hired man came for her, I -suppose?" Mrs. Jack indifferently inquired, as she laid -off her furs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Sinclair drove her with our ponies. What's -the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Eyes dark and dilated with fear, Mrs. Jack faced her. -"Do you mean to tell me—" Breaking hastily off, she -ran through bed and living rooms, almost upsetting -Newton on her way to the outer door. "Mr. Danvers! -Oh, Mr. Danvers! Mr. Danvers! Mr.—Danvers!" she -called.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the night returned only the clash of his bells.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sweeping back in, she faced Mrs. Leslie, flushed with -the one righteous emotion of her fast life. "You let -her go out—alone—with that—" Choking, she ran into -her own room and slammed the door, leaving the other -two women staring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Edith Newton answered the lift of the other's -eyebrows. "Another of Maud's raves."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="and-its-finale"><span class="bold large">XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">—AND ITS FINALE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But for the bells and groan of runners, which drowned -sound for them even as it did for Danvers, Helen -and Rhodes were near enough to have heard Mrs. Jack's -call. Interpreting the latter's warning morally, Helen -had accepted Rhodes's escort as the lesser of two evils, -or, if she had speculated on tentative attempts at -flirtation, had not doubted her own ability to snub them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sudden frost, winter's last desperate clutch at the -throat of spring, had hardened the sun-rotted trails; and -as the cutter sped swiftly over the first mile, she chatted -freely, without thought of danger. Of the three male -guests, Rhodes had, as aforeseen, pestered her least, so, -ignorant of the pitiless brutality masked by his reserve, -she was paralyzed—almost fainted—when his arm -suddenly dropped from the cutter-rail to her waist.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Recovering, she spoke sharply, "Take it away!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instead, he drew her tighter. She could not see his -face; but as she struck, madly, blindly, at its dim whiteness, -his laugh, heartless, cynical, came out of the dusk, -"Kick, bite, scratch all you want, my little beauty," he -said, forcing his face against hers, "your struggles are -sweet as caresses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, withal his boast, he found it difficult to hold her. -Twice she broke his grip and almost leaped from the -sleigh; and as she fought his face away, her hand -suddenly touched the reins that were looped over his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the black confusion he was unable to specify just -what happened thereafter. He knew that, alarmed by -the scuffling, the ponies had burst into a gallop; but, -though he felt her relax, he could not see her throw all -of her weight into a sudden jerk on the left rein. Ensued -a heaving, tumultuous moment. Pulled from the trail, -the ponies plunged into deep drift. The cutter bucked -like a live thing, and as it dropped from the high trail -a runner cracked with a pistol report. Simultaneously -they were thrown out into deep, cold snow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They fell clear of each other, and Helen heard Rhodes -swearing as he ran to the ponies' heads. The sound -spurred her to action. She could only count on a -minute, and, rising, she ran, stumbling, falling headlong -into drifts to rise and plunge on, in her heart the terror -of the hunted thing. Each second she expected to hear -his pursuing foot. But he had to tie the ponies to a -prairie poplar, and by that time she had gained a bluff -two hundred yards away, and was crouched like a chased -hare in its heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That poor covert would not have sufficed against a -frontiersman. Tracking by the fainter whiteness of -broken snow, he would soon have flushed the trembling -game, but it was ample protection from Rhodes's -inefficiency. Alarmed when he saw that she was gone, he -ran back and forth, shouting, coupling her name with -promises of good behavior. As her line of flight had -angled but slightly from the trail, she heard him plainly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God! You'll freeze! Mrs. Carter! Oh, Mrs. Carter! -Do come out! I was only joking!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not require his assurance as to the freezing. -Already her limbs were numb, her teeth chattered so -loudly she was afraid he would hear. But she preferred -the frost's mercy to his, and so lay, shivering, until, in -despair, he got the ponies back to the trail and drove -rapidly away. Then she came out and headed homeward -like a bolting rabbit. Twice she was scared back -into the snow: once when Rhodes turned about and -dashed down and back the trail; again just before she -picked Leslie's voice from passing bells. He was merely -talking to his horses, but never before had his voice -fallen so sweetly on pretty ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As at some wan ghost, he stared at the dim, draggled -figure that came up to him out of the snows; indeed, -half frozen and wholly frightened, she was little more -than the ghost of herself. "The cad!" he stormed, -hearing her story. "I'll punch his head to-morrow!" And -he maintained that rude intention up to the moment -that he dropped her at her own door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't!" she called after him. "Elinor won't like -it." But the caution was for his own good, and she was -not so very much cast down when he persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then she can lump it!" he shouted back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The proverb gives the trampled worm rather more -than due credit when one remembers that a barrel-hoop -can outturn the very fiercest worm, but it should be -remembered in Leslie's favor that he mutinied in the -cause of another. Having all of the obstinacy of his -dulness, he went straighter to his end because it was -allied with that narrow, bull-dog vision which excludes -all but one object from the field of sight. Meeting -Rhodes, Chapman, and Newton, with lanterns, at the -point where the sleigh had capsized, he rushed the -former and was living in the strict letter of his intention -when the others pulled him away. They could not, -however, dam his indignant speech. On that vast, dark -stage, with the lanterns shedding a golden aureole about -Rhodes and his bleeding mouth, he gave them the -undiluted truth, as it is said to flow from the mouths of -babes and sucklings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arrived home, moreover, he staggered his wife by his -stubborn opposition. "It is no use talking, Elinor," he -said, closing a bitter argument. "To-morrow I go to -the bush for a load of wood, and if that cad is here when -I return I'll break a whip on his back." Then, ignoring -her bitten lips, clinched hands, the bitter fury that was -to produce such woful consequences, he went quietly -off to bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of all this, however, Helen remained in ignorance until -after the denouement that came a few days later along -with a scattering of new snow. Those were days of -misery for her—of remorseful brooding, self-reproach, -hot shame that set her at bitter introspection that she -might find and root out the germs of wickedness that -had brought these successive insults. As hundreds of -good girls before her, as thousands will after her, she -wondered if she were really the possessor of some -unsuspected sensuousness. Comparisons, too, were forced -upon her. Revolting from the rough settler life, she -had turned to the English set only to find that their -polished ease was but the veneer of their degeneracy, -analogous to the phosphorescence given off in the dark -by a poisoned fish, and equally indicative of decay. -She could not fail to contrast her husband's sterling -worth with their moral and intellectual leprosy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The nights were still more trying. She would sit, -evenings, and stare at the lamp as though it were the -veritable flame of life, while her spirit quested after the -cause of things and the root of many enigmas. Why, for -instance, is it that pitilessness, ferocity, ruth, which -were good in the youth of the world, should cause such -evil in its old age? For what reason the cause of the -lily willed also its blight? Why conditions make fish -of one woman, flesh of another, and fowl of a third, and -wherefore any one of them should be damned for doing -what she couldn't help in following the dictates of her -nature? In fact, from the duration of her reveries, she -may have entertained all of the hundred and odd -questions with which the atom pelts the infinite, and, -judging from her dissatisfaction, she received the usual -answer—Why? It is nature's wont to deliver her lessons -in parables, from which each must extract his or her own -meanings; and a momentous page was turned in Helen's -lesson the day that she rode over to Leslie's to verify a -rumor which Nels had brought from the post-office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As sleighing was practically over and wheeling not -yet begun, she went horseback. As aforesaid, a scattering -of new snow covered the prairies, and she rode -through a bitter prospect. Everywhere yellow grass -tussocks or tall brown weeds thrust through the scant -whiteness to wave in the chill wind. Under the sky's -enormous gray, scrub and bluff and blackened drifts -stood out, harsh studies in black and white. Nature -was in the blues, and all sentient things shared her dull -humor. Winging north, in V or harrow formations, the -wild ducks quacked their discontent. Peevish snipe -cursed the weather as they dipped from slough to slough. -A lone coyote complained that the season transcended -his experience, then broke off his plaint to chase a -rabbit, of whose red death Helen was shuddering witness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The settlement was even less cheerful. Such houses -as she passed rose like dirty smudges from the frozen -mud of their dooryards. Moreover, the looks of the few -settlers she met were not conducive of better spirits. -MacCloud, a bigoted Presbyterian of the old Scotch-Canadian -school, gave her a malignant grin in exchange -for her nod. Three Shinn boys, big louts, burst into a -loud guffaw as their wagon rattled by her at the forks -of Leslie's trail. Their comment, "Guess she hain't -heard!" increased her apprehension.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She could now see the house, smokeless, apparently -lifeless, frowning down from a snow-clad ridge. But -when, a minute later, she knocked, Leslie answered, and -she entered. The living-room, with its associations of -gayety, was dank, cold, cheerless. Ash littered the -fireless stove; the floor was unswept; the air gave back her -breath in a steamy cloud. Through the bedroom door -she saw drawers and boxes wide open, their contents -tossed and tumbled as though some one had rummaged -them for valuable contents. And amid these ruins of a -home Leslie sat, head bowed in his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You poor man!" she cried. "You poor, poor man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned up his face, and its sick misery reminded -her of a worm raising its mangled head from under a -passing wheel as though questing a reason for its -sudden taking off. His words strengthened the impression: -"I couldn't seem to satisfy her, and she was angry -because I took your part against him. Of course she -isn't so much to blame. I did as well as I could, but -I'm neither clever nor ornamental, like Rhodes. But I -tried to treat her well, didn't I? You shall judge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did—of course you did, poor man!" she sobbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then why did she leave me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somehow his blind questioning raised the prairie -tragedy in her mind. The rabbit's death-scream was equally -sincere in its protest against inscrutable fate in the -coyote's green eyes. Its innocence was blameless as this. -Yet—how could she answer problems as unsolvable as -her own?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been a fool," he went on; and his next words -helped to lessen the astonishment, though not the pain, -which his calamity had brought her. "A blind fool! -When we used to drive out to Regis last summer it -was going on—I can see it now. They did their billing -and cooing under my very eyes. Yet they were not so -clever, after all, were they? I trusted her—with my -honor, expecting her to protect it as I would have -defended her virtue. Was I at fault? If a man can't -trust his wife, what can he do? Surely not lock her up. -What could I do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Puzzled, she stood and looked down upon him. But -under its delicate complexities the feminine mind is ever -practical, and her attention quickly turned to his physical -welfare. He must be taken away—weaned from -his sick brooding, blind questioning. "Have you eaten -to-day?" she asked. "Not for </span><em class="italics">three</em><span> days! Go out and -harness your ponies at once, and come home with me to -supper." Anticipating objection, she added, "Really, -you must, for I am too tired to ride back again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her little fiction was hardly necessary, he found it so -easy to let her do his thinking. He obeyed as one in a -trance; and not till they drove away, leading her pony -behind, did action dissipate his lethargy. Then he began -to display some signs of animation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a silent and uncomfortable drive. Instead of -the usual lively jingle, pole and harness rattled dully, -the light snow hushed the merry song of the wheels to a -slushy dirge. The raw air, bleak sky, slaty grays of the -dull prospect were eminently oppressive. Nature had -shed her illusions and, fronting her cold materialism, -there was no dodging issues. Facts thrust themselves -too rudely upon consciousness. Leslie spoke but once, -and the remark proved that the chill realities had set -him again at the riddle of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall sell out," he said, as the ponies swung in on -Carter's trail. "Go to South Africa. My brother is a -mining superintendent on the Rand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sighed. "I can't go to South Africa."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rousing from his own trouble, he looked at her. -"You don't need to. You'll see. Carter will come -home one of these days." And during the few days -that he stayed with her he extended such brotherly -sympathy that she felt sincerely sorry when, having -placed the sale of his farm and effects in the hands of -Danvers, he followed his faithless wife out of her life -and this story.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-persistence-of-the-established"><span class="bold large">XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE PERSISTENCE OF THE ESTABLISHED</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Save for a few dirty drifts in the shadows of the -bluffs, the snow was all gone when, one morning a -week or so after Leslie's departure, Helen went south -under convoy of Jimmy Glaves to open school. The day -was beautiful. Once more the prairies wore the burned -browns of autumn, but to eyes that had grown to the -vast snowscape during a half-year of winter the huge -monochrome rioted in color. In fact it had its values. -There a passing cloud threw a patch of black. Bowing -to the soft breeze, last year's grass sent sunlit waves -chasing one another down to the far horizon. Here and -there a green stain on the edge of cropped hay-sloughs -bespoke the miracle of resurrection, eternal wonder of -spring, the young life bubbling forth from the decay and -death of parent plants. Also the prospect was -checkered with the chocolate of ploughed fields. On these -slow ox-teams crawled, and the shouts of the drivers, -the snapping crack of long whips, alternated as they -drove along with the cheep of running gophers, the -"pee-wee" of snipe, song of small birds. Noise was luxury -after the months of frozen silence. The warm, damp -air, the feel of balmy spring, the sunlight on the grasses -were delightfully relaxing. Helen gave herself up to -it—permitted sensation to rule and banish for the moment -her tire and trouble. She chatted quite happily with the -trustee, who, however, seemed gloomy and preoccupied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A philosopher coined a phrase—"the persistence of the -established"—to explain the survival of phenomena after -the original cause lies dead in the past. It admirably -defines the trustee's mental condition, which was a -product of causes set up by Helen in these last months. -Ignorant of the change in her feeling towards her -English friends, he was vividly aware of the prejudice which -her dealings with them had aroused in the settlers. In -the beginning he and Flynn had earned severe criticism -by giving her the school. Since the Leslie scandal he -doubted their ability to keep her in it. At meeting, -"bees," on trail, her name was being coupled with grins -or gloomy reprobation according to the years and -character of the critics. The women had plucked her -character clean as a chicken, and were scattering their -findings to the four winds. Just now, of course, the heavy -work of seeding sadly interfered with these activities -and diversions, but Jimmy looked for trouble in the -slack season. If, in the mean time, she could be weaned -from her liking for the English Ishmael, they might be -able to weather the prejudice. To which end he steered -the conversation to the greenness, credulity, and -execrable agriculture of the remittance-people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I kain't see," he said, among other things, "what a -fine gal like you kin see in 'em. They're dying stock, -an' one o' these days the fool-killer will come along an' -brain the hull biling. Brain, did I say? The Lord -forgive me! Kedn't scratch up the makings of one outen -the hull bunch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had she known his mind she might easily have laid -his misgivings. Instead, she tried to modify his bitter -opinion. "They are certainly inefficient as farmers. -But as regards their credulity, don't you think it is -largely due to a higher standard of business honor? -Now when a Canadian trades horses he expects to be -cheated, while they are only looking for a fair -exchange."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jimmy's face wrinkled in contemptuous disparagement. -"Hain't that jes' what I said? A man that expects -to get his own outen a hoss-trade kain't be killed -too quick. It's tempting Providence to leave him loose. -As well expect a nigger to leave a fat rooster as a -Canadian to keep his hands off sech easy meat. 'Tain't -human natur'. As for their honor—" He sniffed. "Pity -it didn't extend to their morals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is, indeed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Afterwards they had many a tilt on this same subject. -Smoking in his doorway of evenings, Jimmy would emit -sarcasms from the midst of furious clouds, while she, as -much for fun as from natural feminine perversity, took -the opposite side. And neither knew the other's -mind—until too late. But placated by her low answer, he now -let the subject rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Three feet of green water was slipping over the river -ice when they forded Silver Creek, and they had to -dodge odd logs, the vanguard of Carter's drive. -"Another week," the trustee remarked, "an' we couldn't -have crossed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was right. That week a warm rain ran the last -of the snows off several thousand square miles of watershed, -feeding the stream till it waxed fat and kicked like -the scriptural ox against the load Carter had saddled -upon it. Snarling viciously, it would whirl a timber -across a bend, then rush on with mad roar, leaving a -mile of logs backed up behind. But such triumph never -endured. With axe, pevees, cant-hooks, Bender and -his men broke the jams; whereupon, as though peevish at -its failure, the river swept out over the level bottoms -and stranded timbers in backwaters among dense scrub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To see this, the first log-drive on Silver Creek, the -children who lived near the valley scuttled every day -from school, and they would gaze, wide-eyed, at -Michigan Red riding a log that spun like a top under his -nimble feet, or watch the Cougar, shoulder-deep in -snow-water, shoving logs at some ticklish point. Then they -would hang about the cook's tent, while that functionary -juggled with beans and bacon or made lumberman's -cake by the cubic yard. Also there were peeps into the -sleeping-tents, where men lay and snored in boots and -wet red shirts, just as they had come out of the river. -Of all of which they would prattle to Helen next day -at school, reciting many tales, chief among them the -Homeric narrative of the cutting of a jam—in which she -had a special interest, and which proved, among other -things, that Michigan Red was again at his old tricks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Susie Flynn who brought this tale. Dipping -down, one end of a bridge timber had stuck at an acute -angle into the river-bed. A second timber swung -broadside on against its end, then, in a trice, the logs had -backed up, grinding bark to pulp under their enormous -pressure. "Mr. Bender," Susie said, "he was for -throwing a rope across from bank to bank so's they ked cut -it from above. But one wasn't handy, an' while they -was waiting a big red man comes up an' hands Mr. Carter -the dare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'If you're scairt, gimme the axe an' I'll show you -how we trim a jam in Michigan.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Mr. Carter wouldn't give it. 'No,' he says, -awful quiet, yet sorter funny, for all the men laughed—'no. -They'll need you to show 'em again.' Then he -walks out on the jam an' goes to chopping, with -Mr. Bender calling for him to come back an' not make a -damn fool of himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The scene had so impressed the child that she reproduced -every detail for her pale audience of one—Carter -astride of the key-log; his men, bating their breath with -the "huh" of his stroke; Bender's distress; the cynical -grin of Michigan Red. Once, she said, a floating chip -deflected the axe, and he swore, easily, naturally, turning -a smile of annoyance up to the bank. It drew no -response from eyes that were glued to the log, now -quivering under tons of pressure. A huge baulk, it broke with -a thunderous report when cut a quarter through, and -loosed a mile of grinding death upon the chopper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came his progress through the welter. As the -jam bore down-stream, timbers would dip, somersault, -and thrash down on a log that still quivered under the -spurn of his leap. Young trees raised on end and swept -like battering-rams along the log he rode. Yet, jumping -from log to log, he came up from death out of the turmoil -in safety to the bank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Brought his axe erlong, too!" Susan triumphantly -finished. "An' you should have jes' seen that red -man—he looked that sick an' green through his wishy-washy -smiling. But Mr. Carter! Ain't he a brave one? You -must be awful proud of him, ain't you, Miss Helen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What could she answer but "Yes," though the -trembling admission covered only a small portion of her -psychology? Misery, fear, regret made up the rest. -The remainder of that day dragged wearily by to a -distant drone of lessons. She, who had tried to eject -her husband from her life, shuddered as she thought -how nearly her wish had come to accomplishment. -Death's cold breath chilled resentment, expunged the -memory of her months of weary waiting. It would -return, but in the mean time she could think of nothing -but his danger. Hurrying home, she asked Glaves to -saddle her a horse, saying that she would try to gallop -off a headache.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Heartache would have been more correct; but she -certainly galloped, rode westward, then swung around -north on a wide circle that brought her, at dusk of the -short spring day, out on a bald headland that sheered -down to the river. Beneath her lay the camp, with its -cooking-fires flickering like wind-blown roses athwart -the velvet pall of dusk, and in either direction from that -effulgent bouquet a crimson garland of sentinel fires laid -its miles of length along the valley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Men moved about the nearer fires, appearing to her -distant eyes as dim, dark shapes. But what sight -refused hearing supplied. She heard the cook cursing his -kettles with a volubility that would have brought shame -on the witches in Macbeth—the imprecations of some -lumber-jack at war with a threatened jam. Above all -rose the voice of a violin, quivering its infinite travail, -expressing the throbbing pain of the world; then, from -far up the valley, a lonely tenor floated down the night.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"He went to cut a key-log an' the jam he went below,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>He was the damnedest man that ever I did know."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Some lumberman was relieving his watch by chanting -the deeds of a hero of the camps, and as, like a dove of -night, the voice floated high over the river's growl -through a score of verses, it helped to drive home upon -Helen a sense of the imminent jeopardy Carter had -passed through that day. While her beast pawed its -impatience, she sat for an hour trying to pick his voice -from the hum of the camp. It was easy to distinguish -Bender's. His bass growl formed the substratum of -sound. She caught, once, the Cougar's strident tones. -Then, just as she was beginning to despair, a command, -stern and clear, rose from the void.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lay on there with that pevee! Quick! or you'll -have 'em piled to heaven! Here!—Bender, Cougar!—lend -a hand! this fellow's letting them jam on him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She started as under a lash. All that day she had -lived in a whirl of feeling, and, just as a resolvent -precipitates a chemical mixture, the stern voice reduced -her feeling to thought. Unfortunately, the tone was not -in harmony with her soft misery. If it had been—well, -it was not. Rather it recalled his contempt under -the moonlight, her own solitary shame. Whirling her -bronco, she cut him over the flank and galloped, at -imminent risk of her neck, over the dark prairies in vain -attempt to escape the galling recurrence of injured pride, -the stings of disappointment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He doesn't care for me! He doesn't care for me!" It -rang in her brain. Then, when she was able to think, -she added, in obedience to the sex instinct which will not -admit Love's mortality, "He never did, otherwise he -couldn't have left me!" Her conclusion, delivered that -night into a wet pillow, revealed the secret hope at the root -of her disappointment. "I won't ride that way again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she did, and her changed purpose is best explained -by a conversation between Carter and Bender as they -stood drying themselves at the cook's fire after -averting the threatened jam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter began: "I reckon you can get along well -enough without me. Of course I'd have liked to seen -the drive down to the Assiniboin, but in another week -the frost will be out enough to start prairie grading. -I'll have to go. Let me see.... One week more on the -creek, two on the Assiniboin—three weeks will put the -last timber into Brandon. In less than a month you'll -join me at the Prairie Portage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning to bring another area of soaked clothing next -to the fire, his face came under strong light. These -seven months of thought and calculation had left their -mark upon it—thinned and refined its lines, tooled the -features into an almost intellectual cast. His mouth, -perhaps, evidenced the greatest change, showing less -humor, because, perhaps, self-repression and the habit of -command had drawn the lips in tighter lines. Deeper -set, his eyes seemed darker, while a straight look into -their depths revealed an underlying sadness. Sternness -and sadness, indeed, governed the face, without, -however, banishing a certain grave courtesy that found -expression in pleasant thanks when, presently, the cook -brought them a steaming jug of coffee. Lastly, -determination stamped it so positively that only its lively -intelligence saved it from obstinacy. One glance -explained Bender's answer to Jenny: "He's stiffer'n all -hell!"—his attitude to Helen. In him will dominated the -emotions. Summed, the face, with its power, dogged -resolution, imperturbable confidence, mirrored his past -struggles, gave earnest for his future battles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hint of these last inhered in a remark that Bender -slid in between two gulps of coffee. "They're saying -as the C.P. will never let you cross their tracks?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter smiled. "Yes? Who's saying it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, everybody. An' the Winnipeg paper said -yesterday as 'Old Brass-Bowels'"—he gave the traffic -manager his sobriquet—"will enjoin you an' carry the -case through the Dominion courts to the British privy -council. The newspaper sharp allows that would take -about two years, during which the monopoly would -either buy out or bust your crowd by building a -competing line."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time Carter laughed heartily, the confident laugh -of one sure of himself. "So that's what the paper -said? Well, well, well! That scribe person must be -something of a psychic. What's that? Oh, a fellow -who tells you a whole lot of things he don't know -himself. Now, listen." (In view of what occurred six -months later, his words are worth remembering.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Courts or no courts, privy council to the contrary, -we'll run trains across 'Brass-Bowel's' tracks before -next freeze-up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hope you do," Bender grinned. "But the old man -ain't so very slow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They talked more of construction—tools, supplies, -engineering difficulties, the hundred problems inherent -in railroad-building. Midnight still found them by the -fire, that twinkled, a lone red star, under the enormous -vault of night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, though interesting and important, in that the -success of the enterprise involved the economic freedom -of a province, the conversation—with one exception—is -not germane to this story, which goes on from the -moment that, two days later, a Pengelly boy carried the -news of Carter's departure to Helen at school.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The exception was delivered by the mouth of Bender, -as he rose, stretching with a mighty yawn, to go to his -tent. "Of course it's none of my damn business, but -do you allow to call at the school as you go down to-morrow?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's brows drew into swift lines, but resentment -faded before the big fellow's concern. "I didn't reckon -to," he said, gently; yet added the hint, "—since you're -so pressing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bender would not down. "Oh, shore!" he pleaded. -"Shore! shore!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter looked his impatience, yet yielded another point -to the other's distress. "If Mrs. Carter wished to see me, -I allow she'd send."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then she never will! she never will!" Bender cried, -hitting the crux of their problem. "For she's jes' as -proud as you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With that he plunged into the environing darkness, -leaving Carter still at the fire. From its glow his face -presently raised to the valley's rim, dim and ghostly -under a new moon, ridged with shadowy trees. It was -only six miles to Glaves's place, a hop, skip, and jump in -that country of distances. For some minutes he stood -like a stag on gaze; then, with a slow shake of the head, -he followed Bender.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"An' he ain't coming back till winter," the small boy -informed Helen. "He'll be that busy with his railroading."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After two days of embittered brooding, Helen had -come to consider herself as being in the self-same mood -that had ruled her the January morning when Mrs. Leslie -broke in on her months of loneliness. But this -startling news explained certain contradictions in her -psychology—for instance, her startings and flushings -whenever her north window had shown a moving dot -on the valley trail these last two days. Moreover, her -pallor was hardly consistent with the assertion, thrice -repeated within the hour, that even if he did come she -would never, never, </span><em class="italics">never</em><span> forgive him </span><em class="italics">now</em><span>! Not that -she conceded said contradictions. On the contrary, she -put up a gorgeous bluff with herself, affected indifference, -and—borrowed Jimmy's pony that evening and rode -down to the ford.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender had built a rough bridge to serve traffic till -the drive should clear the ford. Reining in at the -nearer end, Helen looked down on the pool, the famous -pool wherein her betrothal had received baptism by -total immersion—at least she looked on the place where -the pool had been, for shallows and sand-bar were -merged in one swirl of yellow water. But the clay bank -with its bordering willows was still there, and shone -ruddily under the westering sun just as on that memorable -evening. Here, on the straight reach, the logs floated -under care of an occasional patrol. A rough fellow in -blue jeans and red jerkin gave her a curious stare as he -passed, whereafter there was no witness to her wet eyes, -her rain of tears, convulsive sobbing, the break-up of -her indifference—that is, none but her pony. Reaching -curiously around, the beast investigated the grief -huddled upon his neck with soft muzzle, rubbing and sniffing -"cheer up," and she had just straightened to return his -mute sympathy when a voice broke in on the bitter and -sweet of her reverie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well met, fair lady!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning, startled, she came face to face with -Molyneux. The heavy mud of the bottoms had silenced his -wheels, and now he sat smiling at the sudden fires that -dried up and hid her tears. "Not there yet," he answered -her question as to his return home. "Do you imagine -I could go by without calling? The school was closed, -but a kid—a Flynn, by his upper lip—told me that you -had ridden this way; and as it was Friday evening I -judged you were going north to Leslie's, and so drove -like Jehu on the trail of Ahab. Better turn your horse -loose and get in with me. He'll go home all right. -Why not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again she shook her head. "Didn't Mr. Danvers -write you—?" Remembering that a letter would have -crossed him on the Atlantic, she stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter? No one dead? Worse?" He -laughed in her serious face when she had told. "Oh, -well, that's not so bad. After all, Leslie was an awful -chump. If a man isn't strong enough to hold a woman's -love he shouldn't expect to keep her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was yet, of course, in ignorance of all that had -transpired in his absence—the house-party and the -complete revulsion it had wrought in Helen's feelings. -He knew nothing of her shame, vivid remorse, passion of -thankfulness for her escape. To him she was still the -woman, desperate in her loneliness, who had challenged -his love two short months ago. Withal, what possessed -him to afford that glimpse of his old nature? It coupled -him instantly in her mind with her late unpleasant -experience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not understanding her silence, he ran gayly on: "I -can now testify to the truth of the saying, 'Absence -makes the heart grow fonder.' How is it with you? -Have I lost or gained?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Laughing nervously, she answered: "Neither. We -are still the same good friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his head, frowning. "Not enough. I want -love—must, </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Any lingering misapprehension of the state of her -feelings which she may have entertained now instantly -vanished. How she regretted the weakness which -entitled him to speak thus! She knew now. Never, under -any conditions, could she have married him, but, warned -by dearly boughten experience, she dared not so inform -him. Frightened, she fenced and parried, calling to her -aid those shifts for men's fooling that centuries of -helplessness have bred in woman's bone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well!" she laughed. "I thought you more -gallant. I on horseback, you in a buggy. Love at such -long distance! I wouldn't have believed it of you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a bad lead, drawing him on instead of away. -"That is easily remedied. Get in with me—or, I'll tie -up to that poplar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She checked his eagerness with a quick invention. -"No, no! I was only joking. No, I say! There's a -man, a river-driver, just behind that bluff." How she -wished there were! Praying that some one might come -and so afford her safe escape, she switched the -conversation to his journey, and when that subject wore out -enthused over the sunset. How beautiful was the sky—the -shadows that fell like a pall over the bottoms—the -lights slow crawling up the headlands!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Preferring her delicate coloring to the blushes of the -west, he feasted on her profile, delicately outlined against -a golden cloud, until she turned. Then he brought her -back to the point. "Well—have you forgotten?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" She knew too well, but the question killed -a moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The answer you promised me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She would dearly have loved to give it, to cry aloud: -"I love! I love! I love—him, not you!" Ay, she -would have flaunted it in all the proud cruelty of -love—had she dared. Instead, she answered: "You forget! -I am a married woman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't," he urged. "That is easily settled. -Three months' residence across the line, in Dakota, and -you are free of him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But not of myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alarmed by the sudden suffusion of venous blood on -his face and neck, the reddish glow of his eye, she forged -hasty excuses. "You see, I never thought of it—in that -way. I must have time to get used to the idea. Won't -you give me a week?" Her winning smile conquered. -He had stepped his ponies alongside, and, snatching her -hand, he covered it with kisses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By God, Helen, you must say yes! I'm mad—mad -with love of you. If you refuse—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush!" She snatched away her hand as a man -came in sight from behind a bluff, coming up-stream. -"It is Mr. Bender!" she exclaimed—so thankfully. Then, -mindful of her part, she added: "What a nuisance! I -wonder if he—saw you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he'll go by."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no! Leave me the shreds of my character. You -must go. </span><em class="italics">Must!</em><span> I said, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. But remember—one week." Nodding -significantly, he drove off, leaving her struggling with -mixed feelings of relief and apprehension. She -wondered if Bender had seen Molyneux kiss her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though in a few minutes of shy conversation Bender -showed no knowledge of the cause that had set her to -rubbing the back of her hand against her skirt, it -nevertheless formed the subject of a rough scrawl that Baldy, -the tote-trail teamster, delivered to Jenny in Lone Tree -two days later. "You said I was to tell if I saw or -heard anything more. Well, he is back, and—" Followed -the kisses, and the scrawl ended, "If you kin -do anything like you thought you ked, do it quick, else I -shall have to tell the boss and give him a chance to look -after his own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jenny did "do it quick," and thereby initiated a -sequence of cause and event that was to entirely change -the complexion of a dozen lives. An extract from her -letter to Helen explains itself: "'Twas on the tip of my -tongue to tell it to you every time he druv you home last -winter, but 'twas so much easier for me to have you all -believing as it was the man that went back to England. -But 'twasn't, Miss Helen; 'twas him—Capen Molyneux."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Jenny! She alone knew the magnitude of the -man's offence against her weak innocence, but, small -stoic, she had hugged the knowledge to her soul while -waiting in dull patience for the punishment she never -doubted. Immunity would have challenged the -existence of the God on whom, despite small heresies of -speech, she devoutly leaned. She read his sentence in -that most tremendous curse of the oppressor, the One -Hundredth and Ninth Psalm, the bitter cry of David: -"For he hath rewarded me evil ... hatred for my love. -When he shall be judged, let him be condemned; and -his prayer become sin.... Let his children be continually -vagabonds, seek their bread in desolate places. Let the -extortioner catch all that he hath; the stranger despoil -his labor. Let there be none to extend mercy to him.... -Let his posterity be cut off and his generation blotted -out ... that He may cut off the memory of them from -the earth." Ay, she had believed that it would come -to pass in some way—by lightning-flash, sudden sickness, -a weary death. But she had never imagined herself as -the instrument which this letter was to make her. What -the confession cost her! Tears, shameful agonizings! -Small wonder that, in her trembling confusion, she -mis-shuffled notes and slid Helen's into Bender's envelope.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-wages-of-sin"><span class="bold large">XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE WAGES OF SIN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the afternoon following Baldy's delivery of the -shuffled notes, the May sun diffused a tempered -warmth upon Molyneux's veranda, thereby intensifying -certain comfortable reflections which accompanied his -after-dinner pipe. He had material cause of satisfaction. -To begin, his father's death placed him in possession -of a sum which—a mere pittance in England—loomed -large as a fortune in the thrifty settlements. -Next, Messrs. Coxhead & Boxhead, exploiters of the -Younger Son, and his London solicitors, had forwarded -through that morning's mail indentures of apprenticeship -to colonial farming of three more innocents at one -thousand dollars a head per annum. This more than -made up for the defection of Danvers, who, having -learned how little there was to be learned in the -business, was adventuring farming for himself. It also -permitted the retention of the bucolic Englishman and wife, -who respectively managed Molyneux's farm and house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With their service assured, the life was more than -tolerable, infinitely superior to that which he would have -led at home. There he would have been condemned to -the celibate lot of the younger son—to be a "filler" at -dinners and dances, useful as the waiters, ineligible and -innocuous to the plainest of his girl partners as an -Eastern eunuch; or, accepting the alternative, trade, -vulgar trade, his pampered wits would have come into -competition with abilities that had been whetted to a -fine edge through centuries on time's hard stone. Like -a leaden plummet, he would have plunged through the -social strata to his natural place in the scheme of things. -Here, however, he was of some importance, a magnate -on means that would hardly have kept up his clothes -and clubs at home. A landed proprietor, moreover, he -escaped the stigma of trade, and the resultant prejudice, -should he ever return to live in England.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the life glowed with the colors of romance. His -farm occurred on the extreme western edge of that vast -forest which blackens the Atlantic seaboard, and so -marches west and north over a thousand rugged miles -to the limit of trees on the verge of the Barren Lands. -Within gunshot the old ferocious struggle for life -continued as of yore. Through timbered glades the wolf -pursued and made his kill; echo answered the clash of -horns as big elk fought for a doe; over lonely woodland -lakes, black with water-fowl, the hoo-haugh crane spread -ten feet of snowy pinion; across dark waters the loon's -weird lament replied to the owl's midnight questioning. -In winter the moose came down from their yards to feed -at his prairie hay-stacks; any night he could come out -on the veranda and thrill to a long howl or the scream -of a lynx.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Opening before him now, the view was pleasantly -beautiful. His house, a comfortable frame building, -and big barn and corrals, all sat within the embrace of -a half-moon that prairie-fires had bitten out from the -heart of a poplar bluff. Southward his tilled fields ran -like strips of brown carpet over the green earth rolls. -Beyond them spread the Park Lands, with his cattle -feeding knee-deep in the rank pasture between clump -poplar. Further still, his horses scented the wind from -the crest of a knoll, forming a dull blotch against the -soft blue sky. These were growing into money while -he smoked, and what of free grazing, free hay, and labor -that reversed the natural order of things and paid for the -privilege of working, he could see himself comfortably -wealthy in not too many seasons. He would still be -young enough for a run through Maiden Lane, London's -Mecca for the stage and </span><em class="italics">demi-mondaine</em><span>. However, he -put that thought behind him as being inconsistent with -contemplation of the last thing necessary for perfect -happiness—a pretty wife. Through the haze of sunlit -tobacco reek, he saw himself in possession of even that -golden asset, and thereafter his reflections took the -exact color of those of the rich man before death came -in the night: "Soul, soul! Thou hast much goods laid -up in store! Eat, drink, take thine ease, and be merry!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is really time that I settled," he murmured. -"Thirty-four, my next birthday. By Jove! six more -years and I shall be forty!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thought deflected his meditation into channels -highly becoming to a person of the age he was contemplating, -and from virtuous altitudes he looked back with -something of the reproving tolerance that kindly age -accords to youthful indiscretion. He maintained the -"you-were-a-sad-dog" point of view till a sudden -thought stung his virtuous complacency through to the -quick. "Oh, well"—he ousted reproach with exculpatory -murmur—"if the girl had only let me, I would -have got her away from here and have done something -handsome for her afterwards. But it was just as -well—seeing that it passed off so quietly. I wonder how she -managed it? Nobody seems to know." Then, ignoring -the fact that every seeding brings its harvest, not -knowing that the measure of that cruel sowing was even then -coming home to him on a fast trot, he smothered -conviction under the trite reflection, "A fellow must sow his -wild oats."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still the thought had marred his reverie, and, tapping -his pipe on the chair-rung, he rose. He intended a visit -to the barn, where his man was dipping seed wheat in -bluestone solution to kill the smut; but just then a -wagon, which had been rattling along the Lone Tree -trail, turned into his private lane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Glaves," he muttered. "And his wife. What -can they want? Must have a message—from her; -otherwise they would never come here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His thought did not malign the trustee, who had -positively refused the commission till assured that its -performance would sever Helen's relations with his natural -foes. Yet he did not like it, and though retribution -might have presented herself in more tragic guise, she -could not have assumed a more forbidding face than -that which he now turned down to Molyneux.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Than they two there have been no more violent -contrast. Beak-nosed, hollow-eyed, the hoar of fifty -winters environed the trustee's face, which wind and -weather had warped, seamed, and wrinkled into the -semblance of a scorched hide. He was true to the -frontier type; and beside his bronzed ruggedness, the -Englishman, though much the larger man, seemed, with -his soft hands, smooth skin, and polished manner, to be -small and effeminate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As might be expected, the trustee refused Molyneux's -invitation to put in and feed. "No; me an' the wife is -going up to see her brother, north of Assissippii, an' we -have thirty miles to make afore sundown."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did, however, return curt answers to a few questions, -though it would be a mistake to set his scant -conversational efforts to the account of politeness. Rather -they were the meed of malignance, for, while talking, he -secretly exulted over the thought of Molyneux's coming -disappointment. They would be gone a week, he said. -The mails? Mrs. Carter would attend to sech letters as -straggled in. She'd be there alone? Yes. Lonesome? -Mebbe, but she was that well-plucked she'd laughed at -the idea of spending her nights at Flynn's. A fine girl, -sirree! Having accorded five minutes to Helen's perfections, -the trustee drove off, but turned, as he rattled out -of the yard, and nudged his wife, grinning, to look at -Molyneux.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stark and still as one of his own veranda-posts, the -man stood and stared down at Jenny's pitiful letter. -Across the top Helen had written, "This explains itself," -and that scrap of writing represented three letters now -torn up and consigned to the flames. The first -antedated her receipt of Jenny's letter, and had run: "I -want you to believe me innocent of coquetry, and you -must pardon me if I have, by speech or action, seemed -to sanction the hope you expressed the other day. I -now perceive that it was my desperate loneliness that -caused me to lean so heavily upon your friendship. I -might have told you this personally but for certain -experiences which have made me timid." There was -more—regret, pleasant hope that the future might bring -with it friendly relations, wishes for his happiness. This -letter she had withdrawn from the mail to burn, along -with one that was full of reproach, and a third that -sizzled with indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suffused with dark, venous blood, Molyneux faced -discovered sin. If ever, this was the accepted time for his -attempts at reconstruction to bring forth fruit. He had -pictured himself remorseful, but now that the wage of -sin was demanded, he flinched like a selfish child, -reneged in the game he had played with the gods. It -was not in him to play a losing hand to the logical end. -Instead of remorse, anger possessed him, for, tearing the -letter, he cried in a gust of passion:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She sha'n't throw me a second time! By God, she sha'n't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Needs not to follow his turbulent thought as he -hurried out to the barn—his flushes, the paroxysms that -set his face in the colors of apoplexy. Sufficient that -flooding passion swept clean the superstructure of false -morality, sophistical idealism, that he had erected on -the rotten foundation of his vicious heredity. A minute -of action explains a volume of psychology. Hitching his -ponies, he drove madly southward, one idea standing -clearly out in his whirl of thought—she would be alone -that night.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Just about the time that Molyneux swung out on the -Lone Tree trail, Helen arrived home from school with -the eldest Flynn boy, who had volunteered to help her -with the chores, her undertaking of which had made -possible Mrs. Glaves's rare holiday. Under distress of -their bursting udders, the cows had come in of their own -accord from the fat, rank pastures, and now called for -easement, with low, persistent "mooing," while she -changed her dress. When she finally came out, with -sleeves rolled above elbows that had regained their -plump whiteness, they even fought for precedence, -horning each other aside until the bell-cow made good -her prerogative as leader; then frothing streams soon -drew tinkling music from her pail. For his part, the -boy fed pigs and calves, carried in the milk, then -departed, leaving her to skim and strain, and wash pans -and pails, itself no light task in view of Mrs. Glaves's -difficult standards of cleanliness. That done and her -supper eaten, she placed a lamp on the table and sat -down to think over the events of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little fatigued, she leaned a smooth cheek on her -hand, staring at the lamp, whose golden light toned -while it revealed the changes these distressful months -had wrought in her appearance. Her eyes were weary, -her face tired; but if she was paler than of yore, the -pallor was becoming, in that it was altogether a mental -product and accorded well with her plump, well-nourished -body. Her mouth, if wofully pouted in agreement -with her sad thought, was scarlet and pretty as ever. -In every way she was good as new.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first she had found it extremely difficult to realize -the full meaning of the letter which the Cougar had -brought in from the camp early that morning. For -Bender would trust it in no other hand; whereby he -discovered not only his wisdom, but also an unexpected -fund of tact in his rough messenger. Anticipating some -display of emotion, the Cougar discharged his office in -the privacy of Helen's own room; and if her red eyes -afterwards excited Jimmy Glaves's insatiable curiosity, -only the Cougar witnessed her breakdown—sorrowful -tremblings, blushes, tearful anger. Not that she had -doubted the girl's word. Only it had seemed monstrous, -incredible, impossible, until, through the day, jots and -tittles of evidence had filtered out of the past. She had -connected Jenny's gloomings on the occasions that -Molyneux drove her (Helen) home with his refusals to enter -and warm himself after their cold drives. Even from -the far days of the child's trouble, small significances had -come to piece out the solid proof. So now nothing was -left for her but bitter self-communion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These days it did seem as though the fates were bent -on squeezing the last acrid drop into her cup; for to the -consciousness of error was now added knowledge of the -utter worthlessness of her tempter. She burned as she -recalled their solitary rides; writhed slim fingers in a -passion of thankfulness as she thought of her several -escapes; was taxing herself for her folly when a sudden -furious baying outside brought her, startled, to her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was merely the house-dog exchanging defiances -with a lone coyote; but—after she had satisfied herself -of the fact—it yet brought home upon her a vivid sense -of her lonely position. Sorry now that she had not gone -home with the Flynn boy, she glanced nervously about -the room, which, if small, was yet large enough to own -shadowy corners. On top of the pigeon-holed mailing-desk, -moreover, a few books were piled in such a way -as to cast a shadow, the silhouette of a man's profile, -upon the wall. Lean, hard, indescribably cruel, its thin -lips split in a merciless grin as she moved the lamp, then -suddenly lengthened into the semblance of a hand -and pointing finger. Then she laughed, nervously, yet -laughed because it indicated one of the hundred -summonses, writs of execution, and findings in judgment -that were pasted up on the walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By these summons," Victoria Regina called upon -her subject, James Glaves, to pay the moneys and taxed -costs herein set forth under pain of confiscation of his -goods and chattels. Usually recording debt and disaster, -the instruments certified, in Jimmy's case, to numerous -victories over implement trusts, cordage monopolies, -local or foreign Shylocks. "Execution proof," in that -his wife owned their real property in her own right, he -could sit and smoke at home, the cynosure of the -country-side, in seasons when the sheriff travelled with the -thresher and took in all the grain. To each document -he could append a story, the memory of such a one -having caused Helen's laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indicating this particular specimen with his pipe-stem -one evening, he had remarked: "Yon jest tickled the -jedge to death. 'Mr. Glaves,' he says, when he handed -it down, 'they've beat you on the jedgment, now it's up -to you to fool 'em on the execution.' An' you bet I -did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reassured, Helen returned to her musings, only to -start up, a minute later, with a nervous glance over her -shoulder at the window. Is there anything in thought -transference? At that moment Molyneux was rattling -down into the dark valley, and is it possible that his -heated imaginings bridged the miles and impressed -themselves upon her nervous mental surfaces? Or was it -merely a coincidence of thought that caused her to see -his face pressed against the black pane. Be this as it -may, she could not regain her composure. Taking the -lamp, she locked herself in her bedroom; then she sought -that last refuge of frightened femininity, the invulnerable -shield of the bedclothes.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="is-death"><span class="bold large">XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">—IS DEATH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Though Silver Creek still ran fat and full, its -sources were now nearly drained of flood-waters; -any day might see it suddenly shrink to its usual -summer trickle. Anticipating the event, Bender went miles -down-stream that morning to superintend the building -of the first dam, and so did not see the Cougar till that -worthy came into camp at night from his own place at -the tail of the drive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This, the hour for changing shifts, was the liveliest of -camp life—the social hour, one might term it, replete -with a certain rough comfort. With them, from up -and down river, the reliefs poured in, a stream of red -shirts, drowning with oaths, song, and laughter the -rattle of tin-ware in the cook-tent. Spread over fifteen -miles of river, the arrival was equally irregular, and -those who had already eaten were grouped about a -huge camp-fire, the red glow of which enriched weathered -skins and softened the corrugations of iron faces. -After the cold and wet of the day, its warmth spelled -luxury in capitals—luxury such as no millionaire may -command from his palatial clubs, for pleasure may only -be measured in degrees of health with accompanying -intensity of sensation. As they moved and turned like -huge red capons on an old-style spit, bringing fresh -areas of soaked clothing under the blaze, they smoked -and revamped the day's haps, its dips, jams, duckings, -while the river—the river that yielded their hard bread -in exchange for annual toll of a life or two—rebuked -with angry growl their jokes and jestings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A candle in Bender's tent showed the giant squatted -upon his blankets, chin on hands, big torso hunched -between knees and elbows. A night and day of heavy -brooding had sunk his eyes; despair had cross-ploughed -and deepened the furrows across his blue, scarred face. -The attitude bespoke deepest dejection, and his look, -when the Cougar entered, caused the latter's weird -fierceness to flux in vast sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" Bender inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Cougar pulled a paper out of his shirt-bosom. -"Here's your letter that she got by mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was only a scrap to say that she would do her best—she -had done it, too, poor girl!—that and an admonition -to be careful in drying his clothes at nights. Usually -the warning would have dissolved Bender's grimness, -but it caused no relaxation of his gravity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did she take it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hard. Cried an' said as 'twas more'n she deserved -at the little gal's hands. Blamed herself—dreadful cut -up. Seems, too, as 'twasn't necessary, as she'd already -mailed Mr. Man his walking-papers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Too late—now. It's done."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Cougar looked awkwardly down upon him. Pity -had been foreign to their rough comradeship; it was, -indeed, nearest of kin to shame; the words of sympathy -choked in his throat. "Come, come!" he presently -growled. "Chipper up! 'Tain't any worse than it was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A convulsion seized and shook the big body. "You -don't know, Cougar. You don't know what it is—" He -stopped, aghast at the sudden appalling change in -the other. He had straightened from his crouch, and -his eyes flared like blue, alcohol flames in his livid face. -As at the touch of a secret spring, the man's fierce -taciturnity raised, exposing the tortured soul behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—don't?" The whisper issued like a dry wind -from drawn lips. "Me?—that saw my wife an' baby—" Though -frontiersmen tell, shivering, of the horror he -mentioned, no pen has been found callous enough to set -it forth on paper. "God, man!" His arms snapped -outward and his head fell forward in the attitude of -the crucifixion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cougar!" Bender grasped his shoulder. "Cougar! -Cougar, man! I'd forgotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as one in a trance the man went on: "It's always -with me—through these years—day an' night. I'd have -killed myself—long ago—on'y whenever I'd think of -that, she'd come—sweet an' smiling—with a shake of -her pretty head. She wouldn't let me do it." The -thought of her smile seemed to calm him, and he -continued, more quietly: "I never could make out why -'twas done to her. A sky-pilot tol' me onct as 'twas -the will o' God, but I shocked him clean out of his -boots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'I'll know on the Jedgment Day, will I?' I asks -him. 'Shorely,' he answers, pat. 'An' I'll be close in -to the great white throne you was talking about?' He -nods. 'Then do you know what I'll do?' I asks him -again. 'If I find out as how that God o' yourn ordered -that done to my little gal, I'll stick a knife into Him an' -turn it round.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At that he turned green an' tried to saddle the dirty -business onto the devil. But, Lordy, he didn't know. -She does, though, else she wouldn't come smiling. She -knows; so I've allus reckoned as if she could bear her -pain I can worry through to the end. There! there! -I'm all right again. You didn't go to do it. An', after -all, I don't know but that you are right. For while my -gal's at peace, yourn has to live out her pain. It's -puzzling—all of it. Now there's </span><em class="italics">him</em><span>. Where does he come -in? What about him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about him?" Bender's bulk seemed to swell in -the dim light to huge, amorphous proportions. "That's -simple. He's got to marry her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What the conclusion had cost him!—the suffering, -self-sacrifice. To the sophisticated, both sacrifice and -conclusion may seem absurd, provoking the question as to -just how wrong may be righted by the marriage of a -clean girl with an impure man; yet it was strictly in -accord with backwoods philosophy. As yet the scepticism -of modernity had not infected the plains, nor had -the leprosy of free thought rotted their creeds and -institutions. To Bender's simplicity, marriage appealed -as the one cure for such ills as Jenny's, while both he -and the Cougar had seen the dose administered with aid -of a Colt's forty-five. So, absurd or not, the conclusion -earned the latter's instant approval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was something pathetic, too, in the serious -way in which, after discussing ways and means, they -spoke of Jenny's future. "She'll be a lady," the Cougar -commented. "Too big to look at you an' me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender's nod incarnated self-effacement, but he -bristled when the Cougar suggested that Molyneux might -not treat her rightly, and his scowl augured a quick -widowhood in such premises. "We'll go up for him -to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' after it's all over?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oregon for you an' me—the camps an' the big timber."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big timber! The Cougar's bleak face lit up with -sudden warmth. Giant pines of Oregon woods; rose-brown -shade of cathedral redwoods; the roaring unrest -of lacy cataracts; peace of great rivers that float the -rafts and drives from snow-capped Rockies down to -the blue Pacific; these, and the screaming saw-mills -that spew their product over the meridians, the pomp -of that great piracy; the sights, sounds, resinous odors -that the Cougar would never experience again were -vividly projected into his consciousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Man!" He drew a deep breath. "It can't come -too quick for me. I'm sick of these plains, where a man -throws a shadow clean to the horizon. I'm hungry for -the loom of the mountains." After a pause, he added, -"Coming back to yourself—have you eaten to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The language he accorded to Bender's negative would -shake the type from a respectable printer's fingers, yet, -in essence, was exactly equivalent to the "You poor -dear!" of an anxious wife or mother. Striding off, he -quickly returned with coffee and food, which Bender -was ordered to eat under pain of instant loss of his liver, -lights, and sundry other useful organs. Then, being -besotted in his belief in action as a remedy for mental -disorders, he suggested a visit to the turn above the -bridge where the logs had jammed twice that afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another day would put the last log under the bridge -and see the temporary structure dismantled and afloat; -but though only the tail of the drive remained above, -the jams had backed it up for a couple of miles, so that -the logs now filled the river from bank to bank. They -floated silently, or nearly so, for the soft thud of -collisions, mutter of grinding bark, merged with the low roar -of the stream. But a brilliant northern moon lit the -serried array; when the men crossed they could pick the -yellow sawed ends from the black of the mass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Under urge of the same thought, they paused on the -other side and looked back along the northern trail. -With the exception of the cook, whose pots proclaimed his -labors with shrill tintinnabulation, the camp now slept, -its big watch-fire burning red and low. Beneath that -bright moon scrub, bluff, scour, ravine, and headland -stood out, lacking only the colors of day, and they could -see the trail's twin ruts writhing like black snakes across -the ashen bottoms into the gorge by which it gained the -prairies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Cougar's quick eye first discerned a moving blot, -but Bender gave it identity. "That's shore Molyneux's -rig. He'd a loose spoke when he went by t'other day. -Hear it rattle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was clear and sharp as the clatter of a boy's stick -along a wooden paling, and the Cougar whispered: "It's -sure him. Where kin he be going? Do you reckon—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The same thought was in Bender's mind. "An' she -there alone. No one ever starts out for Lone Tree this -time o' night." After a grim pause, he added, "But -that's where he's going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A strident chuckle told that the Cougar had caught -his meaning. "That's right. Saved us trouble, hain't -he? Kind of him. Jes' step into the shadow till he's -fairly on the bridge."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If they had remained in the moonlight he would never -have seen them. Dusk had brought no surcease of his -mad thought; rather its peace stimulated his excitement -by shutting him out from the visible world. What were -his thoughts? It takes a strong man to face his -contemplated villanies. From immemorial time your -scoundrel has been able to justify his acts by some sort of -crooked reasoning, and Molyneux was no exception to -the rule. "Why do you muddy the water when I am -drinking?" the wolf asked of the lamb. "How could I, -sir, seeing that the stream flows from you to me?" the -lamb filed in exception. "None of your insolence!" the -wolf roared as he made his kill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the same way Molyneux excluded from thought -everything that conflicted with his intention—the first -rudeness that lost him Helen's maiden confidence, his -insidious attempts to wean her from her husband, her -undoubted right to reject his advances. He twisted his -own crime to her demerit. "She didn't know about -that when she was drawing me on!" he exclaimed, -whenever Jenny's letter thrust into his meditation. "Why -should it cut any ice now? It is just an excuse to -throw me a second time. But she sha'n't do it, by God! no, -she sha'n't, she sha'n't! She's a coquette!—a damned -coquette! I'll—" Then a red rage, a heaving, tumultuous -passion, would drown articulate thought so that his -intention never took form in words. But one thing is -certain—he was thoroughly dangerous. In that mood -Helen would have fared as illy at his hands as the lamb -at the paws of the wolf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sudden stoppage of his ponies, midway of the -bridge, broke up his reverie. As the moon struck full -in his own face, he saw the two men only as shadows; -but there was no mistaking Bender's bulk, and, after a -single startled glance, Molyneux hailed him. "Is that -you, Mr. Bender?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's me, all right. Where might </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> be heading for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the usual trail greeting, preliminary to -conversation, but Molyneux sensed a difference of tone, savor -of command, menace of authority, that galled his -haughty spirit. Vexed by the impossibility of explanation, -his disdain of the settler tribe in general would not -permit him to lie; from which conflict of feeling his stiff -answer was born.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see that it is any of your business."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't?" Equally stiff, the reply issued from -the huge, dim shape. "Well, I'll make it mine. You're -going to Lone Tree."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Puzzled, Molyneux glanced from Bender's indefiniteness -to the Cougar's dim crouch. He was not afraid. -In him the courage of his vices was reinforced by -enormous racial and family pride—the combination that -made the British fool the finest of officers until -mathematics and quick-firing artillery replaced the sword and -mêlée. Mistaking the situation, he attempted to carry -it off with a laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you chaps been drinking? Here; pass -the bottle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not till we wet your wedding," the Cougar -interjected, dryly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Astonished now, as well as puzzled, Molyneux yet -rejected a sudden suspicion as impossible. Out of -patience, galled by this mysterious opposition, he said, -testily: "Are you crazy? I do not intend—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"—To go to Lone Tree," Bender interrupted. "Yes, -we know. You was heading up for Glaves's place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seriously disconcerted, Molyneux hid it under an -ironical laugh. "I must say that I marvel at your -intimate knowledge of my affairs. And since you are -so well posted, perhaps you can tell me why I am going -to Lone Tree?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I kin that." The huge, dim figure, with its crouched, -attendant shadow, moved a pace nearer, then the man's -stern bass launched on the quivering moonlight, reciting -to an accompaniment of rushing waters this oldest of -woodland sagas. Beginning at the night he picked -Jenny up on the trail, he told all—Jed Hines's cruel fury; -birth and burial of his, Molyneux's child; the outcast -girl's subsequent illness; Helen's kindness; the doctor's -philanthropy; the kindly conspiracy that protected her -from social infamy. "An' us that saw her through her -trouble," he finished, "are bound to see her righted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If the lime-lights of history and fiction were thrown -more often upon motives and psychology, and less on -deeds and action, characters would not appear in such -hard colors of black and white. It were false to paint -Molyneux irredeemably black. "</span><em class="italics">Your child!</em><span>" He -winced at the phrase, and, perhaps for the first time, -an inkling of the enormity of his offence was borne in -upon him. </span><em class="italics">His</em><span> child? It was the flesh of his own -loins that had suffered midnight burial at the hands of -Carter and the kindly priest! The thought struck with -enormous force—then faded. For back of him was that -vicious generation whose most cultured exponent wrote -to his own son that a seduction or two was necessary -to the education of a gentleman. Through pride of -family, the dead hands of haughty and licentious -forebears reached to throttle remorse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was he to be called to account by common settlers, -the </span><em class="italics">savages</em><span> of the scornful English phrase? Anger -colored his next remark: "Waited till you were good and -ready, didn't you? Your diligence falls short of your -zeal, my friends, or—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't flatter yourself," Bender sternly interrupted. -"You kin thank her for the delay. If we'd known, -you'd long ago have been either dead or married. But -she kep' her own counsel till she thought as some one -else's welfare called her to speak. 'Twasn't needed. -T'other'd already found you out for herself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Molyneux blinked under the savage contempt, but -answered, stiffly enough: "Now listen. I deny nothing, -though she received attentions from one of my pupils, -and it might very well have been—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You lie!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lie never comes so unpleasantly as when asserting -a truth; so, though he knew that he had lied, Molyneux's -eyes glinted wickedly, his hand tightened on his whip. -A glance right and left showed him the river, only a -light hand-rail between him and dark waters. There -was not room to turn; the giant blocked the way. -Under constraint, he spoke quietly: "Neither do I -profess sorrow. What is done is done. If the girl had -taken me into her confidence—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Likely, wasn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A line of Jenny's letter, a damnable fact, flashed into -Molyneux's mind, but he went on: "—I'd have taken -care of her—am willing to do so yet, in a certain way. -Marriage, of course, is out of the question. We are -unfitted for each other—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one's denying that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He ignored the sarcasm. "—could not be happy together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who said anything about your living together?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The interruptions were most disconcerting, but he -continued: "Now if you, as her representatives, -self-appointed or otherwise"—he could not refrain from the -sarcasm—"if you will name a sum—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">What?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Twenty rods away the camp now slept, steeped in the -drug of labor—all but the cook, who came running out -of his tent and was thus witness of the event. Looking -up-stream, he saw them blackly silhouetted against the -moonlit sky, a shadow show, play of marionettes upon -the bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Out of my way! Let go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Followed the swish and crack of Molyneux's whip, as -he lashed Bender over the face, then fell to flogging his -horses. But stinging pain freed in the giant those -bulldog passions that had made him king of the camps in -other years. He hung on, while the plunging beasts -drowned the river's roar in thunder of iron hoofs. -Unable to break his grip, they reared—their smooth, -elongated bodies conveying to the cook an odd -impression of slugs reaching upward through moonlit -dew—then, stooping quickly under the nigh beast, the mad -giant took its full weight on his shoulder and with a -mighty heave sent team and rig crashing sideways off -the bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quick leap saved Molyneux—for the moment. All -through the action had moved with kinetoscopic quickness, -and it accelerated so that the cook could scarcely -establish its sequence. Like an angry bull, Bender shook -the hair from his eyes; then, as he rushed, came a -report; a puff of smoke curled bluely up from Molyneux's -hand; the giant thudded at length on the bridge. -Followed a yell, a piercing cry suitable to the animal after -which the Cougar was named. As Bender fell, he rushed. -The pistol spoke again. While the cook was running -twenty yards, a black, furious tangle writhed over the -bridge, and as he came darting out from behind a bunch -of willow scrub he saw that it was gone. Bender lay -alone under the moonlight.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Now this was the cook of a lumber-camp, equivalent -to saying that he was a man of parts. He had cooked -on B Contract, Superior Construction Division of the -Trunk Line, and so had seen a liberal sprinkling of his -grumblers go into the dump—a grisly foundation for -track, surely yet what better could the builders of the -road desire than to be cradled under the ties and sleep, -sleep, sleep, to the thundering lullaby of the fast -express? Which intimacy with the pale terror is -responsible for his prompt action in these unusual premises. -Molyneux's bullet had merely grazed Bender's temple. -He rose, staggering, as the cook made the bridge, and, -seeing that he was too sick and dizzy to handle the -situation, the latter took it into his own able hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As before mentioned, a drive camp sleeps in its boots, -and the shots had brought a score out from their sleep -on a hunt for causes. "Man drove offen the bridge!" -he yelled. "An' Cougar went after him! They're both -under the drive! Scatter down-stream an' skin your -eyes for bubbles!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus, on the spur of the moment, the cook wrote -history—as accurately, perhaps, as the run of historians; -for after the drive once closed serried ranks over the -struggling men, they were never seen again, so none -could rise with an opposing theory. When, a few days -later, the water was drawn off at the first dam, the horses -floated out on the shallows. But the men—? The river -carried them to its secret places; buried them in some -scour or pothole, free at last, one of his passions—the -incubus of his generations—the other from his pain. -That night, if such things be, the Cougar was joined, -after his years of suffering, in perfect knowledge with -his "little girl."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="persecution"><span class="bold large">XXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PERSECUTION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Yes, the cook made history, for though the event -furnished gossip for the ninety days which, on the -lonely frontier, corresponds with the world's nine days' -wonder, his story was never questioned. The truth lay -buried between him and Bender, and if either visited -her grave, it was never in company with the other. -Up to the time that delirium tremens removed the -cook from the snows of a Rocky Mountain camp to -a sphere where pots are said to boil with or without -watching, Bender never knew just how much or little -he really knew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To others the event appeared under varying complexions. -Helen and Jenny were shocked at Molyneux's -death, the latter without astonishment, though her firm -belief that sin had at last received its full wage was -without trace of malignance; both were sorrier than -they had any right to be; and both mourned the -Cougar. As for the settlers, they regarded the affair -rather in the light of a special dispensation of -Providence. Flocking to the auction of Molyneux's effects a -month later, they caballed against high bidding, paid -for chattels they bought at ridiculous prices in -long-time notes, for that was the "Black Year," and -throughout Manitoba nothing could be sold for cash.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poverty, sociologists tell us, is the mother of crime, -and as those hard times subsequently influenced the -settlers in their attitude towards Helen, they are surely -worthy of mention. To begin, the country was practically -bankrupt. The frost of the preceding fall had -left the wheat useless, and but for the fact that the -provincial government had imported and distributed -free seed, not an acre of grain would have been sown -that year. The seriousness of the crisis may be gauged -by the legislature's further action in enacting an -exemption law that practically excluded all of a farmer's -goods and chattels from legal execution. This was good, -but in that it was not, nor could be made retroactive, -it benefited only the new-comers and left the pioneers, -who had spent their little all opening up the country, -still liable to foreclosure and execution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the northern settlers times had borne particularly -hard. During boom years all had assumed loan -indebtedness, and whereas creditors had bided patiently -successive lean seasons on the chance of a branch -railroad and bumper crop, now that the country's credit, -its very future was trembling in the balance; implement-men -and store-keepers raced with twenty-per-cent. Shylocks -to grab what they could from the wreck. That -spring the sheriff of Brandon was the busiest man in -the country-side. He and his deputies sowed summonses, -executions, foreclosures broadcast over the land. Wolves -of the law, they harried the farmers till the optimism -of the brilliant emigration pamphlets was swamped, -submerged beneath inky pessimism. Small wonder -that—coupled with idleness, breeder of mischief, in the slack -season that Glaves feared between seeding and haying—small -wonder that some of the rancor bred by hard -conditions should be vented upon Helen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She may be said to have stood in an uncomfortable -position as lightning conductor between this cloud of -spleen and the earth, upon which it should have -properly been discharged. And looking back, one may see -the storm gathering over her fair head, observing in -its approach all of the natural phenomena: first the cold -wind, social disfavor, the whispers; next, heavy drops -thudding in the dust, the snubs and slights; lastly, -thunder, lightning, rain, downright persecution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whispers, of course, she did not hear, but she could -not overlook the difference in trail greetings, which -were either far too warm or much too cool, according -to the years and disposition of the greeter. Coldness -was endurable, but the rude stares, conscious laughter -of the younger boors often caused her to fly the hot -colors of angry shame. Yet even this hurt less than -the sudden, shy suspicion of her pupils. Whereas they -were wont to hang upon her skirts, they now held aloof -in play hours, and ran straight home from school.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother says I'm not to walk with you any more," -one tot explained her haste. How that stung! Having -only the faintest of ideas, little more than a suspicion -of the strength and nature of this uncomfortable -prejudice, she resented it as bitter injustice, and held a -proud head until a thing happened that almost broke -her spirit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of all the settler women, Ruth Murchison was the one -girl with whom Helen had been, or could be, on -anything like terms of intimacy. Quiet and thoughtful, -Ruth had gone through the English common schools, -and had taken the Junior Oxford Examination, to which -passable education a taste for good reading had formed -a further bond. Wherefore Helen was delighted when, -one day, news drifted into the post-office that Ruth was -to be married to the Probationer, the young minister -who preached Merrill's funeral sermon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Borrowing a beast from Glaves, she rode north one -evening to offer congratulations, and as the Murchisons -lived several miles north of Silver Creek Valley, night -fell while she still lacked half a mile of the homestead. -From that distance the windows' yellow blaze advised -of fuss and busy preparation. Drawing nearer, voices, -laughter, the whir of an egg-beater, clatter of cooking-gear -came down the trail merrily freighting the dusk. -Infected by the cheer, she gave a shrill halloa, spurred -to a gallop, and drew in at the door with a clatter of -hoofs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ruth! Oh, Ruth!" she called. "Ruth-y!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instantly the voices hushed, then, after an uncomfortable -pause, she heard Mrs. Murchison say, in thin, -constrained tones, "Mrs. Carter is out there, father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Followed a shuffling, and the door opened revealing -Murchison framed in yellow light. Stout, robust, ruddy, -with that mottled-beef English complexion, he came of -that stout yeoman stock whose twanging long-bows -sounded France's knell at Crecy and Poitiers, of that rich -blood the slow drainage of which to her colonies has left -England flabby, ensemic, flaccid. He had not wished to -leave, but the motherland had become industrial -without further place for her yeoman. Over fields that -were enriched by the tilth of thirty Murchison -generations, a thousand factories were depositing soot and -blighting acids. American wheat and beeves had wiped -out profits, while enormous rents ate up the farmer's -substance. So Murchison, England's best, had become -partner in exile with the remittance-men, her worst. -Undoubtedly, there was no symptom of remittance -weakness in the scowl he turned on Helen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Behind him Helen could see Ruth, red and embarrassed, -hanging her head over the egg-beater. A half-dozen -girls and neighboring women, who had come in -to help in the baking and brewing, were exchanging -meaning glances across the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ruth? She's well," Murchison answered her question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew what to expect now, but nerved herself to -face the situation. "Can't I see her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because she don't run with your kind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mr. Murchison!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt the heart sickness, yet glowered relentlessly, -for it had been the habit of his forebears to thrash their -women into good behavior. He itched to do it now for -the good of her soul, but, lacking the power, he growled:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you don't like it—keep better company."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If he had been alone, she would undoubtedly have -challenged his reproach and, while clearing herself in -his eyes, have turned away future trouble. But a -titter from within fired her pride. "Very well, please -give her my congratulations." And turning she rode -away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Good-hearted as rough, Murchison stared after, -stricken with sudden compunction. He knew that she must -have intended to stay the night, and here she was a -timorous woman riding out into the darkness. "Here!" -he shouted. "Come back!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she held on, eyes snapping, cheeks aflame, throat -convulsed under the strain of suppressing imminent -hysteria. Beyond earshot she broke down, venting her -injured loneliness in broken speech between bursts of -sobbing. "They hate—me. Condemn me—because—my -husband left me. It wasn't my—fault—that is, -altogether." She hastily corrected herself. "Of -course—I failed him. But I was—sorry—would have done -better—if he had—given me a chance. He's so stern—and -stiff—" She would not even let this undoubted -truth pass unmodified. "But then—he thought I -didn't—love him. Perhaps I didn't—then. I was a -little fool. But I do! I do!" She stretched wild arms -to the darkness. "I do! I do! I do!" But the -velvet night returned nothing to her embrace and she -collapsed, sobbing, upon the pony's neck. Still the cry -did her good, tided over hysteria, composed and quieted -her so that she was able to meet the trustee's glance of -spectacled inquiry as she entered the cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Kindliness as well as curiosity inhered in his glance, -for, besides the cash and educational prestige which she -had brought to his cabin, Jimmy had come to like her -for herself. The frost and grizzle of fifty winters thawed -under his smile as he threw a Winnipeg paper across the -table. "Catch! Just kem in. Yes, there's a story -'bout him. Now, don't eat it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Metaphorically, she did, indeed, devour the article, -and while she read the trustee watched with something -of puzzled astonishment the lovely tide that flowed -out from the lace at her neck, and drowned her pale -creams to the roots of her hair. He had ample -opportunity for study as the article was long. Just then -Carter's line, with its promise of competition, focussed -the interest of the entire province, and some enterprising -scribe had risen to the opportunity afforded by a visit -west of the general manager of the trunk line, to -interview him upon the probable action of his road in -proceedings to condemn a crossing of its right of way. -Time, however, had not abated one iota of the manager's -sphinx like quality. While affable, he had declined -to discuss railroad politics, remarking that his company -did not "cross bridges before they were built." Interviewed -in his turn upon the significance of the aforesaid -remark, Carter had ventured the opinion that the trunk-line -people would not oppose the crossing, and thereby -had provoked a flaming editorial upon his artlessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the people behind Mr. Carter imagine that the -greediest monopoly in history will loose its grip on this -province till the law's crowbar pries off its fingers one -by one, they are mightily mistaken," the editor hotly -declared. "Forewarned is forearmed, and we hereby -present them, gratis, with this piece of information—while -they are running their grades in peaceful confidence -that will be most appropriate in the innocent -age when lion and lamb lie down together, the monopoly -is gathering men and means, preparing to crush their -enterprise by force should the crooked enginery of the -law fail its purpose. Why else have five hundred extra -men been distributed among the sections on either side -of the proposed crossing? Why does a gravel-train -stand there permanently across the proposed right of -way? Soon Mr. Carter will receive unmistakable answer -to these questions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's dead right there, that editor man," the trustee -said when, all rosy red, Helen looked up from her -reading. "Old Brass-Bowels was born with a nateral -insight into the nater of a dead cinch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But won't the law support my"—she paused, then -proudly finished—"my husband? Can't he compel a -crossing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The law?" Sniffing, Jimmy indicated the legal -patchwork on the wall with a comprehensive sweep of -his pipe. "The law said as I was to pay them, but did -I? Humph!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But they'll hardly dare to fly in the face of the -province? Public opinion is a great moral force." She -quoted a sentence from the editorial with gusto.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but 'tain't much of a club. Did you ever see -one of my hawgs stan' aside, even when he was full, to -let another have a go at the trough? Not till I hit him -on the snout. Well, they ain't agoin' to cross the -trunk line these two years, an' for my part I don't care -if they never cross."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" Her eyes dilated widely. "Wouldn't a -competing line benefit you—all of the province?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nodding, he regarded her from half-shut eyes. "Oh, -I ain't expecting to walk on gold this side o' the pearly -gates. As for my reasons, they ain't a mile away from -here. I'm not wishing too much success for a man -that deserts his wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Touched and very much flushed as to the face by -his genuine, if crabbed sympathy, the Reasons yet -shook her head and spoke up for the recreant -husband stoutly as she had defended him against herself. -She made, however, small headway against his obduracy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that's the way I see it. By-the-way," he added, -heading off a disposition for further argument, "did -you see the evangelist? Pitched his tent over by -Flynn's. You want to go. Beats a three-ring circus -when old man Cummings hits up to his gait."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jimmy! Jimmy!" His wife looked up from her -ironing; then daunted, perhaps, by his twinkle, she -addressed Helen. "He hadn't orter talk that away, my -dear. If Mr. Cummings does go on the rampage a bit -when he gets het up, at least he's sincere. As for -him—" She turned a severe eye on her husband. "We'll get -him yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I see myself. Her idea of heaven"—he shrugged -at the ironing-board—"is an eternal class-meeting -with everybody giving their experience—love-feast she -calls it. I like something solider. Give me plenty to -eat, a pipe by a warm fire, an' something to read, an' -I'll sign away my harp an' crown." Ignoring his -better-half's remark that he would not lack the fire, he -finished: "She's going. Wouldn't miss a meeting. -Kedn't keep her away with a club. So if you'd alike to -see some fun—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If 'twas jes' out of curiosity I'd ask her to stay at -home," his wife interrupted. "But she's not that kind, -an' I'll be glad to take her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you will?" Helen assented, and so, returning to -the analogy, placed herself directly beneath the leaden -belly of the lowering storm.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="denunciation"><span class="bold large">XXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">DENUNCIATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A molten sun was smouldering in the ashes of -day when, the following evening, Helen with Mrs. Glaves, -drove up to the gospel-tent. It still lacked half -an hour of meeting-time, so, while her companion joined -the early arrivals who were passing time by holding a -service of song inside, Helen remained in the buckboard -and watched the sunset, observed herself by a group of -remittance-men and a scattering of settler youths who -sprawled near by on the grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Enthralled, she scarcely saw them; had eyes only for -the ruby sun that stained the prairies with amber -incandescences, the ribbed glories of the fiery cloud -pillars that seemed to uphold the darkling vault above. As -the orb slid into his blankets of rose and gold, shy stars -peeped down at the violet shadows that crawled slowly -up the slopes and knolls; over all fell the hush of evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was one of the moments when the Riddle of -Infinity, Puzzles of Time, Space, Eternity appear as -concrete though unthinkable realities; weigh down and -oppress the soul with a sense of its insignificance. -Against the black-blue vault the stars loomed as worlds; -she could see beyond, around them. Through vast -voids planets were rushing on their courses; suns with -attendant systems swung on measured arcs obedient -to—what? ... A thin minor, querulous plaint stole out -on the hush:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"Poor crawling Worm of Earth,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>A Child of Sin am I—"</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was an honest attempt at the riddle, but its -incongruity, futile insufficiency caused her to shrug with -sudden annoyance. She wondered if, somewhere in -planetary space, other "pinches of sentient dust" were -equally afflicted with a sense of their central importance -in the scheme of things. The apologetic whine spoiled -the sunset; she impatiently turned to watch the arrivals—the -wagons, buck-boards, horsemen—that were streaming -in on every trail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How are you, Mrs. Carter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Danvers, Molyneux's old pupil. An honest -lad and merry, she always liked him, and now made him -welcome to the seat beside her, and laughed at his fire -of chaff. Indicating Cummings, whose ovine expression -had sustained no diminution since the day he bearded -the general manager, he remarked: "He's great, Mrs. Carter; -puts it all over Henry Irving. And there's the -sky pilot! What a Jovelike port!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was, of course, little wit and less humor in his -chaff, but his intentions were honorable, so, ignoring the -sour looks of the arriving settlers, she gave him smiling -attention up to the moment they entered the tent -together, and so prepared the way for what followed. For -though, going in, she left levity without, her modest and -devout bearing could not mitigate her offence in allying -herself with the English Ishmael. It was aggravated, -moreover, by her remaining with him in close proximity -to the remittance crowd on the back benches. Thereafter -nothing could save her; she remained a target for -sour glances throughout the service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was on the usual pattern—rousing hymns, prayer, -testimony, and exhortation—then when groans and -ejaculations testified to the spiritual temperature, the -evangelist, a stout man of bull-like build, proceeded to -cut off yards of the "undying worm," and to measure -bushels of the "fire that quencheth not" for the portion -of such as refused to view the problems of Infinity -through aught but his own wildly gleaming spectacles. -His discourse, indeed, bristled with those cant terms -which, while entirely devoid of meaning, are still -eminently conducive of religious hysteria, and his efforts -were the more successful because of the absence of the -Probationer, a thoughtful young fellow whose rare -common-sense could be depended upon to prevent religious -emotion from degenerating into epilepsy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lacking his wholesome presence, the evangelist paced -the platform under the yellow lantern-light, stretching -long, black arms, hovering over the people like some -huge, dark bird as he pleaded, threatened, thundered, -launching his fiery periods on a groaning wave of -"amens" and "hallelujahs." As he went on, painting -heaven and hell into his lurid scheme of things, sighs -and exclamations grew in volume, flooding feeling pulsed -through the audience, wild settler youths, who had come -to scoff, exchanged uneasy glances on the back benches, -sure sign of a coming stampede.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the psychological moment, and, skilled in -his trade, the revivalist pounced upon it. Stilling the -groaning chorus with upheld hand, he solemnly invited -all who were not </span><em class="italics">against</em><span> the Lord Jesus to stand, an -old revival trick and one which now, as always, turned. -For, as before said, the plains were not yet infected -with the leprosy of agnosticism, and, Episcopalians to -a man, even the Englishmen were not willing to pose -as the open enemies of God.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once standing and pilloried in the public eye, it was -but a question of minutes until the back benches began -to yield up penitents. One by one the settler youths -were gathered into the mourning bench, until at last -Helen stood alone with the Englishmen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come ye! Come ye to the Lord!" The preacher -pleaded, but, haughty and coldly constrained, the -remittance-men ignored the invitation; and so, for the -space of a thunderous hymn of praise, gnostic civilization -and the fervid frontier faced each other across -the middle benches. From that dramatic setting -anything might come. Moment, feeling, atmosphere, all -pointed to the event that came to pass as the hymn died.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaping upon a bench, and so adding its height to -unusual tallness, a woman pointed a warning hand at -the unbelievers. Thin, family-worn, and naturally -cadaverously yellow, she was now flushed with the fever -of delirium. "In that day," she screeched, "the Tares -shall be separated from the Wheat and cast with the -grass into the oven!" Then, while her finger indicated -man after man, she raised the grewsome hymn:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"'I heard the Sinners Wailing, Wailing, Wailing,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>I heard the Sinners Wailing on that Great Day!'"</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Travelling around the benches, her skinny finger -finally fastened on Helen, and, as the lugubrious refrain -came to an end, she burst forth in tremendous paraphrase: -"Beware ye of the Scarlet Woman! Avoid ye, -for her portals lead down to Death; her feet take hold of -Hell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The silence of paralysis followed. So still it was that -a mosquito's thin whine sounded through the tent, the -tinkle of a cow-bell came in from far pastures, a dog -could be heard barking a long way off. Swinging from -the tent-pole, a circle of lanterns lit dark, flushed faces, -and thus, for the space of a long breath, Helen faced -the virago, the one glowering, malignant, the other pale -with astonishment, mutely indignant. She was not -confused. On the contrary, thought and vision were -surprisingly clear; she noted Mrs. Glaves's shocked look, -the vindictive settler faces, the Englishmen's blank -expressions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We had better go. May I drive home, Mrs. Carter?" Danvers, -the witless, the foolish, rose to the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Low-pitched, his voice yet carried to every ear, as did -her clear reply:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After the service is over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was defiance as well as answer, and as she threw -it in the lowering face of the congregation, her glance -fixed on the evangelist who, till then, had stood, mouth -open, hand arrested midway of a gesture, a bearded, -spectacled effigy of ridiculous surprise. Starting under -her pale scorn, he flushed, looked for a second through -shining, bewildered glasses, then strode forward and -seized the virago's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sister, sister! Judge not that ye be not judged!" Then, -himself again, he swept a pudgy hand over the -benches. "Sit down, all! Brother Cummings will lead -in prayer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It mercifully happens that sudden calamity carries -its own anæsthetic in that it blinds, confuses, destroys -feeling, numbs the faculties that ought to register its -importance. Under Helen's unnatural calmness she -was dimly conscious of a sick excitement, but this was -unrelated with her thought. She saw and sensed as -usual; was aware of curious backward glances, the -sympathy of the Englishmen at her side; heard every -word of Cummings's sputtering prayer, the following -hymn and benediction; only her mind refused commerce -with these things. Divorced from the present, it -juggled the terms of an equation in that day's lesson up -to the moment that the remittance-men came crowding -about Danvers' rig after the meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aside from their looseness and general inefficiency, the -lads were brave enough, and though some of them -had won or lost bets on her reputation, winners were -no more eager than losers to avenge the insult that -had been provoked by her association with themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just say the word, Mrs. Carter," Danvers pleaded, -"and we'll lick the crowd."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And put a head on the preacher," young Poole -added, sinfully licking his chops.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the darkness that enveloped the press of rigs -and wagons rose jeering voices, sneers, laughter, the -conscious cackle of scandal. Several times she heard -her own name. There was provocation and to spare, -but though a word would have started a racial riot, -she desired only solitude, to flutter home like a -wounded bird to its nest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" she answered them. "Take me home! -Only take me home!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arrived there, she flew to her own room leaving -Danvers to enlighten the trustee. Lying face down on -her bed, she heard the rumble of their conversation, -Jimmy's violent reflections upon revivals particular and -general, his wife's whimpering protests when she -returned. His growl extended far into the night, and -when it was finally extinguished by a robust snoring, -the girl was afflicted with a sense of lost companionship; -thereafter she had to suffer it out by herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There would be more pain than profit in describing -her reflections, agonizings. Sufficient to know that a -knife in the breast hurts a woman less than a stab at -her reputation, and her thought was none the sweeter -for the knowledge that she had drawn the blow by -giving way to her pique. Her resolve as expressed next -morning to Jimmy Glaves is of more concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had turned impatiently from Mrs. Glaves's tearful -apologies, but when the old trustee laid a kindly -hand on her shoulder, as she passed him in the garden -on her way to school, she gave him honest eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, you ain't to bother. 'Twas on'y Betsy Rodd, -the old harridan. Nobody minds her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she shook her head in accordance with her -resolution to face truth. "She was expressing what was -in everybody's minds. I know it, and though I didn't -intend it, I'm partly to blame, for their suspicion." Her -mouth drew thin and firm as she finished. "I shall -live it down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Course you will!" he heartily agreed. "That's my -brave girl!" But his face darkened after she had passed -on, and he slowly wagged a grave head as he plied his -hoe in the garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For he knew the difficulty, impossibility of the task -she had marked out for herself. Of Scotch descent, -dogmatic, wedded to convention, intense clannishness -reinforced in the settlers bitter morality, racial hatred, -the condemnation of sin. With them the offence of the -fathers was visited upon the children to the fourth -generation. It was remembered, for instance, against -Donald Ross that his great-grandfather had died a drunkard, -and the fact had limited his choice of a wife; the -daughters of Hector MacCloud took inferior husbands because -their grandmother had been born on the easy side of the -knot. Handing such cold charity around among themselves, -what mercy were they likely to extend to the -suspected stranger within their gates? Jimmy was still -wagging his head when, half an hour later, the Probationer -reined in at the end of the garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hearing of the scandal on the Lone Tree trail, the -young man had turned aside to express his sorrow, and -now listened patiently while the trustee drew invidious -parallels between the religious movement then proceeding -and his own misfit horticulture. "You see them?" Removing -his pipe from between his teeth, he waved it -at some half-dozen straggling apple-shoots. "Hardiest -variety of Siberian crabs. Professor at the gove'nment -experimental station warranted 'em to grow at the north -pole. Remind me of your revival, they do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why? Don't they grow?" The Probationer smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grow? I should swan! four feet every summer, an' -freeze off to the roots every winter—jes' like your -converts. Get all het up at meetings, blossom with grace, -then comes the backsliding, the frost, an' nips the -leafage. Where's the sense of it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now the Probationer had his own doubts. Having -turned a prentice hand at revival work, he was painfully -familiar with its characteristic phenomena—first, -hot enthusiasm, slow cooling, obstinate adherence to -the form after the spirit has fled, finally the reaction -which would leave his people less charitable, not quite -so kindly, a little poorer in the things which make for -the kingdom of Christ on earth. He had tried to be a -real shepherd to his flock—to upraise by precept, -example, counsel, and admonition. Avoiding dogma, he had -brought them together irrespective of cult and creed -on the broad basis of love and a common humanity, -and just when he was beginning to expect fruit from -that liberal sowing, this bitter theologian, the revivalist, -had been loosed upon him. And this was first fruit of -his work!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jimmy's illustration coincided exactly with his own -experience, yet fealty to his Church demanded some -sort of defence. "Isn't an annual growth better than -none?" he asked. "The green shoots certainly improve -the appearance of your garden."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jimmy blew a derisive cloud over the few cabbages, -two sickly cauliflowers, a bed of onions, salvage from -worms and spring frost of half an acre's planting. "But -you don't get results. One sound cabbage is worth an -acre of sick saplings; a cheerful sinner discounts a -hundred puckered saints. I'm scairt as the black knot has -got inter that orchard o' yourn, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid so," the young fellow sadly agreed. -"Well, I must try and prune it out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd advise the axe," Jimmy grimly commented. -"An' begin with Betsy Rodd."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sorrowing, the Probationer drove on to the school, -where a very cold young lady answered his call at the -door. A slant of sunshine struck in under the porch -twining an aureole about her golden head, creating an -auriferous nimbus for her shapely figure. Standing -there, so cold and pale, she might have passed for a -statue of purity, and the Probationer, being young and -still impressionable albeit engaged, wondered that any -should have dared to doubt her. Thawing when he -mentioned Ruth, she froze again as soon as he touched, -apologetically, upon the event of the night before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If religion strips them of common charity, they -would be better without it," she answered his apology, -and turned but a cold ear to his plea for his people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were altogether subject to emotion, incapable -of a reasoned rule of life," he said. "With the fear -of God removed from their hearts, they would drop -to unmentionable levels, to say nothing of the hope -and consolation religion brought to sweeten their hard -lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he made little headway. "I don't doubt they -are not quite so bad as they would like to be. But -there, let us drop the subject. Won't you come in and -examine the children?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From this conversation it will be seen that her -resolve to "live it down" was not exactly founded upon -grounds that would appeal to a professor of ethics; yet -her attitude was very natural, and not so deplorable as -would at first appear. Was she so much to blame? -Hardness breeds hardness, opposition its like. Fire -flies from the impact of rock and iron. Always like -begets like, heredity applies to mental forces. -Moreover, injured pride has stiffened more weak spines and -given better results than the command to turn the -other cheek; the desire to "show people" lies at the -root of many a bravery. Lastly, once rehabilitated -socially, softness comes later to the injured member, -increasing in ratio to the respect of his or her -community. And so it would have been with Helen—with -a different people.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-charivari"><span class="bold large">XXIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CHARIVARI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Straddling a log in his dooryard, the trustee -whistled softly while he whittled and shaped a -pair of birch crooks into the ox-collars that, with -trace-chains, are preferred in the northland to the -old-fashioned bows and yoke. The revival was over. After -passing from house to house like measles, mumps, or -other dark disease, infecting men on trail, by fireside, -at the plough-tail with the prejudice he styled religion, -the evangelist had reported so many head of "saved" to -his superiors, and so had swooped like a plague upon -other settlements, leaving the Probationer to repair, as -best he might, his ravages in this. Now, two weeks -later, symptoms in Silver Creek indicated a quick -recovery; extra meetings had altogether ceased, bi-weekly -prayer-meetings languished, remarks at the plough-tail -showed signs of former vigor; the sweat and labor of -haying would undoubtedly bring complete convalescence -and, with it, danger for Helen. For while the religious -excitement had served her by excluding all else from -the settler mind, tongues would be the sharper, prejudice -the keener for the rest. It was but a lull in the -storm, the hush that follows the first flash and crash of -thunder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was knowledge of this fact that inspired the trustee's -thoughtful whistling. Already he smelled trouble -on the wind, the impression being formed on many -small significances—looks, nods, winks, and whispered -asides at "bees" and "raisings." More important: his -cabin, which, as post-office, had been a social focus, centre -of news and gossip, a place to linger and chat, had of -late been almost deserted. Calling for their mail, his -neighbors departed with the shortest of salutations. -So, having had a gray eye on trouble through all, he -was not surprised when she presently appeared between -Shinn and Hines in the latter's buck-board. Indeed, his -comment while they were still a hundred yards away -signified profound distrust. "Gummed if the coyotes -ain't running in packs this weather." His beetling -brows, moreover, drew a grizzled line across his hawk -nose when the two reined in opposite; he glared -suspiciously while Hines glibly discoursed on crops, weather, -the ox-collars; nor hesitated to interrupt and reach for -trouble's forelock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Crops is fair to middling, nothing wrong with the -hay, the crooks is for Flynn—now, what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines blinked and looked silly, but the check worked -oppositely on Shinn. Of that gaunt, raw-boned, -backwoods type produced by generations of ineffable -hardship and slavish labor, he stood over six feet, and -combined great strength with mean ferocity and -uncontrollable passion. His huge mouth twitched feverishly -as he answered, "Sence you're so pressing—it's the -talk through the settlement that we orter have a new -teacher."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Umph!" Grunt could not convey greater contempt. -"Hain't you got a teacher?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but it's agreed that she ain't quite the sort to -put over innercent children."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time the trustee snorted, "Might infect them -brats o' yourn with her sweet manners, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shinn flushed dully under his yellow skin. "That or -something else. Anyway, every one's agreed that she's -gotter go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's everybody?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Meeting, held at my place." Recovering, Hines -backed up his partner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes? First I heard of it. Was Flynn there? -Thought not; he ain't much of a mixer. Didn't ask me, -did you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hines shuffled uneasily. "'Twas held after a -prayer-meeting—you might ha' been there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Prayer-meeting, eh? Real Christian, wasn't it, to -try and take the bread out of a good girl's mouth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Good?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Hines's sneer the trustee rose, hand gripping hard -on a heavy crook, eyes one gray glare under ragged brows, -temple veins ridged and swollen. "I said 'good.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the frontier a man must usually furnish material -proof of courage, but there are exceptions from whom -imminent fearlessness distils as an exhalation affecting -all who come within its atmosphere. Carter was such -a one; Glaves another. Though neither had found it -necessary to "make good" physically during the settlement's -short history, their ability to do so was never at -question. Behind the reserve of one, crabbed sarcasm -of the other, danger lay so close to the surface that it was -always felt, could never be quite forgotten. Indeed, as -regards Glaves, the feeling took form in the opinion -often delivered when the qualities of men were under -discussion—"If the old man ever gets started, some one -will earn a quick funeral." Now Hines quailed, and -even the truculent Shinn observed silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Glaring on the shrinking Hines, the trustee went on: -"Never forgot how Carter bluffed you out on that hay -business, did you? An' as you wasn't man enough to -get back at him, you 'lowed to take it out of his wife? -Well, you ain't going to. You kin go back an' tell them -that sent you that so long as Flynn an' me sit on the -board she'll teach this school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That," Shinn retorted, "would be till nex' election, -but she won't stay that long. Sence you're so stiff -about it, Glaves, let me tell you that you kain't fly in -the face of this settlement. You may be big wolf, but -there's others in the pack. If she's here at the end of -the month—there'll be something doing." Nodding -evilly, he drove on, leaving the trustee to puzzle over his -meaning as he shaped and polished the crooks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bluffing, I reckon," he concluded, and that, also, -was the opinion of Flynn, to whom he carried his doubts -that evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There'll be no way for thim spalpeens to fire us av -the boord?" Flynn queried. "No? Phwat about an -opposhition school?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Agin the law to build one in this township."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thin 'tis all out av the big mouth av Shinn. Thalk, -an' nothing more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both were confirmed in their opinion when the month -drew to a peaceful, if hot, end. Tricked out in various -green, woods and prairies slumbered or sighed restlessly -under torrid heat that extracted their essential essences, -weighting the heavy air with intense odors of curing -grasses. There was nothing to indicate that the virulent -tide of spleen was ready to burst its banks. Knowing -that another week would bring on haying, with its attendant -wars to provide an outlet for feeling, neither trustee -anticipated the event which occurred at the full of the -moon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though the storm broke around Glaves's cabin, Flynn -received immediate notice. In pleasant weather he and -his wife would sit on their doorstep after the children -were in bed, to enjoy the quiet hour while the peace and -cool charmed away the cares of the day; and this night -was particularly beautiful. Over dewlit plains the moon -emptied a flood of silver and polished the slough beyond -the dooryard till it shone like burnished steel. Rolling -off and away under that tender light, the huge earth -waves seemed to heave, swell, sigh as a lover's bosom -under the sweet eyes of his mistress, while from the -corrals near by issued the heavy breathing of contented -kine. Always music in the ears of a farmer, it stimulated -Flynn, set him planning for the future; but he had hardly -touched on next year's increase before Mrs. Flynn seized -his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phwat's that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At first Flynn thought that Glaves was "dogging" -stray cattle away from his grain-fields, but when the -iron note of beaten pans, gunshots, metallic thundering -were added to the first clash of cow-bells, he sprang up. -"A charivari! At Glaves's! A spite charivari!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my God, Flynn!" his wife exclaimed. "That -poor girl!" She knew what that orgy of sound portended. -A jest at weddings, the charivari was sometimes -used as a sinister weapon to express communal dislike or -punish suspicion of sin. The most terrible memory of -her girlhood was associated with a party of fiercely moral -backwoodsmen that flogged a man at her father's wagon-tail -and dragged a woman, who had offended public -morals, naked and screaming through a field of thistles. -In Silver Creek were men who had participated in that -cruelty, forced to emigrate to escape the law. Small -wonder that she agonized under the thought. "Flynn! -Flynn, man! Hurry, get your horse!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Holding the light for him to saddle, she called after -as he rode away: "Go round be Misther Danvers'! 'Tis -on'y a mile out av your way! Going by here at noon, -himself told me that he was to have a sthag-party the -night! They'll jump at the chance, an' fight none the -worse for a smhell av the whiskey!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A cold, with complications in the shape of rheumatic -pains, sent the trustee early to bed that evening, and -Helen was sewing by the fire with Mrs. Glaves when the -charivari turned loose outside. As, jumping up, they -stood staring at one another, he shouted for them to bolt -the door; and as, after complying, Helen returned to the -fire he came limping out, bent, warped, and twisted by -sciatica, half dressed, but grimly resolute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Danger?" he rasped, swinging round on his wife as -the house trembled under sudden thunder of scurrying -hoofs outside. "Listen!" And when pained bellows -followed dropping shots, he added: "Peppering the cattle. -Scairt? Then go an' stick your fool head under a pillow. -How is it with you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a matter of fact, Helen's face was as white as the -fluffy shawl from which her golden head rose like a yellow -crocus above soft spring snows; but, noting the thin, -scarlet line of her mouth, the trustee nodded his satisfaction. -"You'll do. Swing round that lounge—here, where I -can train a gun on the door. Good!" He eased his -length along it with a groan of relief. "Now hand me -the gun—no, the other." Rehanging his own long -duck-gun upon its wooden pegs, she brought him the famous -double-barrelled Greener which, having disarranged the -lock action in trying to clean it, Danvers had left with -the trustee for repairs. "There, put out the light an' -take a look out at the window."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pulling the curtain aside, she got full benefit of the -brazen clamor while learning something of its genesis, -for, while easily recognizable, the din of beaten pans, -cow-bells, gunshots, and yells formed only a minor -accompaniment to a barbarous metallic roll, louder than -a corps of beaten drums, and a discordant screech that -discounted the torment of a thousand tortured fiddles. -Now she saw two men rapidly vibrating long cross-cut -saws back and forth against the house, while others drew -a rosined plank to and fro across a log, concentrating the -discords of the world into a single excruciating note. -Closing her ears, she took further note of the score of dark -figures that came and went in the moonlight, leaping, -shouting, gesticulating strangely, as though crazed by -the frenzy of noise. Weird, sinister shapes, they moved, -massed, and melted to units again as in some mad -carnival or distorted madman's dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trustee pulled her skirt. "Come away! They -might shoot at the window."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Obeying, she knelt beside him—fortunately with her -back to the pane that, a few minutes later, shivered and -flew in fine rain. "Drunk!" Glaves commented; and -as a piercing cry, clever imitation of a cougar, rang high -over a slight lull, he said, "That's sure Bill MacCloud." He -grimly added—for, besides being dissolute, the man -was a scoffer and leader against religion: "Gosh! but the -saints are keeping queer company. Bill ain't more'n a -mile 'way from his bottle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that one lull the tumult increased in loudness -and volume, and for a long half-hour Helen listened as -some soft maid of Rome may have hearkened to the din -of Goth or ravaging Hun in the sacred streets of the -imperial city. To her, brought up under the shadow of -law, with its material manifestation—a policeman—always -within call, the brutal elemental passion behind that -huge, amorphous voice was very terrible. Almost equally -fearful was the sudden cessation that set the silence -singing in her ears, the voiceless darkness, thick night -of that black room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Touching the trustee, more for the comfort of his -presence than to draw his attention, she whispered, -"What now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then the door rattled under a heavy kick; a -strident voice answered her question: "Open, Glaves, -an' send out that —— baggage" (it was a viler word) -"or we'll burn the house over your ears!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will—" the trustee began, but was interrupted -by a wail from his wife in the bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy, don't let 'em have her. They'll -duck her in the slough—mebbe drown her like they did -Jenny Ross back in Huron."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you shet up!" he roared, but the man outside -had heard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet we will. She needs a little cooling."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's surely Mr. Shinn that's talking so fierce!" -the trustee taunted. "Man, but you're gaining a heap -wolfish, though it did take you some time to work up -to the p'int of speech. Why didn't you take the -shortcut through Bill's bottle?" His tone suddenly altered -from banter to such stern command that they distinctly -heard Shinn shuffle back a step from the door. "Burn -this house? Get, or I'll blow the black heart out of you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A derisive yell rose outside, then silence fell again, a -hush so complete that Helen distinctly heard the tick -of the clock, her own breathing, the chirrup of a hearth -cricket. Pulling the trustee's sleeve, she whispered, -"I've brought </span><em class="italics">such</em><span> trouble upon you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rubbish!" he snapped. "Say that ag'in an' I'll -spank you!" But he gently patted her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute slid by without further speech; a second, -third, fourth, then she whispered, "Surely they must -have gone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before he could reply came a rapid beat of running -feet, a splintering crash, an oblong of moonlight flashed -out of the darkness at the end of the room, and quiet -reigned again. Only the battering ram, a long log, -poked its blunt nose over the doorsill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stand clear there!" the trustee sharply warned. -Then, as a dim, crouched figure appeared between the -jambs, he shouted, "Fair warning!" and fired; but as -the figure fell back and out, a chuckling laugh drifted -through the smoke, Shinn's coarse voice yelled: "His -gun's single barrel! In, afore he kin reload!" and a black, -surging mass trampled over the dummy and filled the -doorway. As aforeseen, the conclusion was justified—the -trustee's long gun was familiar as his face in the -settlement—and the click of Danvers' left trigger was -drowned by a second harsh command—"Fair warning!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The report, thunderous, ear-splitting in the confined -space, certified to Shinn's mistake. His writhing mouth, -Hines's wintry visage, the press of men in the door showed -redly under the flash, then sulphurous darkness wiped out -all. To Helen, its smothering pall seemed to pulse with -thick life, to extend clutching fingers, horrors that were -intensified by Mrs. Glaves's sudden burst of hysterical -screaming. Crouched behind Glaves, she listened in -agony to the swearing, sharp oaths, as men tripped and -stumbled over the furniture and one another. There -was no escape. They were feeling for her all over the -room, and through a sick horror she heard Shinn's -triumphant yell—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A choked gurgle, snarl of rage, as Glaves fastened onto -his throat, explained his mistake. "Hell! has no one -a match?" His strangled voice issued from a dark -whorl, crash of splintering furniture, as they swung and -staggered in that pit of gloom. The struggle could have -but one ending. Healthy, Glaves would have been no -match for Shinn, and, as a match scratched, came the -soft thud of his body as he was thrown with brutal force -against the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Flaring up, the flame revealed Helen, white, trembling, -sick with that paralysis of fear that a mouse must feel -in the claws of a cat. From the bedroom came the -hysterical whooping, terrible in its sameness. Wide-eyed, -she stared, fascinated, at Shinn, but he also was -staring at a body spread-eagled before the door, its -face turned down in a black, viscid, spreading pool. The -match went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" a man cried. "It's Hines!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Helen did not hear that or a cry from outside -warning of approaching hoofs. Throughout the frenzy -of noise, horror of darkness, suspense, the attack, she -had carried herself bravely; but this swift death, -following on all, broke her shaken nerves, deprived her of -consciousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trustee, however, heard and saw the house vomit -its black life, the dark figures streaming under the -moonlight out to the bluff where the horses were tied, -panic-stricken by sudden death and uneasy memories of -outraged law. Leaning in his doorway, bent and bruised, -he saw also Flynn and Danvers thunder by with a -score of remittance-men, a wild cavalcade hard on their -heels. In the Irishman's hand a neck-yoke swung with -ominous rattle of iron rings; Danvers carried a cavalry -sabre he had snatched from his wall; the others brandished -clubs. Looming an instant in the steam of their -sweating beasts, they shot on with a glad hurrah.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yoicks! Tally-ho!" young Poole shrilled as he -passed. "Sic 'em, Flynn!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A Flynn! A Flynn!" Danvers squeaked as Shinn -crumpled under the neck-yoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wild lads, under wilder leadership, they fought—as -Mrs. Flynn had predicted—none the worse for a smell -at the whiskey. Those of the enemy who made a slow -mounting were ridden down, fell under the clubs, or -achieved uncomfortable leaps into briers and scrub, to -be afterwards caught and drubbed, while such as -escaped were run down and brought to bay by twos and -threes. In a running fight over miles of moonlit prairie -the grudges of years were settled; jeers, gibes, many a -cheating received payment in full, with arrears of -interest. Thus Cummings received from Danvers the -"boot" due on the mare that Carter once described as -being "blind, spavined, sweenied, an' old enough to -homestead," payment being slapped down upon the -spot where most pain may be inflicted with least -structural damage. In like manner Poole settled with Peter -Rodd for a cannibalistic sow; Perceval with MacCloud, -arrears </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> due on a quarter-section of scrub; Gray with -Seebach for forty bushels of heated seed wheat. Leaving -them to their rough auditing, the story returns with -Flynn to the cabin after the dropping of Shinn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After relighting the lamp, Glaves had carried his sore -bones back to the lounge, and when Flynn entered he -found the terrible old fellow glowering upon the dead. -His wife's hysteria had slackened to a strained sobbing, -and, answering Flynn's question, he tartly replied: "No, -'tain't Mrs. Carter. Had her fainting-spell an' kem -to without any fuss, like a sensible girl. She's in there -tending to that old fool." Then, beetling again on the -dead, he forecast the verdict of the sheriff's jury. "Ye'll -bear witness, Flynn, that this man kem to his death -through running into a charge of buckshot after my -winder 'd been shot in an' door battered down."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="without-the-pale"><span class="bold large">XXIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WITHOUT THE PALE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I really believe that I </span><em class="italics">ought</em><span> to resign!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, one morning a week later, Helen delivered -herself of certain secret misgivings at breakfast, the -trustee looked up, startled, from his eggs and mush, then -proceeded to fish for motives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scairt? You needn't to be. We've got this settlement -by the short hairs at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His rude metaphor roughly set forth the truth. Without -ties, the bachelors of the charivari party had scattered -west through the territories, while Shinn, MacCloud, -and other married men had gone into such close hiding -that the sheriff had been unable to subpoena one for the -inquest. But though she neither feared nor anticipated -further violence, Helen now knew that she never would -be able to live down the settlers' prejudice; and without -the children's love, parents' confidence, her day of -usefulness was past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Glaves snorted at this altruistic reason. "Love? -Confidence? What's their market value? You kedn't -hope to compete with a dollar note for the first; as for -the second— Danvers hit it off exactly when he stuck -that sign on his stable door—'No more trading here!' Now, -from my p'int of view, it isn't a question of love -or confidence, but one of faith."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith?" she echoed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nodding, he went on. "Me and Flynn backed you -up—stood by you through all, didn't we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed you did!" She grew rosily red under warmth -of feeling. "I shall never—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' now you allow to throw us down? For Shinn -and MacCloud will shorely tell how that they scared you -an' beat us out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was bad argument, poor ethics—a bald statement of -his grim intention of bending the stubborn settlers to his -inflexible purpose. She felt, however, that it would be -still poorer ethics for her to desert and disappoint these, -her champions, defenders. It was one of these peculiar -situations where any course seems wrong, and if -she chose that which seemed most human, she did it -with a mental reservation. She would resign just as -soon as she could persuade him to look at things her way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I'll stay—to please you. But—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No 'buts,'" he interrupted. "Haying begins -Monday, an' by fall it'll all be ol' hist'ry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Monday brought justification of her doubt, -proving that, if cowed, the settlers were by no means -conquered. Only the young Flynns attended school, and -the array of empty benches loomed in her troubled -vision like a huge face, vacant, mulishly obstinate as a -blank wall, vividly eloquent of the invincible determination -that would have none of her. Her heart sank, and -when the week passed without further attendance she -gave up, handed her resignation to Flynn and Glaves in -council at the latter's cabin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both, as might be expected, registered strenuous -objections. "'Tain't your fault if they cut off their nose -to spite their face," Glaves argued. And when she -replied that the children would suffer, he rasped: "What -of it? 'The sins of the fathers shall be visited on the -children to the fourth generation.' Ye have Scripter -for that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But not the sin of the stranger," she gently objected. -"I have myself to blame for the prejudice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now, though neither trustee would admit her confession, -both were afflicted with a sneaking consciousness of -its truth. For not only had she offended by consorting -with that public enemy, the remittance-man, but the -cause of Carter's desertion had escaped from Elinor -Leslie's indiscreet tongue. Every man, woman, and -child in the country-side was informed as to the events -which led up to and followed the Ravells' visit. Their -denials, therefore, were negated by that profuseness of -expression which accentuates the truth it seeks to -conceal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know it," she answered them, and opposed further -argument with that soft feminine obstinacy which -wears out masculine strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what else kin you do?" Glaves cried at last, in -despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to Winnipeg and take a place in an office or -store."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though she affected brightness, she could not altogether -hide the dejection, homesickness that inhered in -the thought. Now that she was to leave it, that rude -cabin, with its log walls, legal patchwork, home-made -furniture, glowed with the glamours of home. Even -Mrs. Glaves's gaunt ugliness became suddenly dear in -the light of an indefinite future among strangers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Detecting her underlying sadness, Flynn exclaimed: -"Phwat? Wurrk in a sthore? Sell pins, naydles, an' -such truck while I've a roof over me head? Ye'd die in -thim lonesome hotels. Ye 'll just come right home wid me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Likely, ain't it?" Glaves broke in, jealous for his -prerogative. "In the first place, if she goes, she ain't -agoing to stop at no hotel, but with my own sister that -keeps a boarding-house on Main Street. An' if she stays, -it'll be right here, with me—eh, old woman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His wife's warm assent brought Helen to tears without, -however, affecting her resolution. For the settlement -would be by the ears, she said, just as long as she -stayed in it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Humph!" Glaves growled. "It'll have itself be the -throat afore long. Yesterday Poole an' Danvers ran -their mowers into Shinn's five-acre swamp, an' if that -don't bring that big Injin a-kiting from the tall timber, -I'm Dutch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was not, however, to be moved, and after an -embarrassed pause Flynn said, hesitatingly: "Thim -cities, now, is mighty ixpinsive. A lone girl without -money—ye'll let me—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Digging a shabby bill-book from the bottom depths of -his overalls, he precipitated a second kindly quarrel. -Glaring at it, Glaves snorted, "When she knows she kin -draw on me for the vally of my last head of stock down -to the dog!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having means for some months, this storm was more -easily laid than that which burst when Flynn offered to -drive her in to Lone Tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' her living with me?" Glaves stormed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis meself that knowed her longest," Flynn argued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Humph!" Glaves sneered—"three days. Thursday -she stopped at your house coming out from Lone Tree. -Sunday I saw her at meeting—went a-purpose an' never -tended sence. No, she goes with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyway, I knowed her longest," Flynn persisted. -"But 'tis herself shall say. Which shall it be, ma'am?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both," she laughed; and so, with a grizzled champion -on either hand, she rattled southward the following day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By one of those strange coincidences of ironical fate, -this, the day of her departure, occurred on the third -anniversary of her first drive out with Carter, and all -things, season, sight, sound, conspired to vividly recall -that memorable occasion. Rank growths in uncut -sloughs bowed under warm winds that freighted a -distant metallic rattle of many mowers; beyond the -settlements the Park Lands stretched to the Assiniboin -with only the chimneys of the burned Cree village to -break their spangled undulations. As before, they came -suddenly upon the valley, rugged, riven, with its bald, -buttressing headlands, timbered ravines; the river, -writhing in giant convolutions along the level bottoms. -As before, they dropped with jolts, jerks, skidding of -wheels to the ford that now tuned its hoarse voice to -a melancholy dirge in harmony with her mood; and -from the door of the log mission Father Francis bowed -his silver head in courtly farewell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After the valley came the "Dry Lands," the tawny -plains, barren of trees, cabin, or farmstead; finally Lone -Tree impinged in that huge monochrome, its grain-sheds -reminding her, as before, of red Noah's arks on a yellow -carpet. To her the hour of departure restored the fresh, -clear vision of the stranger. The town appeared as on -that first occasion—its one scanty street of clapboard -hotels and stores with false fronts fencing the railway -tracks that came spinning out of the western horizon to -flash on over the east; the wise ox-teams rolling along -the street; the squaws with ragged ponies hitched in -big-wheeled Red River carts; the cows pasturing amid -tomato-cans that strewed vacant lots; the loafers, -omni-present riffraff of the small frontier, holding down -nail-kegs and cracker-boxes under store verandas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a trying drive. Every turn of the trail brought -its reminiscences; mud chimneys, the Indian graveyard, -a lone coyote, recalled the beginnings of her love, and -now that she was leaving she vividly realized how she -had grown to this land of white silences, grave winds, -vast, sunwashed spaces. But if she had need of the heavy -veil that she pinned on that morning, that marvellous -feminine restraint enabled her to turn a composed face -to the doctor and Jenny, who came to the station to see -her off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she passed up street, the riffraff exchanged nods -and winks, but Lone Tree furnished still other -champions. The store-keeper, he who had loaded Carter's -buck-board with jams and jellies, came hurrying across -the tracks with good wishes and protestations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shinn, MacCloud, Cummings—the hull gang—go off -my books," he swore to Glaves. "Not another cent's -credit to keep 'em from starving."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They can rot in their beds for me," the doctor added. -"I strike Silver Creek from my practice." And though -the train was even then whistling for the station, Hooper, -the agent, stole time for friendly greetings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If roughly expressed, their sympathy was at least -genuine; it eased the parting so that she was able to lean -out and give them a last smile as the train rolled by the -water-tank with long, easy clickings, carrying her away -beyond their tough pale. Good enough as a farewell, -it was not, however, a success as a smile, and the woe -behind its wanness formed the subject of an indignant -caucus that convened as soon as Jenny left the platform.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't figure out jes' what Carter means," the -storekeeper fretfully exclaimed. "Granted that she throwed -him that onct—the charivari?—that business at the -revival? If it had been my wife, I'd been smelling round -for—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Blood!" the agent interjected; and though he had -intended "trouble," the store-keeper accepted the amendment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the man looking for?" the doctor roared. -"She has beauty, amiability, intelligence, almost every -quality that a man can desire in a wife, yet he goes off -in a pout because she falls short of the angels. He's a -damned fool. He ought to be—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aisy, aisy wid ye." Flynn stemmed the tide of -wrath. "'Tis no throuble at all to condimn whin a -purty girl's at t'other ind of the argymint. She's sweet, -an' I'll break the face av the man as says she isn't good. -But—give the man toime. Let be till we know that he's -heard av the rhuctions. Thin, if he does nothing—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," the doctor interrupted, "he'll hear, all -right—from me, this very night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Me, too," the store-keeper added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' don't forget to give him partickler h—l!" the -agent called after as they strolled away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor did they. Dipping his pen in scorn, the doctor -opened his epistle with a timely question as to the exact -number and kinds of fool that Carter considered himself, -and finished with a spirit that transcended even -Glaves's difficult requirements. Equally thorough in his -beginnings, a rush of business prevented the store-keeper -from making an end that evening; but his default had -its advantages in that he was thus enabled to deliver the -remainder, </span><em class="italics">viva voce</em><span>, to Carter himself, when he stepped -off the train next morning. Served hot, with good -frontier adjectives sizzling among the nouns and articles, his -opinion gained the admiring attention of Hooper, the -agent, who stood ready to offer advice and assistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For his part, Carter listened quietly until the -storekeeper paused for breath. Then he turned to the agent. -"If you'd like five minutes with my character and attainments, -don't be bashful! I've got it coming. After that -please oblige with a little information on this charivari? -I only heard yesterday morning of that revival through -Bender's coming into camp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he listened, his natural sternness deepened to dark -austerity, then fluxed in sad pity as the store-keeper told -of Helen's departure. Murmuring "Poor thing!—poor -little thing!" he asked for her address.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face fell when the store-keeper answered: "You'll -have to go to Glaves for that. The doc' might have it, -but him an' Miss Jenny went north this morning to settle -up her father's affairs." Noting Carter's disappointment, -he kindly added: "You kin drive my sorrels. They're a -third faster than the livery teams. On'y, remember -they're fresh off the grass."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll </span><em class="italics">try</em><span> not to misuse them," Carter answered, brightening, -a remark that plentifully illustrates his impatient -feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agent and store-keeper helped him hitch; and as he -headed the sorrels out on the Silver Creek trail—the trail -that for him, as for Helen, was one long heartache—the -agent drew a deduction from his sombre sternness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard that MacCloud an' Cummings were back. -Je-hosh-a-phat! There'll be something doing if they -cross his track."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Stepping out of his stable, after feeding the noon oats -next day, Glaves "lifted up his eyes," in biblical phrase, -and saw Carter "a long way off." A hot morning at the -hay, and the loss of two sections of his mower-sickle by -impact with a willow snag, did not tend to alleviate his -natural crustiness. As he recognized the tall figure -behind the sorrels, the hoar of his fifty winters seemed to -settle in the lines of his weathered visage; his eye took -the steely sparkle of river ice; his nod, when Carter -reined in opposite, was curt as his answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your wife's address? Yes, I know it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Forewarned by the store-keeper of the old man's -bitterness, Carter was not surprised. "Meaning that you -won't give it to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not till I know as she wants you to have it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tone and manner were superlatively irritating, but the -man had taken blood on his soul in Helen's defence, and -Carter spoke quietly. "Don't you allow that she's a -right to decide for herself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, ain't that exac'ly what I said?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not, but contradiction would merely inflame -his obstinacy. At a loss how to proceed, Carter switched -the heads, one by one, from a patch of tall brown pig-weeds, -using his left hand, for the right was roughly tied -up in his handkerchief. On his part Glaves looked -steadily past him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a beautiful day—sensuous, soft, one of the -golden days when warm winds flirt among rustling -grasses breathing the incense of smiling flowers. Heat -hung in quivering waves along the horizon like an emanation -from the hot, prolific earth over whose bosom birds, -bumblebees, the little beasts of the prairies, came and -went on errands of love and business with songs and -twitterings. And there, in the midst of this joy of life, -the grim old man bent frowning brows on Carter, who -was lost in bitter meditation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was laboring under an unhappy sense of error, for -his contumacy, determined absence, was not altogether -a product of hurt pride. As he himself had dissolved -their relations, it was Helen's privilege to renew them, -and he had waited, yearning for her word. But now -that he was dragged under the harrows of remorse, in an -agony of pity for her, he stood before Glaves as in the -presence of Nemesis, convicted of a huge mistake.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The initiative, after all, had lain with him. If he had -owned to his fault, had apologized for his summary -desertion, she could have been trusted to do the rest. -Now he doubted that he was too late, for it was but -reasonable to suppose that the trustee's determined -opposition had origin with her. He squared his big -shoulders to this burden of his own packing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you forward a letter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frowning, Glaves answered without looking at him, -"You kin leave your address."'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you will forward it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If she wants it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter flushed, but checked a sharp answer. "You -ain't extending too much grace to a sinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any less than you extended her? What d' you -expect of me that saw her name dragged in the mud, -herself insulted—that took a life to save her body from -violence? G—d d— you!" His pent-up feelings -exploded, and for three minutes thereafter hot speech -bubbled like vitriol through his clinched teeth in -scathing denunciation of Carter's remissness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Part of what you say being true, we'll pass the rest," -the latter said, when the trustee had drained his phials of -wrath. "Now—without conceding your right to withhold -her address—will you forward some money?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Glaves stared. He had expected a blow, a violent -quarrel, at least; nay, had lusted for it. But he was too -much of a man himself to mistake a just imperturbability -for fear, while the mention of money checked his anger -by switching his ideas. Jealous for her honor, he looked -his suspicion. "Whose money?" But if accent and -tone declared against the acceptance of favors, he took -the proffered greenbacks after Carter explained that -they covered her share of the cattle he and Morrill had -owned in common—took them, that is, with a proviso.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me see," he mused, counting five of ten bills of -one-hundred-dollar denomination. "You'd forty head -of stock when Morrill died. Five hundred covers her -share. Take these back." And to further argument -he sternly answered, "I don't allow that she's looking -for any presents from you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't allow that she is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sadness of look and tone caused Glaves to glance up -quickly, but he did not relax in his grimness up to the -moment that, having left his address, Carter drove away. -Then a shade of doubt crept into his steel eyes. "If it -had been myself—" he muttered; then as Helen's parting -smile recurred in memory, he added: "No, damn him! -Let him suffer!" But this was not the end. Pausing -in his doorway as he went in to dinner, he saw the -buckboard, small as a fly, crawl over a distant knoll, and by -some association of ideas remembered Carter's hand and -wondered why it was bandaged. And when he learned -from Poole and Danvers, who called round for their mail -that evening, his first small doubt was raised almost to -the dimension of regret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Since the charivari, Glaves's opinion of the -remittance-man—as a fighting animal, at least—had risen above -zero, and he lent first an indulgent, then a rapt ear to the -boys' story. As he himself had prophesied, the piracy -of the five-acre swamp brought Shinn out from his -hiding, but the latter's evil fate arranged matters so that as -he descended upon the remittance buccaneers from one -end of the swamp, Carter appeared on the Lone Tree trail -which cat-a-cornered the other. The result bubbled -forth from the mouth of first one boy, then the other, in -eager interruptions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shade of my granny!" Danvers swore. "You never -saw such a fight!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No preliminaries," Poole declared. "Carter just leaped -from his buggy and went for him like a cat after a mouse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And little good it did him. He might have been a -gopher in the paws of a grizzly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lay like a dead man for a long half-hour—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And looked like a snake that had mixed with a streak -of lightning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Blind, battered, bruised, we carried him home on his -shield—that is, on our hay-rake—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And that poor squalid wife of his looked rather -disgusted when she found that he wasn't dead."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While they thus poured the tale of Shinn's discomfiture -into Glaves's thirsty ears, Carter rattled steadily on -towards Lone Tree. Passing Flynn's, he had been -tempted to put in, but remembered that the Irishman would -be out at the hay, and so ran on and by the one person -who could have furnished an approximation of Helen's -address. For she had merely promised to write Jenny -as soon as she was settled, as he had learned when he met -the doctor, back-trailing alone, early that morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you'll surely find her at one of the hotels!" the -agent called to him, on the platform of the freight-train -that carried him away at midnight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Helen had gone straight to the trustee's sister. -And having wasted two days scanning hotel registers, -wandering the streets, he concluded that perhaps she had -changed her mind and gone straight through to her -friends back East. Charging his friends and financial -backers to keep on with the search, however, he returned -to his labors in that unenviable condition of mind which -romanticist writers describe as "broken-hearted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a city of twenty thousand it ought not to be so very -difficult to locate a young lady whose style and beauty -drew the eyes of the street. But if the search failed, the -cause inhered in other reasons than lack of diligence—in -a reason that largely accounted for Glaves's reluctance -to give her address. Sick at heart, hopeless for the -future, she had sunk her surname with the bitter past; -resumed her maiden name while keeping the married -title. Even with Glaves's sister, a big, good-natured -woman, she passed as a widow.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-sunken-grade"><span class="bold large">XXV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SUNKEN GRADE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The "Ragged Lands!" Seamed, rugged, broken, -gloomy with dark spruce, sterile as a barren woman, -they cumber the earth from Lake Nipissing a thousand -miles westward to the edge of the prairies, and in all -their weary length no stretch of meadow-land occurs. -Pock-marked with sloughs, muskegs, black morasses, -peppered with sand-hills that rise suddenly like eruptive -boils in the sparse beard of its dwarf-growths, it is a -wicked country, and was held accursed by trappers and -Jesuit fathers who, of old, </span><em class="italics">portaged</em><span> or paddled upon its -borders. Yet in construction days men poured into its -dark environs; one may still see Carter's camps, moss-grown, -roofless, rotting by the right of way, for his line -split a fifty-mile breadth from the western verge of that -mighty forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the day after Carter's return from Winnipeg the -westering sun gilded a long scar, brown with the sere of -felled trees, that shore thirty miles of forest. Ten more -miles and this, his right of way, would debouch on the -Park Lands, a day's drive southward from Silver Creek; -at its other end fifty miles of prairie grading would carry -it down to the American border. Northerly, the cut was -masked in rolling smoke of burning brush; but where, -farther south, the spruce mantle had been torn from the -bosom of mother earth, it gaped yellow as a gangrened -wound. Over this earth-sore men and teams swarmed -with the buzz and movement of flies, coming and going -about a steam-digger that bit hungry mouthfuls from the -bowels of a sand-hill and spat them, with hoarse coughing, -upon a train of flat-cars. Beyond them a pile-driver -sputtered nervously upon a lean trestle; and still farther -south a track gang laid and spiked rails with furious -energy, adding their quota of noise to the roar that -combined with heat and dust to produce a miniature inferno.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dipping still lower, the sun poked a golden finger -down a thin survey-line that slit the forest at the head -of the right of way, and touched into flame the yellow -head of a young man who sat on a log near Carter. -There slim poplar-brake enclosed a mossy dell, into -which the frenzy of work and noise came faintly as the -hum of a passing bee. It was, indeed, so cool and -pleasant that the surveyor shrugged unwillingly when the -advancing shadows emphasized Carter's remark that it -was "time to be moving."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a demon of unrest!" he laughed. "Can't keep -still for five minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His mock disgust drew Carter's smile. "That's all -very well—for you. When your transit is cased, you're -done. I have a few hundred men to look after."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, confound them!" the other said. "I'll never -make a philosopher of you." And as, shouldering his -transit, he followed, he commented humorously on -Carter's tiresome energy, affirming that he was reminded -of a steam-engine that had slipped its governors. -"Couldn't be more grovellingly industrious if you were -qualifying for a headline on a child's copy-book. Early -to bed, early to rise, makes your boss healthy, wealthy, -and wise," he misquoted. And as, a few minutes later, -they came out upon wood-choppers who were driving -the right of way into the forest, he grimaced, "More -misguided zeal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For all his sarcasm, his eyes betrayed his appreciation, -and as, pausing, they looked on, his face lit up with -professional pride. Following the choppers, sawyers were -cutting sizable timber into logs, piling small trees with -the brush; behind them a stumping outfit practised -rough dentistry upon the road-bed. All were putting -in the last "licks" of a good day's work; the air whistled -of falling trees, hummed to the ringing saws; the woods -echoed laughter, shouts, cheery curses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good boys," Carter murmured. "Regular whales. -Jest eat it up, don't they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peculiar idiosyncrasy." The surveyor resumed his -chaffing. "They ought to have eased up while you were -away. Can't account for it, unless—yes, it's beans! -Beans, sir! You feed them beans and they work or—die. -Query: What effect would a bean diet have on a -philosopher? Ugh! I must avoid them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No"—Carter indicated a figure, gigantic in the loom -of the smoke, "it's not beans; it's Bender. Without -him we'd have plenty converts to your theory."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now tired nature pities them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In their coincidence, the last red ray might have -signalled Bender's shrill whistle, or </span><em class="italics">vice versa</em><span>. Anyway, -sudden silence fell like a mantle over the clearing. -While choppers and sawyers cached tools under brush -away from rusting dews, teamsters dropped bows and -yokes, and all followed the patient ox-teams down the -right of way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Joking aside," the surveyor said, as they fell in -behind, "what has life for these fellows? Ill-fed, worse -clothed, only an occasional spree breaks the monotony -of grinding toil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's nod was non-committal. "They work hard—yes, -but then work is only terrible to the young and -shiftless; your grown man loves it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If congenial."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Generally is. You see, there's always something that -a fellow thinks he can do a bit better than any one -else—Bill, there, planes his stumps; Ole, that big Swede, is -chain lightning on a cant-hook; Michigan Red rides a -log down a rapid like a ballet-dancer, and has Jehu beat -out on the reins; Big Hans lifts more'n any other man -in camp. Summing it, from whip-cracking to stable-cleaning -every job has its professor, who gets a heap of -fun out of proving his title. Looking a bit closer, these -chaps get more sunshine, fresh air, and sleep than your -city workers, and if the grub is rough they ain't bothered -none with indigestion. Hans finds a flavor in his beans -that your big financial gun doesn't get out of his -canvas-back. As for amusement, the regular lumber-jack does -blow a year's salary on a week's bust, as you say; but -most of these are farmers, some of 'em neighbors of mine. -If they're rushed in summer they have time to burn in -winter, and what of socials, dances, picnics, they strike a -fair balance with pleasure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what is ahead of them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter shrugged. "Death, of course; in the mean -time, hard work, harder living, a family, and a mortgage -to keep 'em from oversleep. But they'll breathe clean -and live clean, work in the sun and outlive two generations -of city people. Barring accidents, they'll average -fourscore years, and so, when the last word is said, I -don't know but that happiness lies down instead of up -the ladder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The surveyor curiously studied his thoughtful face. -"You are climbing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Carter was equal to the contradiction. "We was -talking of averages—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Were</em><span>," the other interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grimacing, Carter repeated: "</span><em class="italics">Were</em><span> talking of averages. -The exception gets his fun climbing, and don't find out -how much of a fool he is till he looks down from the -top."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Doesn't</em><span>," the other put in, and Carter resaid the word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The corrections sprang from a compact that was now -as old as their acquaintance. A graduate in engineering, -the young fellow was widely read and cultured far beyond -the needs of his profession, and as they talked, smoking, -in their office-tent of evenings, his allusions to and -illustrations from the realms of science, literature, art had -given Carter glimpses of Helen's world, a universe in -which touch, taste, smell, sight, and other things gave -place to feeling, memory, perception. And so he had -been stimulated to conscious attempts at improvement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel like a two-year-old!" he had exclaimed one -evening early in their acquaintance. "I 'd like to know -more of that. D' you suppose I could get that book in -town? An' say, if you catch me straddling the traces—manners, -speech, an' so forth—I wish you'd lam me one. -Of course I'm pretty set, but if I could just tone down a -bit on a few of the big things, the little ones might slip -by unnoticed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the nature of things a construction-camp is bound -to suffer a chronic drouth of news, and in default of other -subjects Carter's marital troubles had received exhaustive -and analytical treatment at the hands of the Silver -Creek men and others. Filtering through many strata, -enough of the gossip had reached the surveyor to inform -him of the motive under this rough appeal, and he readily -consented. So, in their talks thereafter, he had trimmed -out the wilder growths of Carter's speech, giving rule and -reason, for, as he laughingly assured him, his big pupil -had an uncanny appetite for underlying law.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now 'tain't reasonable to suppose that you have to -learn all the individual cases," he would say, when the -surveyor tripped him on some expression; "what's the -law of it?" And he would offer humorous opinions on the -eccentricities of the tongue. "The darn language seems -to have grown from wild seed, an' though Lindley -Murray—ain't that his name?—lopped a bit here an' pruned -a bit there, he couldn't straighten the knarls and twists -in the trunks. An' I don't know but that it's as well -that way Leave them grammarians alone, an' they'd -clip an' trim the language till it was tame as the cypress -hedges that my old aunt uster shape into crowing roosters, -gillypots, an' pilaster pillars at home back East." In -saying which he touched a profound etymological truth -that is altogether ignored by the scientific inventors of -universal languages.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One who had not seen him for some months—Helen, -for instance—could not have failed, this evening, to -notice how his faithful delving in that wild orchard had -begun to bring forth fruit in his speech. Evincing fewer -"aint's," it had more "ings," and even attained, on -occasion, to correct usage in "number" of verbs. Equally -forcible, as full of curt figures, its epigrammatic quality -had gained rather than lost by better expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The silence which had fallen between them endured -till they came in sight of the camp, a string of tents and -log-cabins under the eaves of the forest. Then the -surveyor pointed out a girl who was watching the tired -stream from the door of the nearest tent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, there's Dorothy! She threatened to make the -chief bring her down, but I didn't think she'd make it. -Come along and I'll introduce you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As, however, he mended his pace, Carter fell behind, -and the sadness which had become habitual to his face -deepened. He had heard the young fellow speak of this -girl, his </span><em class="italics">fiancée</em><span>; and though in color and appearance she -was the opposite of Helen, the swish of her skirts as she -came to meet them, suggestion of perfume, the hundred -elusive delicacies that make up a well-bred girl's -personality, recalled his wife and oppressed him with a -vivid sense of loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice, rich and low in its tones as Helen's, strengthened -the impression. "Dad said 'No,'" she laughed, -after the introduction. "But—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilful woman will have her way," a voice declared -from the interior of the tent; then the chief engineer, a -hale man of fifty, appeared in the doorway. "Mosquitoes, -alkali water, nothing would scare her." He was -going on with inquiries of the health of a bridge that had -developed rheumatic tendencies in its feet, when she -laughingly interrupted:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, dad, no business till after supper. I have -already scraped acquaintance with the cook, and he says -we are to come at once. So run along, little boys, and -get ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wash our dirty faces, to put it plainly," the surveyor -echoed her happy laugh. "Be it known unto you, fair -lady, that ablutions are held to be effeminate, -unnecessary, if not immoral, in construction work. However, -in view of your hypersensitiveness, we will do violence -to our inclinations. Come on, Carter—we for the tub."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But from a dozen yards she called him back. "This -is the man you wrote me of? I knew him at once. -What a splendid fellow!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gorgeous!" he returned her whisper. "His wife -must be a queer sort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not necessarily." She added, with thoughtful -intuition: "The possibilities are so many. Your friend is -handsome and has a good face, but we girls are more -complex than our mothers. While they were satisfied -with good temper and good provision, we demand -sympathy of taste and habit; that we touch without friction -at a hundred points of contact. Tall as Mr. Carter is, -he may fall short of such a standard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bending, her lover gazed admiringly into her earnest -eyes. "Such a little wisehead! And did I pass in this -difficult examination?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's back was turned, the cook-house door had -just closed on the last teamster, her father had gone back -to his calculations, so her answer was sweet as satisfactory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, half an hour later, the four entered the cook-house, -two cookees were laying the table under one eagle -eye of the cook, the other being on a roast that he was -liberally basting. "Hain't you got no nose?" he -answered Carter's question; but he smiled as, sniffing its -rich odor, Dorothy said: "It's venison! And I'm so -hungry!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure!" he corroborated. "Cree hunter brought in a -quarter of moose this afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pleased with her discernment, he seated her at the -head of a table which he himself had scoured with sand -to a snowy whiteness while the cookees were grinding a -summer's tarnish from iron knives and spoons. Her tin -plate reflected a smile that he would willingly have paid -for in turkey and truffles, but lacking these, he served -baked potatoes with the venison, hot biscuit, cake a -hand's-breadth thick, and with a flourish set the -crowning delicacy of camp life, a can of condensed cream, -beside her tin coffee-cup. Then he packed the cookees -outside to peel the morrow's potatoes that her appetite -might not suffer from their admiring glances, an act -which they classified as tyranny and ascribed to evil -motives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's a right smart gal," he added, after imparting a -few privacies anent their birth and breeding from the -door-step. "None a' your picking sort. Knows good -cooking when she sees it, she does." Then he left them -to digest a last piece of information that the evolution -of their ancestors had been arrested in a low and bestial -stage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That supper figured as an epoch in Carter's life, -because it marked a definite conscious change in his feeling -towards his wife. With all men thought is more or less -chaotic. Filtering slowly from feeling under pressure of -experience, it remains fluid, turgid, until some specific -act—it may be of a very ordinary nature—clears and -precipitates it into the moulds of fixed opinion. So, though -material of a sounder, more reasonable judgment of -Helen had been gathering in his mind these months, -injured pride had held it in abeyance—in suspension, as -it were—until now that recent disappointment had left -him peculiarly susceptible to impression, a resolvent was -added; that occurred which precipitated his thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It took form in Michigan Red, who entered with -another teamster and sat down at the opposite table. -The task that delayed them had sharpened appetite, and -their attack on the food the cook set before them was -positively wolfish. Using fingers as much or more than -forks, they shovelled greasy beans into their mouths with -knives, as stokers feed a furnace; and as they bolted -masses of pork, washed whole biscuits down with gulps -of coffee, Carter's glance wandered between them and -the delicate girl at his side. Here, indeed, was one of -the "points of contact" of her intuitive wisdom. Once -before he had seen, realized it. But whereas he had -thrust the thought away the night that he watched -Michigan Red eat in the lumber-camp, he now gave it -free admittance, mentally writhed as he realized how this -and other gaucheries must have ground on Helen's sensitive -mental surfaces. Fascinated by their gluttony, he -watched until dulled eyes and heavy, stertorous breathing -signalled repletion and the close of their meal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On her part, Dorothy was quietly observing him. -Given such knowledge as the Silver Creek teamsters had -sown through the camp, it would have been easy for her -to guess the rest—if his conduct had borne out her -surmise. But he had learned so much and so quickly -under the stings of injured pride that observation failed -to reveal any wide departures from the conventional. -She had to give it up—for the present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a strange man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her whisper dissipated his painful reflections, and, -looking up, he saw that, after lighting his pipe with a coal -from the stove, Michigan Red was surveying them with -cool effrontery through the tobacco smoke. His fiery -beard split in a sneer as Carter asked if he had finished -supper. But he did not take the hint nor move when -ordered to call Bender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Mister</em><span> Bender"—he spat at the title—"is down at -the grading-camp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said for you to call him." Carter's tone, in its very -gentleness, caused the girl to look quickly so she caught -his queer expression. Compounded of curiosity, -interest, expectation, his glance seemed to flicker above, -below, around the red teamster, to enfold, wrap him -with its subtle questioning. Impressed more than she -could have been by threat or command, she waited—she -knew not for what—oppressed by the loom of imminent -danger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not in the teamster's book to disobey—just -then. Lingering to pick another coal, he sauntered down -the room under flow of that curious, flickering glance, -and closed the door behind him with a bang. Sharp as -the crack of a gun, Dorothy half expected to see smoke -curling up to the massive roof-logs. But though her -father and lover looked their surprise, Carter resumed -his eating, and there was no comment until he excused -himself a few minutes later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tugging his gray beard, the chief engineer then -turned to the surveyor. "Why doesn't he fire that -fellow?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shrugging, the young fellow passed the question up to -the cook. "You've known them longest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus tapped, the cook turned on a flow of information, -appending his own theory of Carter's patience to a short -and unflattering history of Michigan Red. "You see, -Red thought he was the better man from the beginning, -an' it was just up to the boss to give him fair chance to -prove it. As for him, he likes the excitement. You've -seen a cat play with a mouse? Well—an' when the cat -does jump—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye mouse," the surveyor finished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cook's significant nod filled Dorothy with -astonishment. From the social heights upon which the -accident of birth had placed her, she had looked down upon -the laboring-classes, deeming them rude, simple, -unsophisticated. Yet here she found complex moods, a -vendetta conducted with Machiavellian subtlety, a drastic -code that compelled a man to cherish his enemy till he -had had opportunity to strike.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The knowledge helped her to a conclusion which she -stated as they walked back to her father's tent. "Such -pride! I understand now why he left </span><em class="italics">her</em><span>. Just fancy -his keeping on that man?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Damned nonsense, I call it," her father growled. -"That fellow will make trouble for him yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The prediction amounted to prophecy in view of a -conversation then proceeding in the bunk-house. As -Michigan's table-mate had fully reported the scene at -supper, the teamsters were ready with a fire of chaff -when he stumbled over the dark threshold after delivering -Carter's message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Been dinin' in fash'n'ble sassiety, Red?" a man questioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nope!" another laughed. "Voylent colors ain't -considered tasty any more, so the boss fired him out 'cause -his hair turned the chief's gal sick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hoarse chuckling accompanied the teamster's answering -profanity, but when, after roundly cursing themselves, -Carter, the surveyor, chief engineer, he began -on Dorothy, laughter ceased and Big Hans called a -stop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right." A voice seconded Hans's objection. -"We ain't stuck on the boss any more'n you are, Red; -but this gal isn't no kin of his'n. Leave her alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure!" the first man chimed in. "An' if he's feeling -his oats jes' now, he'll be hit the harder when we spring -our deadfall. Did you sound the graders to-day? Will -they—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shet up!" Michigan hissed. "That big mouth o' -yourn spits clean across the camp to the office." And -thereafter the conversation continued in sinister whispers -that soon merged in heavy snoring. Silence and -darkness wrapped the camp.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Awaking while it was still dark, the camp rubbed -sleepy eyes and looked out, shivering, on smouldering -smudges. Outside, the air whined of mosquitoes. At -the long hay-racks horses snorted and pawed frantically -under the winged torture; patient oxen uttered mained -lowings. Growling and grumbling, the camp distributed -itself—teamsters to feed and rebuild smudges, choppers -and sawyers to the grindstone and filing-benches. It -was a cold, dank world. Pessimism prevailed to the -extent that a man needed to walk straitly, minding his -own business, if he would avoid quarrel. But optimism -came with dawn—teamsters hissed cheerfully over their -currying, saw-filers and grinders indulged in snatches of -song—reaching a climax with the breakfast-call. When, -half an hour later, Dorothy appeared in the cook-house -doorway, the camp had spilled its freight of men and -teams into the forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Warned by the shadow, the cook looked up and saw -her in Stetson hat, short skirt, high-laced shoes, a sunlit -vision with the freshness of the morning upon its cheeks. -"God bless you! Come right in," he exclaimed. "Your -daddy an' Mr. Hart hev' gone down line. Devil's -Muskeg got hungry las' night an' swallered ten thousand -yards of gradin'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As yet she knew nothing of those treacherous sinks -that gulp grades, trestles, and the reputations of their -builders as a frog swallows flies, and he went on, -answering her puzzled look: "Morass, you know, swamp with -quicksand foundation that goes clean down to China. -Nope, 'tain't Mr. Carter's loss. He ain't such a fool as -to go an' load a muskeg down with clay and rock. An -Easterner had it on a sub-contract, an' though Mr. Carter -warned him, he reckoned he could make it bear a grade -on brush hurdles. Crowed like a Shanghai rooster -because it carried trains for a week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know," he commented upon her pity for -the luckless contractor. "You kain't do nothin' with -them Easterners. He was warned. Besides," he -vengefully added, "he shedn't ha' come crowing over us. -More coffee, miss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaving the cook-house, a shadow fell between her and -the sun, and Carter gave her good-morning. "Breaks -the poor devil," he supplemented the cook's information, -"and bothers us. Cuts off our communications. We -shall have to move the outfits back to prairie grading -till they are re-established. I'm going down there—now, -if you'd like a hand-car ride?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Would she? In five minutes she was speeding along -under urge of ten strong arms, over high trestles which -gave her sudden livid gleams of water far below, through -yellow cuts, across hollow-sounding bridges, always -between serried ranks of sombre spruce. Sometimes the -car rolled in between long lines of men who were -tamping gravel under the ties. Rough fellows at the best, -they had herded for months in straw and dirt, seeing -nothing daintier than their unlovely selves, and as they -were not the kind that mortifies the flesh, the girl was -much embarrassed by the fire of eyes. Apart from that, -she hugely enjoyed the ride. With feet almost touching -the road-bed, she got all there was of the motion, besides -most of the wind that blew her hair into a dark cloud -and set wild roses blooming in her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She gained, too, a new view-point of Carter, who -chatted gayly, pointing, explaining, as though they were -merely out for pleasure and another had not been just -added to the heavy cares that burdened his broad -shoulders. She learned more of the life, its hardship, -comedy, tragedy, in half an hour's conversation, than she -could have obtained for herself in a year's experience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These different elements sometimes mixed—as when -he indicated a blackened excavation. "See that? A -man was sitting on the stump that was blasted out there. -Reckon he got sort of tired of the world," he replied to -her horrified question, "and wanted a good start for the -next." Then, easily philosophical, quietly discursive, he -wandered along, touching the suicide's motives. There -had been different theories—drink, religion, a girl—but -he himself inclined to aggravated unsociability. The -sombre forest, with its immensity of sad, environing space, -had translated mere moroseness into confirmed hypochondria. -He had so bored the stumping outfit, to which -he belonged, with pessimistic remarks on things in -general that, in self-defence, they threw something at him -whenever he opened his mouth; and so, bottled up, his -gloom accumulated until, in an unusually dismal -moment, he placed a full box of dynamite under a stump -and sat down to await results.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't some one pull him off?" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His answer was pregnant. "Short fuse. Anyway, the -boys didn't feel any call to mix in his -experiments—especially as he swore a blue streak at them till the -stump lifted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Horrible!" she breathed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just what they said." He solemnly misunderstood -her. "They never heard such language. 'Twas dreadfully -out of place at a funeral."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh—I didn't mean that!" Then, considering his -serious gravity, "Was—was there—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty clean." He relieved her of the remainder of -the question. "Mostly translated."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Incredulous, she glanced from him to his men and -received grisly confirmation, for one thrust out a grimy -finger to show a horseshoe ring. "I picked it up on the -track, miss, forty rod from the—obseq'ses. Didn't allow -he'd want it again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shuddering, she turned back to Carter, but before she -could make further comment the car rolled from a cut -out on the edge of the Devil's Muskeg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She thought him cold-blooded until, that evening, she -learned from her friend, the cook, that he had been -caught on the edge of the blast as he rushed to save the -man and had been thrown a hundred feet. A little -disappointed by his apparent callousness, she joined her -father and lover, who, with the contractor, stood looking -out over the muskeg. Sterile, flat, white with alkali -save where black slime oozed from the sunken grade, it -stretched a long mile on either side of the right of way. -Around its edges skeleton trees thrust blanched limbs -upward through the mud, and beyond this charnel -forest loomed the omnipresent spruce. In spring-time -its quaking depths would have opened under a fox's -light padding, but the summer's sun had dried the -surface until it carried a team—which fact had lured the -contractor to his financial doom. A fat, gross man, he -stood mopping his brow and wildly gesticulating towards -the half-mile of rails that, with their ties, lay like the -backbone of some primeval lizard along the mud, calling -heaven and the chief engineer to witness that this -calamity was beyond the prevision of man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Jedgment of God,' it's termed in government -contrac's," he exclaimed to the chief, who, however, -shrugged at such blackening of Providence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Mr. Buckle," he answered, as Carter came up, -"the judgment was delivered against you, not us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes!" the man grovellingly assented. "I know—mine's -the loss. But you gentlemen orter give me a -chance to make it up building round this cursed mud-hole?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Round what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned scowlingly upon Carter. "This mud-hole, -I said." With a greasy sneer, he added: "But mebbe -you kin build across it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" he screamed his angry surprise. "Why, -hell! Wasn't it you that tol' me it wouldn't carry a -grade?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said it wouldn't carry yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His quiet assurance gave the contractor pause, while -engineer and surveyor looked their surprise. "Going -to drive piles down to China?" The contractor grew -hysterically sarcastic. "You'll need a permit from Li -Hung Chang. What do you know about grades, -anyway? I was building this railroad while you was -wearing long clothes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Likely." Carter's easy drawl set the others a-grin and -caused Dorothy to hide her smile in her handkerchief. -"But you ain't out of yours yet. A yearling baby -wouldn't try to stack rock on top of mud. But that -isn't the question. D' you allow to finish the contract?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think I'm a fool?" the man rasped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tain't always polite to state one's thoughts. -But—do you?" And when the other tendered a surly -negative, he turned to the engineer. "You hear, sir? And -now I file my bid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chief, however, looked his doubt. As yet -engineering science offered no solution for the muskeg -problem, and this was not the first grade he had seen -sacrificed to a theory. "Are you serious?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As a Methodist sermon," Carter answered his grave -question. Then, drawing him aside, he pulled a paper -from his pocket—an estimate for the work. It was dated -two weeks back, prevision that caused the chief to -grimly remark: "Pretty much like measuring a living -man for his coffin, wasn't it? But look here, Carter! -I'd hate to see you go broke on this hole. I doubt—and -your figure is far too low. What's your plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to make a sawdust fill with waste from -the Portage Mills."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whistling, the chief looked his admiration, then grinned, -the idea was so ludicrous in its simplicity. For, all -said, the problem resolved itself into terms of specific -gravity—iron sinks and wood floats in water; and the -muskeg which swallowed clay would easily carry a -sawdust bank. Moreover, the idea was thoroughly -practicable. Situated five miles from Winnipeg, the Portage -Mills were the largest in the province and their owners -would willingly part with the refuse that cumbered their -yards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've got it!" he cried, slapping his thigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's not all. If old Brass Bowels—" Noticing -that the contractor was looking their way, he finished in -a whisper, the significance of which caused the chief's -grizzled brows to rise till lost in the roots of his hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll break camp—?" he questioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To-morrow. Build a spur into the mills, then start -prairie grading at the American line and run north. -Ought to make a junction about the time the sink is -filled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And this he did. The few miles of spur-track being -quickly built, a yellow tide of sawdust was soon flowing -out to the Devil's Muskeg, where Bender's wood gang -directed its flow. At first there was great argument -about this new material, some holding that one might -as well try to build a road-bed with feathers. But it -proved itself. Tamping hard as clay, it had greater -resilience, and soon the twisted track rose like a mained -serpent from the slimy clutch of the devil. Yes, miles -of flat-cars, boarded up till they loomed big as houses, -moved between mill and slough through that summer, -and no one dreamed of their slow procession having -other significance up to the moment that Helen heard -newsboys crying a special in the hot streets—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Monopoly refuses new line a crossing. Section gangs -tear up Carter's diamond."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="winnipeg"><span class="bold large">XXVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WINNIPEG</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>By that time Helen had shaken down to a life that -was new as strange—though not without travail; -shaking is always uncomfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coming in to the city, a natural nervousness—that -indefinite apprehension which assails the stoutest under -the frown of new adventures—had been accentuated by -heart-sickness from her late experiences, and was -justified by some to come. She viewed its distant spires -very much as an outlaw might contemplate far-off -hostile towers. Entering from the west, as she did, one -sees taller buildings poke, one by one, from under the -flat horizon. For the city sits by the Red River—smoothest, -most treacherous of streams—in the midst of -vast alluvial plains, its back to the "Ragged Lands," -facing the setting sun. North, south, east, and west of -it they stretch, these great flat plains. Vividly emerald -in spring-time, June shoots their velvet with chameleon -florescences that glow and blaze with the seasons, fix in -universal gold, then fade to purest white. Dark, dirty, -the city stands out on the soft snow-curtain like a sable -blot on an ermine mantle. Withal it is a clean city, for -if the black muck of its unpaved streets cakes laboring -wagons and Red River carts to the hubs after spring -thaws, the dirt is all underfoot. No manufactures foul -the winds that sweep in from boreal seas with the -garnered essences of an empire of flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Purely agricultural, then, in its functions, the bulk of -its burgesses were, as might be expected, store-keepers, -implement men, bankers, lawyers, land agents, all who -serve or prey upon the farmer; for there, also, lurked -the usurers, the twenty-per-cent. Shylocks, fat spiders -whose strangling webs enmeshed every township from -the Rockies to the Red. Spring, fall, or winter, grist -failed not in their dark mills, which ground finer and -faster than those of the gods. Scattering their evil seed on -the dark days, it was their habit to reap in the sunshine, -competing for the last straw with their fellows, the -business men, in their single season of profit—Harvest. -For in summer the city drowsed amid green wheat seas -that curved with the degrees over the western world; it -slept, nodding, till the wheat, its life-blood, came in huge -arterial gushes to gorge its deflated veins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus Helen found it—asleep under the midsummer -sun. Walking to her destination, she met few people; -after the hotel 'buses rattled by, the streets were -deserted save for an occasional buck-board or slow ox-team -chewing the peaceful cud at the wooden sidewalk. When, -later, she walked those hot streets on that most -wearisome of occupations, the search for an occupation, she -became familiar with the city's more intimate -topography—the huge concrete foundations, vacant, gaping as -though at the folly which planned them and their -superstructures, the aërial castles that blew up with the boom; -the occasional brick blocks that raised hot red heads -proudly above surrounding buildings, the river, with its -treacherous peace; old Fort Garry, which she repeopled -with governors, commissioners, factors, and trappers of -the Hudson Bay Company.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also she grew sensitive to its varied life, easily -distinguishing between emigrants, who were injected by daily -spurts into the streets, the city's veins, from the -old-timers—remittance-men, in yellow cords and putties; -trappers from Keewatin, Athabasca, the Great Slave -Lake, in fringed moose-skins; plethoric English farmers, -or gaunt Canadian settlers from the rich valley -round-about; Indians of many tribes—Cree, Sioux, Ojibway; -the heterogeneous mixture that yet lacked a drop of -the Yankee or continental blood which would flow, ten -years later, in a broad river over the American border. -But this was after she had fallen into her place in the -household of Glaves's big sister among a scattering of -teachers, up for the Normal course, a brace of lawyers, -three store-keepers, and a Scotch surgeon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just what or where that place was would be hard to -say, seeing that it varied with the view-point of each -lodger, nor remained the same in the opinion of any -specific one. Thus did she shine, for one whole week, -the particular star in the heaven of an English teacher, -a mercurial lad of twenty; then having rejected his heart -with a pecuniary attachment of thirty-five dollars per -mensem, she fell like a shooting-star and became a mere -receptacle for his succeeding passions, which averaged -three a month. His fellow-teachers swung on an -opposite arc. Canadians, and mostly recruited from the -country, the soil still clung to their heavy boots. The -profession, its aims and objects, formed their staple of -conversation. Deeply imbued with the sense of the -central importance of pedagogy in the scheme of things, -they wore an air of owlish wisdom that was incompatible -with the contemplation of such sublunary things as -girls. Having wives, it was not to be expected that the -store-keepers could notice a young person whose attractions -so far exceeded her known acquaintance, and -though the surgeon, a young man prodigiously bony as -to the leg and neck, really worshipped her from behind -the far folds of his breakfast newspaper, thought -transference still lay in the womb of future humbuggery and -she catalogued him as injuriously cold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From this conglomerate of humanity she gained one -friend, the young wife of a lawyer who had lately come -West. Prettily dark as Helen was delicately fair, each -made a foil for the other, which necessary base for -feminine friendships being established, their relations -were further cemented by an equal loneliness, and made -more interesting by the expectation of an event. As it -was not yet fashionable to shoo the stork away from the -roof-tree, behold the pair fussing and sewing certain -small garments with much tucking, trimming, insertioning, -regulating said processes by the needs of some future -mystery dight "shortening"—all of which brought Helen -mixed feelings. The young husband's part in said -operations was particularly trying. Supposedly immersed in -his paper of evenings, he would watch them over the tip -with a delighted sagacity akin to the knowing look which -a bull-dog bestows on a crawling kitten. At times, too, -he would descend upon the work and lay wee undervests -out on his big palm, tie ridiculously small caps over his -shut fist, ask absurd questions, and generally display the -manly ignorance so sweet to the wifely soul; while Helen -sat, a silent spectator of their happiness. It is a -question which the acquaintance brought her most, pain or -pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tale of the boarders would not be complete -without mention of Jean Glaves, a buxom woman, fair of -hair, whose strong, broad face seemed to incarnate the -very spirit of motherhood. With her Helen's place was -never in doubt. Opening her big heart, she took the -lonely girl right in, and proved a veritable fount of energy -in her disheartening search for work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this her first experience conformed to that usual -with a working-girl—she shivered under icy stares, shrank -from the rude rebuffs of busy men, and blushed under -smiles of idle ones; sustained the inevitable insult at the -hands of a rascally commission broker at the end of one -day's employment. His quick, appraising glance, following -a first refusal, would have warned a sophisticated -business woman, but the innocence which betrayed -Helen later proved her best protection. The horror in -her eyes, childlike look of hurt surprise, set the dull reds -of shame in the fellow's cheeks, but she was out in the -street with hat and jacket while he was still muttering -his apology. Yet his grossness fell short of the vile -circumspection of her next employer. A smug pillar of -society and something in a church, caution would not -permit him to stake reputation against possible pleasure -on a single throw, yet she labored under no illusions as to -the motive behind her second discharge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I can't bear it! I just can't try again!" she -cried that night to Jean Glaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't have to, dearie," the big woman -comforted, and having tucked her comfortably upon her -own lounge with a wet cloth upon her aching head, she -went straight to the Scotch surgeon's room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her choice of confidant may have been due either to -intuition or knowledge of what was going on behind the -ramparts of the young man's breakfast paper. The -event proved it wise, for his giraffe neck lengthened -under his angry gulps, his bony hands and nodding head -emphasized and attested Jean's scathing deliverence -upon men in general. "The scoundrel!" he exclaimed, -when she paused for lack of breath. "The scoundrel! -I'd flog him mysel' but for the scandal. But see you -he'll no' go unpunished. He's a bid in for the hospital -supplies, and I'll be having a word with the head doctor." And -thus, later, was the smug villain hit to the tune of -some hundreds in his tenderest place, the pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not content with future revenge, the Scotchman's -sympathy expressed itself in practical suggestion. "If -ye'd think, Mistress Glaves"—he always accorded Jean -the quaint title, and it fell gracefully from his stiff -lips—"now if ye'd suppose the young leddy would like to try -her hand at nursing, there's a vacancy in the hospital."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he hesitated, Jean literally grabbed opportunity -by the collar. "You come along with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Introduced a few seconds thereafter to man and -subject, Helen exclaimed that she would love the work; -nor were her thanks less sincere for being couched in -stereotyped form. How </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> she thank him? Being -sincere to the point of pain, after the fashion of his -nation, the young man had almost answered that the -obligation lay with him in that his studies behind the -newspaper would be furthered and facilitated. He -replied, instead, that the pay would be small, the work -hard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not to be discouraged, she was thus launched upon -what, in her condition, was the best of possible careers. -For the mental suffering which, lacking an outlet, burns -inwardly till naught is left of feeling but slag and cinders, -becomes the strongest of motor forces when expended in -service for others. Throwing herself body and soul into -the new work, she forgot the suspicion, scandal that had -lately embittered her days, and had such surcease of -loneliness that in one month the lines of pain disappeared -from around her eyes, her drooping mouth drew again -into the old firm tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides content, the month brought her other satisfactions. -Owing to lack of accommodation at the hospital, -she still slept at the boarding-house, and dropping into -Jean Glaves's room for a chat one evening, she found her -conversing with a girl of her own age. She would have -retired but that Jean called her back. "Don't go! We -were talking of you. This is Miss Dorothy Chester, who -used to board with me. Miss Chester—Mrs. Morrill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was, of course, nothing in the names to convey -the significance of the introduction to either. After that -period of secret study which is covered by the feminine -amenities, each decided that she liked the other. Helen -gladly accepted Dorothy's invitation to call, and in this -ordinary fashion began a momentous acquaintance that -soon developed through natural affinity into one of those -rare and softly beautiful friendships which are -occasionally seen between women. And as friendship means -association in a city that has no theatre and few -amusements, it soon happened that any evening might see -Dorothy in Helen's room, or Helen on the way to her -friend's hotel. Naturally Helen quickly learned that her -friend's father and lover were head engineers on Carter's -road, and that she had visited them in camp; and as -Dorothy was as willing to talk of her novel experience -as Helen to listen, imagine the pair in the former's cosey -bedroom, one snugged up on a lounge, the other coiled -in some mysterious feminine fashion on pillows at her -side, fair girl hanging on dark girl's lips as she prattled -of Carter, or joining in speculations as to what kind of a -woman his wife might be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She positively jumped when Dorothy declared one -evening: "I'm sure he still loves her. Ernest says that -he scoured the city for her; only gave up when he felt -sure that she had gone East to her friends. When the -road is finished, he is going back to look for her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">He had searched for her</em><span>! </span><em class="italics">Still loved her</em><span>! It rhymed -with her deft fingers rolling bandages; tuned her feet as -she bore medicine-trays from ward to ward; ousted the -dry anatomical terms of the daily lecture from their -proper place in her mind. The thought illumined her -face so that maimed men twisted on their cots to watch -her down the ward. Meeting her on the main stairs, one -day, Carruthers, the Scotch surgeon, almost mistook her -for the Virgin Mother in the stained window above the -landing. </span><em class="italics">He searched for me! is going back East to look -for me</em><span>! The days spun by to that magical refrain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Why, in view of all this, did she not confide in Dorothy? -Though its roots grip deep down in woman nature, the -strange, contradictory, inconsequential, yet wise woman -nature, the reason lies close to the surface. Physically -akin to the impulse which urges a shy doe to fly from its -forest mate, her feeling flowed, mentally, from injured -wifehood. For all her natural sweetness and joy over -the thought of reunion, she was not ready to purchase -happiness with unconditional surrender; to make -overtures directly, or through Dorothy, that might be -construed as a bid for executive clemency. As he had -deserted her, so he must return; and that prideful resolution -was strengthened and justified by the suffering which -had immeasurably exceeded her fault. Yes, first he must -return, then—would she instantly forgive him? Any -lover can answer the question; if not, let him consult -his sweetheart. "I'd make him suffer!" she will cry, -gritting pretty teeth. So Helen. </span><em class="italics">Very</em><span> unchristian, -wicked, but natural.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No, she did not confide in Dorothy, went quietly about -her business, hugging her sweet secret to her own soul, -until— But this summary of her thought and feeling -would not be complete without mention of a last, -perhaps greatest, satisfaction—her joy in reading newspaper -accounts of Carter's progress. Editorials, politics, -reports, she read all, day by day, glowing over red-hot -denunciations of the monopoly while she thought what -good men the editors must be, and how intelligent to so -clearly discern her husband's merits. She was mightily -troubled by the insatiate appetite of the Devil's Muskeg, -studying its rapacious dietary as though it were a -diabetes patient. She triumphed when Carter successfully -treated its ineffable hunger with vegetarian diet of -sawdust; shivered when he was refused a crossing of the -trunk line; thrilled over the battle when Bender and -the woodmen beat back the monopoly's levies while the -trackmen laid the "diamond," and grew sick with fear, -as before mentioned, when she heard the newsboys crying -out Carter's final repulse as she was walking home to -her room about eight o'clock one evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though very tired, she immediately turned in her -agitation, and, undeterred by the continent of blue-print -uniform that spread below her brown ulster, she hurried -to Dorothy's hotel, an old caravansary that had survived -two rebellions and the bursting of the boom. Once chief -of the city's hostelries, the old house still attracted -people who preferred its solid comfort to the gilt, lacquer, -garish splendors of more modern rivals. The parlor in -which she waited while her name was taken up to -Dorothy, was panelled with sombre woods; her feet -literally sank in a pile carpet, thick, green, and dark -as forest moss. Walls were upholstered in hammered -leather; chairs, heavy table, massive furnishings, all -were of black oak. The portraits of governors, high -commissioners, and chief factors of the Hudson Bay -Company, soldiers and traders or both, seemed ready to -step down from their frames to engage in wise council -and issue fiats that would set a hundred tribes in motion. -Time stood still in that solid atmosphere. Heavy odors -of leather and wood, the pervading feeling of peaceful -age combined to soothe her fretted nerves, and she had -just relaxed her tired body within the embrace of a -mighty chair when passing footsteps and a voice brought -her up, tense and rigid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Returning just then, the bell-boy repeated her -question: "Gentlemen who just passed, Miss? Mr. Greer and -Mr. Smythe, people that are financing the new line, and -Mr. Carter, their head contractor. They are dining here -with the general manager of the trunk line. If you'd -like to see them," he added, interpreting her interest as -curiosity, "just step this way. They've all gone in, and -you can peep through the glass doors. It's that dark -in the passage no one will see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she tiptoed after him down the dark hallway he -whispered further—"Reminds me of them old Romans, -the general manager; them fellows that used to invite a -man to a poisoned dinner. He's got those chaps shooed -up into a corner, and now he's going to kill their financial -goose over the cigars and wine. Sure, Miss, everybody -knows that Greer's on his last legs. Bit off more than -he could chew when he went to railroading; but old -Brass Bowels will treat his indigestion. That's him, -stout gent with his back this way. Greer and Smythe's -either side of him. That's Mr. Carter opposite. T'other -gentleman, Mr. Sparks, is general superintendent of the -western division."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slipping by the others her glance glued—the term is -eschewed by purists, who ironically inquire if the -adhesive used was of the carpenter variety, but it exactly -describes her steadfast gaze—her glance glued to Carter's -face. From above an arc lamp streamed white light -down upon him, darkening the hollows under his eyes, -raising his strong features in bold relief. This, be it -remembered, was the first she had seen of him since he -broke in upon the Ravell dinner-party, black, sooty, -smelling evilly of sweat and smoke. And now he sat -with a waiter behind his chair, at meat with the greatest -man in the north, at a table that was spread with plate, -cut-glass, linen, all of a costly elegance that transcended -her own experience. The champagne bucket, at his -elbow, of solid silver, with gold-crusted bottles thrusting -sloping shoulders out of cracked ice, the last accessory of -luxurious living, took on wonderful significance in that -it accentuated to the last degree their changed positions. -For surely the gods had turned the tables by bringing -her in print hospital uniform and shabby ulster to -witness this crowning of his development.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Be sure she felt the contrast. How could she do -otherwise? Yet her feeling lacked the slightest touch of -humiliation. Above such snobbishness, she was filled -by joy and pride in his achievement, joined with -tremulous fear, for the bell-boy's remarks had quickened her -apprehension. That distinguished company, costly -appointments, perfect service, impressed her as little as it -did Carter, which is saying a good deal, for the pomp of -civilization counts more with women than men, and he -was bearing himself with the easiness of one who has -conquered social circumstance. He chose the right fork -for his salad, knife for his butter; broke his bread -delicately, trifled with green olives as if born to the -taste—though this edible presented itself as a new and bitter -experience—small things and foolish if made an end in -themselves, yet important in that, with improper usage, -they become as barbed thorns in the side of self-respect. -Significant things in Carter's case because they showed -that he had applied to his social relations the same -shrewdness, common-sense, keen sight that was making -him successful in large undertakings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course she noted his improvement? That he no -longer used knife for spoon, squared elbows over his head, -sopped bread in gravy? On the contrary, she saw only -his face, dark and stern save when a smile brought the -old humor back to his mouth. Her hungry eyes traced -its every line, marking the minutest changes wrought -by thought, care, sorrow, time's graving tools. Hands -pressing her breast, she struggled for his voice with thick -oak and heavy plate-glass, and so stood, wrapped up in -him and their past, till the bell-boy spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Chester said you was to go right up, Miss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She jumped, and her tremulous fear took form in -words. "You are sure the general manager will—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"—Do things to 'em?" he finished, as he led her -upstairs. "They're dead ones, Miss."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-nature-of-the-cinch"><span class="bold large">XXVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE NATURE OF THE CINCH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The bell-boy was not alone in his opinion. Through -that summer twenty thousand settler farmers had -kept suspicious tab on the monopoly, and now that it felt -the clutch reclosing on its throat, the entire province had -flamed up in wrath and fear. Press, legislature, and -pulpit denounced the refusal of a crossing that was without -shadow of a claim in equity, and was plainly intended -to kill competition by tedious and costly litigation. In -town, village, on trail, at meeting, wherever two settlers -were gathered together, the general manager's action -was damned in no uncertain terms. Indignation flowed -like a tidal-wave over the plains. Skimming low with -the north wind, an aeronaut would have heard the hum -of speech rise from the face of the land, angry and -continuous as the buzz of swarming bees. It had pealed -out in clarion triumph, that huge </span><em class="italics">vox humana</em><span>, when the -"diamond" was laid after desperate fighting; it swelled -in furious discordance when, the previous day, Carter's -men were forced back by sheer weight of the levies that -the general manager had gathered and brought in from -the sections along three thousand miles of track.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was one of those situations which require only a -touch of demagoguery to wreak great harm. Insurrection -hung thick in the air. Secession and coalescence -with the United States were openly advocated by men -who later read with astonishment their own words in the -papers of that stormy time. Thousands of armed settlers -waited only for the word to fall upon the monopoly's -levies, but in face of united public opinion, backed by an -inflamed press, Carter and his people remained -quiescent—supinely quiescent, according to certain editorials.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A morning paper recalled its prediction of months ago: -"We warned Mr. Carter not to be deceived by the -monopoly's complaisance in bringing his construction -outfit and supplies out from the East over its tracks. -The concession was merely bait for the trap, analogous -to the handing of a rope to a fool wherewith to hang -himself. We are loath to quote the old proverb against -Mr. Carter, yet were it not for the fact that the monopoly -snaps its fingers in the face of this province through him, -we should be tempted to show satisfaction at the plight -to which his fatuous self-confidence has brought him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The article closed with a vivid word picture of the -general manager chuckling </span><em class="italics">à la</em><span> Mephistopheles in the -privacy of his luxurious office; which, perhaps, approximated -the reality more closely than that in the minds of -the laity. For a composite of the popular impression -would have shown the entire railroad pantheon, -general manager, department heads, with their clerks, -sub-heads, assistants, and deputy assistants, all very lofty -of brow and solemn of face, in session over the crisis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The reality was much more prosaic. Indifferent to -the newsboys, who were crying his crimes on the streets, -the general manager sat in the office of the division -superintendent that morning, chair tilted back, feet on -the table, thumbs comfortably bestowed in the -arm-holes of his vest. It has remained for a practical -business age to clothe itself in the quintessence of ugliness. -Imagine Julius Cæsar in a tuxedo, Hamlet wearing a -stove-pipe hat! His black coat, check trousers would -have pleased a grocer's fancy in Sunday wear, and it -were difficult to realize that their commonplace ugliness -clothed a power greater than Cæsar's—the ability to -create and people provinces, to annihilate and build up -towns, to move cities like checkers over the map; harder -still to listen to his curt speech, issuing from blue tobacco -smoke, and believe that an empire larger than ancient -Rome paid him tribute, that the blood and sweat of a -generation had gone to grease his juggernautal wheels. -Yet the speech itself certified to the power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We made a mistake, Sparks; but who could foresee -this fellow Carter? Here's the N.P. lusting for a chance -to cut in over the border. Give them that crossing and -old Jim Ball will place their bonds for any amount in -exchange for reciprocal running arrangements. So we've -got to make a quick killing. Buy 'em out, lock, stock, -and barrel, while the fear of God's in their hearts. They -must sell—look at this Bradstreet report on old Greer's -assets. Just about at the end of his string. So I want -you to write and invite them to dinner to-night—Greer, -Smythe, and Carter—though the order ought to be -reversed; he's the brains of the business. Draw it -mild—conference with a view to amicable arrangement of -points at issue, and so forth. But when we once get -them there—" His nod was brutal in its significance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Equally wide of popular conception was the scene in the -banking office of Greer & Smythe when the invitation -was delivered. Carter, who swung an easy leg from his -favorite perch on the table, seemed to have thrived on -defeat; the most elastic imagination would have failed -to invest him with the weight of a people's cares. -Indeed, he laughed when the senior partner handed him the -general manager's note.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hum! 'Will you walk into my parlor, said the -spider to the fly!' What do I make of it? That's easy. -Has us going—or thinks he has—and is aching to deliver -the knock-out. A million to a minute he wants to buy -us out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he never will!" Red and plethoric, the senior -partner sprang up. An elderly man, his clear eyes, -honest face, framed in white side-whiskers of the -Dundreary style, all stamped him as belonging to the -old-fashioned school of finance which aimed always to -advance the civic interest while turning an honest -penny. "No, sir!" he reiterated. "We'll break first; and -goodness knows that is not so far away. Yesterday I -approached Murray, of the North American Bank, but -he answered me in his broad Scotch: 'Hoots, mon! get -your crossing first. Get your crossing an' we'll -talk.' And so with Butler, Smith, and others who -promised support."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cold feet, eh?" Carter commented. "They'll warm -them presently chasing themselves for a chance to -come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old gentleman ran on in his indignation. "Yes, -we are about at the end of our financial string, but we -would rather dangle there than yield to these pirates. -Am I right, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Smythe, a younger man, lean, laconic, and dark as -the other was stout, florid, nodded, and his vigorous -answer was untainted by a suspicion of compromise. -"Surely, sir! But if Mr. Carter's plan fails—" His -shrug supplied the hiatus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter answered the shrug. "It won't fail." He held -up the invitation. "But, say! Fancy—to-day, of all -days?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course we won't go," Smythe frowned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course we* will*," Carter grinned. "Think what it -means? Besides blinding them to the trap, we shall be -there when it springs, and I wouldn't miss Brass Bowels' -face for a thousand, cash. Let me see; the bid is for -eight-thirty. Western flyer is due at Portage station -nine-fifteen. He'll hardly broach business before the -coffee, and with any kind of luck we ought to serve him -up a beautiful case of indigestion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With luck?" the senior partner echoed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With or without. Everything is planned beyond -possibility of failure. Mr. Chester goes with Mr. Hart -on the construction-train, while Bender keeps things -humming at the crossing. By-the-way, he's in the outer -office now, with Hart, waiting for last orders, and if you -don't mind I'll have them in. I wouldn't take a chance -even on your clerks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In view of just such a contingency, Bender had invested -his bulk with store clothes of that indescribable -pattern and cut which fulfils lumberman ideals. From -his mighty shoulders a quarter-acre of black coat fell -half-way down worsted pantaloons that were displaying -an unconquerable desire to use the wrinkles of high -boots as a step-ladder to his knees. As collars did not -come in sizes for his red throat, he had compromised -on a kerchief of gorgeous silk, and a soft hat, flat and -black, completed a costume that was at once his pride -and penance. In the luxurious office, with its rich fittings -in mahogany and leather, he loomed larger than ever; -was foreign as a bear in a lady's boudoir. Uncomfortably -aware of the fact, he took the chair which the senior -partner offered with a sigh of relief, and was fairly comfortable -till the position discovered its own disadvantages—while -his coat announced every movement with miniature -</span><em class="italics">feux de joie</em><span> from bursting seams, his trousers ascended -his boots as a fireman goes up a hotel escape. To -which sources of discomfort was added the knowledge -that his face mapped in fair characters the fluctuations -of the recent combat. But he forgot all—scars, raiment, -unconventional bulk—as soon as he began to talk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All ready," he replied to Carter's question. "Buckle -has been round the camp some lately. Only this morning -I caught him talking to Michigan Red. It's a cinch -that he was spotting for the railroad, but as I knew -you'd as lief he'd tip us off as not, I didn't bust his head. -Jes' allowed I didn't see him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, let him talk," Carter replied, relative to the -broken contractor. "But"—he addressed the -surveyor—"there's no whispering in your outfit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't be," the young fellow laughed. "Mr. Chester -only told </span><em class="italics">me</em><span> an hour ago. The men know nothing—will -</span><em class="italics">know</em><span> nothing up to the moment we pull into -Prairie."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good. Now, you are to leave at dusk, and don't -forget to grab the operator before he can rattle a key. -But turn him loose as soon as you are through and let -him wire in the news. And you, Bender, start in at -eight, keep 'em busy as long as you can, then load what's -left of you in a flat-car and steam round for Mr. Hart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's left of me?" Bender growled, as he walked -with the surveyor down-street a few minutes later. -"Hum! Give me the Cougar and an even hundred of -old-style Michigan men, and I'd drive the last of Brass -Bowels' tarriers into the Red and beat you out laying -the diamond. But, Lordy, what's the use o' talking! -The old stock petering out an' the new's jes' rotten with -education. They'd sooner work than fight, an' loaf than -either, for they ain't exactly what you'd call perticler -hell on labor. What's left of me? Well, there'll be -some fragments, I guess. While I was hanging round I -picked up an odd score of Oregon choppers that blew in -here las' week. Brass Bowels' agent tried for 'em, but -they'd lumbered with me in British Columbia. Come -out an' see 'em. They're beauties."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps they were, for standards of beauty, morality, -of any old thing, are merely relative and depend so much -on local color. To Hart, who reviewed the "beauties" -in Bender's camp, they seemed the most unmitigated -ruffians in his railroad experience; but as they strut on -this small section of the world-stage for "Positively one -appearance only," let them be judged by their record in -the rough work of that night; by the way in which they -bore themselves in the roar, surge, and tumble of a losing -fight, the echoes of which alarmed the dark city and -came with the soup to the general manager's dinner; -and let him deliver their valedictory to his guests at table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Throwing a telegram—which a waiter brought in just -after Helen went up-stairs—across to Carter, the -magnate remarked: "That big foreman of yours has been at -it again. He has put two of our heaviest engines into -the ditch and ten men into hospital. Not bad, but—he -didn't lay the diamond."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well," Carter shrugged, "better luck next time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, yes—the next time?" Repeating the phrase -with dubious inflection, he went on with his dinner, and -for an hour thereafter no one heard the rattle of the -skeleton behind the feast. He acted the perfect host, -easily courteous, pleasant, anxious for the preference of -his guests. As he ran on, drawing from the sources of a -wide and unusual experience for his dinner chat, it was -curious to note the shadings in his manner. Addressing -the partners, he seemed to exhale rather than evidence -a superiority which, on their part, they countenanced -by an equally subtle homage. Integrity and deprecation -of his policy and methods were dominated by the -orthodox business sense which forced subconscious recognition -of his title as king of their business world. With -Carter, however, he was frankly free, as though they -two had been section-men eating their bite together on -a pile of ties, and doubtless the difference in his -manner sprang from some such feeling. For whereas the -partners were born to their station, he recognized Carter -as a product—unfinished, but still a product—of the forces -which had produced himself and a dozen other kings and -great contractors of the constructive railroad era. Without -invidious distinction or neglect of the others, he yet -made him the focus of attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We heard all about your sawdust grades," he complimented, -with real cordiality. "A mighty clever idea, sir; -pity you couldn't patent it—though we are glad you -cannot, for we intend to apply it on all our Rainy River -muskegs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Approaching business at the close of the meal, he was -equally suave. "You are to be complimented upon your -achievement, gentlemen," he said, addressing the -partners. "We feel that while supplying a real need of the -province, you have convicted us of remissness. But -now that we do see our duty, it would be equally criminal -for us to leave you the burden of this heavy responsibility. -We know how it has taxed your resources"—his gray -eye stabbed the senior partner—"and we are fully -prepared to relieve you." Pausing, he lit a cigar, puffed a -moment, and finished, "We will take the enterprise off -your hands, bag and baggage, on terms that will yield -you a handsome profit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A pause followed. No man turns from an easy road -to a rocky climb without lingering backward glances, -and the partners looked at one another while the general -manager leaned back and smoked with the air of one -who had faithfully performed a magnanimous duty. -Greer spoke first.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very kind offer, I am sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most handsome," Smythe, the laconic, added. -"But—" He glanced at Carter, who finished, "We are -not on the market."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manager raised his brows. Expecting a first -refusal, he was slightly staggered and irritated by its -bluntness, yet masked both emotions. "Not on your -own terms?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On no terms," Greer emphatically answered; then, -flushing, he added: "Our chief motive in going into this -enterprise, sir, was to bring sorely needed railroad -competition into this province. It would not be subserved -by our selling to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manager flicked the ash from his cigar. Then, -while smoking, he regarded the old gentleman from under -bulging lids very much as a curious collector might note -the wriggles of an impaled beetle. "Very laudable -intention; does you credit, sir. But you must pardon me -if I doubt that you will carry it to the length of financial -hari-kari. You have heard of that Japanese custom? -A man commits suicide, empties himself upon a cold and -unsympathetic world for the benefit of his enemy, who -is compelled by custom to go and do likewise. In your -case the sacrifice would be foolish because we shouldn't -follow suit. Now when I spoke of your resources"—during -an ugly pause his glance flickered between the -partners—"I did not state our exact knowledge of their -extent. You are—practically—broke. In addition, we -have bought up all of your paper that we could find -floating on the market, and three months from now—we -shall be in a position to demand a receiver in bankruptcy. -Stop!" Frowning down Greer's attempted interruption, -he dropped his suave mask and stood out, the financial -king, brutal, imperious, predatory. "I know what you -would say. Three months is a long time. But no one -will make you a better offer—any offer—till you can cross -our line. You can force a crossing? Yes, but we'll law -you, badger you, carry the case from court to court up -to the privy council—two years won't make an end. -In the meantime—" He had thrown himself at them, -bearing down upon them with all the force of his -powerful will, of the furiously strong personality that had -crushed financial opposition to plans and projects -beside which their enterprise was as a grain of sand to the -ocean. Now, in a flash, he became again the polished -host. "Take your time, gentlemen. </span><em class="italics">We</em><span> are in no hurry. -Several days, if you choose. But—be advised."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But big, strong, and masterful as the manager was, -every Goliath has his David, and the first stone in the -forehead came from the sling of Smythe—Smythe, who -had hardly opened his mouth through the meal save for -the admittance of food or drink. Banging the table so -that the glass rang and a champagne bowl flew from its -thin stem, he sprang up, his dark face flushed and defiant. -"We'll take neither your advice nor your time! God -knows that we are hard shoved, but damn a man who -sells his country! And since you have been so outspoken, -let me tell you that we'll run trains across your -line, and that inside—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This hour." In its quiet assurance, Carter's -interpolation came with all the force of an accomplished fact. -The manager started, and the division superintendent -upset his wine. As their backs were to the door, neither -saw a waiter take a telegram from a messenger-boy, and -sign for its delivery after a glance at the clock, which -indicated half-past nine. Nor could either fact have the -significance for them that their combination had for -Carter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manager recovered his poise even as the waiter -handed the telegram to his colleague, and, though puzzled, -hid the feeling behind a show of confident contempt. "I -hardly gather your meaning, but presume you mean—war?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Missing the superintendent's sudden consternation, he -was going on. "Very well. I </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> hoped—" when the -former pulled his sleeve. "What's this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stared blankly at the words: "Construction-train, -with men and Gatling-guns, across our tracks at Prairie. -Number ten, Western Mail, held up with three hundred -passengers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During an astonished silence, the partners watched the -manager, who looked at Carter, who lightly drummed on -the table. "Your train?" he went on, slowly, with -words that evidenced his flashing insight into the -situation. "Hum! Sawdust, eh? Came down the spur you -laid to the Portage Mills at Prairie; grabbed our -operator; then extended the mill-switch across our tracks. -Know how to kill two birds with one stone, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During a second silence he fenced glances, nervously -fingering the telegram, then suddenly asked: "What's -the use? You can't hold it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With two Gatlings and five hundred men—five thousand, -if I need them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The law's against you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As it is against you at the crossing. Possession is -said to be nine of its points, anyway, so we have you -just nine-tenths to the bad." Slightly smiling, he quoted: -"'We'll law you, badger you, carry the case from court -to court up to the privy council—two years won't make -an end.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The manager raised heavy lids. "In three months -we'll break you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter shrugged. "Who knows? In the mean time—your -traffic will be suspended?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through all the superintendent had fidgeted nervously; -now he broke in: "Pish, man! We'll build round -your old train in six hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you?" Without even a glance in his direction, -Carter ran on, addressing the manager: "You see, land -is that cheap since the boom that we took options on a -right of way from Prairie clean up to the north pole and -down to the American border. No, you won't go around -us, but we shall go round you and come into this burg -south of your tracks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you're out of law," the superintendent angrily -persisted. "You haven't the shadow of a right—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, shut up, Sparks," the manager impatiently -interrupted. "What has right to do with it? He's got us -in the door and it's no use squealing. Now"—the glance -he turned on Carter was evenly compounded of hostility -and admiration—"terms? You'll release our train—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you cede our legal crossing, and call off your -dogs. We'll hold Prairie till every man Jack of your -guards is shipped out of the city."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could you have the papers drawn—" He had intended -"to-night," but he paused as Greer drew them -from an inner pocket and his iron calm dissolved in -comical disgust. "Hum! You're not timid about -grabbing time by the forelock. But, let me see!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once more the arc lights could be heard sputtering. -In that tense moment their own fortunes swung in the -balance with the welfare of a province, and while the -manager read they waited in silence. Trimming the -end of a cigar with careful precision, Carter masked all -feeling, but the partners could not hide their -nervousness—Smythe fidgeted, Greer locked and unlocked -clasped fingers. Both held their breath till the -manager's pen made a rough scratch on the silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A good loser, he said, as Greer rose after buttoning -his coat over the precious document: "Don't go, -gentlemen—at least till we have drunk the occasion. I see -another bottle there in the ice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And his toast, "To our next merry meeting," formed -the premise of the deduction which Carter returned to -Greer's relieved exclamation when they stood, at last, -alone in the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God! It is over!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the contrary, it is just begun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Passing under a street lamp, its white light revealed -the pale disturbance which banished the senior partner's -flushed content. Stopping dead, he agitatedly seized -Carter's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't suppose he will go back on his—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Signature? No, he won't repeat. He's done with -the crossing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then we can weather through," Greer said, and -Smythe echoed his sigh of relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But—" Carter quoted the bucolic proverb which -recites the many ways in which a pig may be killed other -than by a surfeit of butter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what </span><em class="italics">can</em><span> he do?" Greer persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't know," Carter slowly answered. "Only a -man don't have to look at that bull-dog jaw of his a -second time to know that he'll do it, and do it quick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd give a good deal to know," Smythe frowned, then -smoothed his knotted brow as he laughed at Carter's -rejoinder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd give three cents myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not feeling sleepy, Carter walked on after he had -dropped the partners at their respective doors, -aimlessly threading the dark streets that gave back his -hollow foot-fall; and so passing, by chance, under Helen's -window, he brought a pause in the anxious meditation -which had kept her restlessly tossing, and set her to -momentary speculations as to the owner of that firm -and heavy tread. She listened, listened till it grew -fainter and died as he turned the corner. Keeping on -in the cool silence, he presently came to the Red River -suspension bridge, where he paused and leaned on the -parapet at the very spot from which she loved to watch -Indians and chattering squaws float beneath in quaint -birch canoes. There was, of course, nothing to warn -him of the fact any more than she could have guessed -him as owner of the solitary foot-fall. He thought of her, -to be sure. Always she stood in the background, ready -to claim him whenever press of affairs permitted -reflection; and now she thrust in between him and the -twinkling lights of the sleeping city. Where was she? And -doing—what? How much longer before he could go in -search of her? After long musing he swept the weary -intervening days away with an impatient gesture, and -his longing took form in muttered speech:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long? My God! how much longer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thought brought him back to his work and the -events of the evening. What would be the manager's -next move? He gazed down into the dark river intently, -as though he expected its hoarse voice to give answer. -But though he canvassed, as he thought, every possibility, -the reality—which presented itself a week or so -after he resumed operations in the Silver Creek -forests—was beyond the range of his thought.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-strike"><span class="bold large">XXVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE STRIKE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As aforesaid, it was the unexpected that opposed -Carter with a visage of stony calm when he came -from Winnipeg out to the "Ragged Lands" a week or so -later. For whereas he had left the camp convulsed in -throes of constructive labor, the whistle of his engine -raised piercing echoes; no other sounds disturbed the -sleeping forest. In the cut south of the camp he passed -the big digger, at rest from the roar, rattle, and clank -of chains, hiss of escaping steam. The pile-driver loomed -idly on a distant trestle. When engine and caboose -stopped opposite the cook-house, he saw that the -camp—which ought to have been empty—teemed with men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shrugged when Hart, who was with him, exclaimed -in wonder: "Can't prove it by me. But we'll -soon know. There's Bender—coming from the office."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strike," the giant replied to their questioning. -"Teamsters, graders, bridge and track men, all went out -at noon. What for? God knows; but I allow that -Buckle could tell. He wasn't hanging round the -Winnipeg camp for nothing. I'm sorry now—" His bunched -fists, big as mauls, fully explained his regret, and -indicating a group which was arranging its progress so as -to make the office door with Carter, he finished: "But -if you're hankering for reasons, consult them gentlemen. -It's a depytation—by its scowl. An' it's loaded to the -muzzle with statistics to fire at you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Following his finger, Carter noted that Michigan Red -was of the deputation, but when it ranged up at the tent -door in sheepish yet defiant array, that worthy hung -modestly in the rear, permitting a big teamster from the -Silver Creek settlements to act as spokesman. Blunt, -honest, tenacious as a bull-dog in holding to an idea, -the man was an ideal tool for unscrupulous hands; but -though he instantly divined the reasons behind his -leadership, Carter listened quietly to his tale—the old -tale—overwork, poor food, underpay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His answer was equally quiet. "You are certainly -to be pitied, Bill; breaks me all up just to think of your -wrongs. I've always admired your thrift, and I sympathize -with your desire to raise the mortgage off your -farm. Took you five years to put it on, didn't it, Bill? -And you are calculating to pay it off in the next two -months. Well, perhaps—but you'll have to screw it out -of some one else than me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shuffling uneasily, the teamster glanced at his backers, -who, equally nonplussed, gazed at one another. For -where an angry, or even a plain answer would have merely -incited them to dogged opposition, this quiet ridicule -sapped conceit in their cause, besides conveying an -alarming suggestion of strength in reserve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you don't allow to fall in with our notions?" The -spokesman returned after a whispered conference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Meaning—an hour less and a dollar more? You're -sure a psychic, Bill; plumb wasted on railroading. -Open an office in town and go to fortune-telling and -you'd pull that plaster off your homestead inside a -month."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Assured that there was no hurry, that he could take a -week to consider the matter, he gravely added: "Obliged -to you, Bill; but I don't allow to require it. The world, -you'll remember, was made in six days, and this isn't -near such a big job. No time like the present, and here's -my answer—same hours, same grub, same pay. It's -fortune-telling or present rates for yours, Bill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through all he entirely ignored the delegation, and -now he leaned in the door, idly watching as it made its -way across the camp and was swallowed in the crowd -of strikers about the bunk-house. But his face fell as he -stepped inside beyond eye and ear shot. "Serious?" -he repeated Hart's question. "Couldn't be worse. Not -one of those fellows could make a quarter of the wages -or live half as well on the farm, but they'd hog it all if -I died in the ditch. But there's more behind this than -their spite and greed. You see, we have just about pulled -old Murray in for funds to make a clean finish, and if he -gets wind of this he'll crawfish like a one-legged crow. -I must go back at once. And you, Bender—you, also, -Hart—see to it that not even a dog crawls out of this -camp until I return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To keep these chaps guessing," he added, after a -moment's dark reflection, "I'd better slip out after dusk. -You go over, Hart, and whisper the engineer to back out -and wait for me at the other side of the cut. Mystery is -good as aces up in any old game, and we can't fog them -too much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pulling out at dark, he made the run back to town—fifty -miles—in an hour and a quarter, reckless running on -unballasted road. Murray </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> be fully committed -before the news leaked out. </span><em class="italics">We must get him, must get -him, must, must, must</em><span>! The wheels clicked it, the steam -hissed it, the fire roared it, the wind shrieked the -imperative refrain. But though Bender lived in the strict -letter of his instructions so that a mosquito could scarce -have escaped from the camp; though a man could not -have made the distance in two days on foot, or a wild -goose have passed the throbbing engine as it bounded -along that raw track, newsboys were yet crying the -strike as he came out on Main Street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Feeling certain that the office would be closed at that -hour, he intended to go straight to Greer's house, but -seeing a light in the partners' room as he came opposite -the building, he went in and found Smythe there, alone. -With lean legs thrust out before him, hands deep in -his pockets, shoulders hunched to his ears, his attitude -incarnated deep dejection; gloom resided in his nod.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Greer?" he said. "At home—sick. You see, we -were to have closed the deal with Murray this very -evening, and the disappointment just knocked the old man -out. He's been running altogether on his nerve lately; -something had to give. Why </span><em class="italics">couldn't</em><span> this have -happened a day later?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Answering Carter's question, he went on: "We heard -it at noon. Papers got out an extra. Presses must have -been running it off before you left."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Noon?" Carter whistled. "Why the men didn't -quit till two!" Then as the significance flashed upon -him, he exclaimed: "Brass Bowels for a million! It -was all cut, dried, and laid away for us, and they served -it hot to the minute. Don't—it—beat—hell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His comical disgust caused Smythe a wintry grin, but, -sobering, he said: "I wouldn't mind so much for -myself. I'm young enough to do it again. But the old -gentleman—with that nice family! You know he was -just about ready to retire; only took up this business -from a strong sense of public duty. And now, in his -extremity, every rat financier in this city runs to his -hole in fear of the cat. The poor old man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter nodded his sympathy. On the occasions that -he visited their house, Greer's wife, a silver-haired old -lady, had vied with her two daughters in pleasant -attentions. But it did not require that thought to stir him -to action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, here!" he laughed. "We are not dead yet. To-morrow -I'll go the round of the employment offices and—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Smythe threw up his hands, a gesture eloquent of -despair. "Went round myself—this afternoon. Harvest -is on and men scarcer than diamonds. Besides, Brass -Bowels has left an order with every agency in town to -ship every man they can get west to the mountains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um-m!" Carter thought a while. "Then we'll have -to play the last card."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The last card?" Smythe raised his eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, biggest trump in the pack. How long before—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, they can't touch us for two months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! Now listen." Glancing around as though -distrustful of the very walls, he whispered in Smythe's -ear for a minute that saw the latter's dejection dissolve -in new-born hope. "You must go with me," he finished, -aloud. "While you pack your grip, I'll drop round and -see Greer. He must be here to-morrow to carry out the -bluff. And hurry—for we must make it down and back -before we are missed."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-bluff"><span class="bold large">XXIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE BLUFF</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the fifth day of the strike, and still no sound of -labor disturbed the sleeping forest. Quiet and calm, -like that of the Sabbath, brooded over the camp, but not -its peace, for, being well rested, the strikers chafed under -inaction, moving restlessly among the buildings. Michigan -Red, to be sure, was dealing interminable poker on -a blanket under a tree, while the younger men skylarked -or tried one another out in games, but neither forms of -amusement appealed to the older and more thrifty -Canadians. Secret disquiet, moreover, underlay even the -nonchalance of the gamblers, for Bender's mysterious -looks and Carter's continued absence were rapidly -disintegrating the strikers' confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He ain't here," the giant had answered, when the -committee had called for another conference, and to -further questioning he had returned an irritating grin. -"When will he be back? That's for us to know an' you -to find out." And so, shorn of its functions, the -committee had languished like a moulting peacock. In -addition, the cook's ominous visage at meal-times bade -the strikers beware that the curse of labor still clung to -the fruits of the earth; and the fact that almost a -month's back pay rested in Carter's hands, served as a -text and lent force to the unpreached sermon. What if -he never came back? The history of Western construction -abounded with cases of absconding contractors, and -the hostility of the monopoly lent substance to the -doubt. Most of them would have hailed Carter's -advent, just then, with real if secret pleasure, and the -general uneasiness manifested itself in a grumbling -remark made as Michigan Red raked a fat "jack-pot" -into his winnings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're the only one that's making anything these days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right," another grumbler added. "An' what's -more, if we're out another five days the raise won't pull -us even by freeze-up. Ten days lost at three-fifty is -thirty-five dollars. Take the extra dollar seven weeks -to make it up—if the frost holds off that long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Apparently indifferent, Michigan went on with his -deal. "You're hell at figures, Chalky. Where'd you -learn? Figuring interest on your mortgage? How -many cards, Bill?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bill, spokesman of the committee, laid down his -hand. "Look here, Red! Chalky's right. If we hadn't -struck we'd have had a pay-day yesterday, an' if we're -standing to lose that much we can't call it off too soon -for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor me." The voices, pitched in altercation, had -brought the idlers crowding, and the support came in -from all around.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Michigan's teeth gleamed white through his red beard -while his bleak eyes took stock of the crowding faces as -though calculating just how far envy and avarice would -take them. "You don't stand to lose a cent, Bill. -They've got to finish the contrac' before freeze-up to -reach the tie an' lumber-camps. Otherwise the road 'll -be idle all winter, an' what's a few days' pay alongside -the freight on a hundred million feet of lumber. He's -got to finish it. If he kain't"—pausing, he distributed -a significant nod around the circle—"there's others as -kin an' will."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what if he don't come back?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To the question which expressed the most pregnant -doubt, he returned a second meaning nod. "Same -folks 'll make good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back pay?" Bill pressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back pay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On whose say so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ain't mine good enough?" Ruffling, he turned a -stream of fierce profanity upon Carrots Smith, his -questioner. "Want Bible and oath for yours, eh? There's -some things that kain't be told to idiots—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, Red!" Bill soothed. "We know—that's all -right, Red. Don't mind him, he's only a suckling kid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure, Red! You know what you're talking about. -Go on!" others chorused, and having gained his point by -the show of anger, real or false, the teamster allowed -himself to be placated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If 'twas necessary," he continued, "we could tie up -the road with a laborer's lien. But 'twon't be—I have -somebody's word for it. If Carter goes under, we jes' -go right on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With the raise?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With the raise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if he comes back?" Chalky raised another doubt. -"What about lost time? Freeze-up is freeze-up, an' we -kain't make it up if we're docked for the lay-off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's easy. Who's to blame for it?" He threw it -at the circle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Him! He wouldn't give the raise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then let him pay for his fun. We've got him coming -or going, an' we draw time, at the new rates, for every -idle day before we touch a tool. Ain't that right?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not, yet his crooked logic exactly matched their -envious cupidity. Confidence once more returned; the -younger men returned to their sports; Bill picked up his -hand, and the game proceeded until interrupted, a -half-hour later, by a sudden shout and shrill neighing from -the horse lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The stallion's loose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shouting, the roustabout tore across the clearing and -just escaped the rush of the vicious brute by nimbly -climbing the projecting logs at the cook-house corners. -At his cry, a youth dropped the shot he had poised for a -throw, the gamblers their cards, and, balking in the -take-off for a broad jump, Carrots Smith led the rush for -cover. A minute saw them all on top of cook or bunk -houses, and thus defrauded of his preference, the stallion -ran amuck among the horses which were tied at long -hay-racks, kicking, rearing, biting. Though built massively -of logs, the racks gave way with splintering crashes under -the combined pull of a hundred frightened beasts; and -bunching, the string tore round the clearing, squealing -their fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To give the beast ease with his oats, Michigan had -removed the iron muzzle according to his custom, and -now, a free, wild thing, he bounded along in hot pursuit, -curveting, caracoling, satanic in his jet-black beauty. -Tossing his wild mane, he would call the mares with -stridulous cachinnations, yet for all his exultant passion -left them to chase a belated teamster, nose lowered, ears -wickedly pricked, thrice around the cook-house. Balked -again, he reared, kicked, and was plunging once more -after the string when a whistle outshrilled his neigh, and -an engine with caboose attached rolled out of the cut -south of the camp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But for the pounding hoofs, the collective whisper, -"It's the boss!" would have carried to Carter, who, with -Smythe, stood looking out at the door of the caboose; -and his first remark, "Regular circus, isn't it?" was -eminently applicable to the situation. Upholding the -sky's blue roof, black spruce cones formed bulky pillars -for the natural amphitheatre in which the horses circled -and recircled, a kicking, squealing stream, before the -audience on the roofs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are you going?" Smythe exclaimed, as Carter -leaped to the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To rope that beast before he runs a season's flesh off -the teams. There's a riata in the office."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Better shoot him," Smythe counselled. "Here! come -back!" But he was already half-way across the clearing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Choosing his time, he passed from the smithy to the -bunk-house, thence to the cook-house, and so working -from building to building under the eyes of his men, he -gained the office at last and shot in, barely escaping the -mad cavalcade. As he emerged, coiling the riata, Smythe's -gaze drew to a second actor in this woodland drama.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the poker players broke for cover, Michigan -Red had paused long enough to pocket the stakes along -with his winnings, then picking up the blanket he walked -over to the cook-house, and had watched all from the -angle formed by the jutting corner logs. "A bit closer -would have suited better," he had grumbled, as Carter's -last rush carried him from under the hoofs. Now he -commented: "Going to rope him, are you? Not if I -know it." Knowledge of his fellows' liability to lapses -of hero-worship inhered in his conclusion. "If there's -to be gran'stan' plays I'll make 'em myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fools!" he snarled, as the beat of feet warned him -that the strikers on the roof were watching Carter, who -had taken position behind the next corner. He heard -also the swish of the circling noose, its quickened whir -as the horses swooped around on the next lap; then, just -as the band passed, he sprang out, uttering a sudden -harsh command, directly in the stallion's path.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A desperate play, it drew gambler's luck. A frontier -superstition has it that the equine eye magnifies objects, -and whether or no the red teamster with his pale-green -face loomed in the stallion's sight as some huge and -passionate fiend, he reared back on strung haunches, ploughing -the sod in a desperate effort to stop; and while he hung -in mid-air, Michigan stepped and threw his blanket, -matador-fashion, over the ugly head. As the brute settled -on all-fours and stood shivering, Michigan turned, -grinning, to reap the fruit of his daring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his grin quickly faded, for, flashing on to his -purpose, Carter had swung and roped the rat-tailed mare, -the stallion's mate, as the band flew by. Worse! -Michigan choked. Almost every man in camp had a grudge -against the mare, some vicious lunge or graze from her -snapping teeth, so a dozen strikers had jumped and were -helping Carter to choke her down, while the others -cheered them on with approving laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Furious, he yelled: "What's the matter with you chaps -up there? Taken to roosting like chickens? I'd like a -picture of the bunch, it ud pass anywhere for a Methodist -convention. An' you fellows quit yanking that mare. -'Tain't tug-o'-war you're playing." But he made small -headway against the uproarious tide of yells and laughter, -and, remembering his snub, Carrots Smith shouted back, -"She's doin' most of the pulling, an' if she wants to hang, -why let her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Worst of all, it was Carter who finally interfered on -behalf of the struggling brute, and Michigan chafed at -the ready obedience accorded his orders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thought you fellows was on strike?" he growled at -Brady, the Irish teamster, as he retied the stallion in -the horse lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But wrathfully indicating a bloody bruise on his own -horse, the Irishman hotly retorted, "Faith, thin, an' -that's no sign that we'll be lettin' them murthering brutes -av yourn chew the necks av our teams? If they was -mine, I'd make wolf-meat av the pair before supper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Michigan sneered. "Didn't I ketch him myself? An' -then you fellows had to go running your legs off to suit -him. Keep it up, an' it's you an' your strike that'll be -made into hash for his supper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Michigan thus tried to scotch incipient sympathy -with rough sarcasm, Carter carried with him to the office -the comfortable assurance that fortune had turned down -to him this accidental trick in a difficult game. -Shrugging deprecation of Hart's admiring comments on his skill -with the riata, he returned a reminiscence of his -cowpunching days to Smythe's chidings, asserting that the -stallion was not a circumstance to a long-horn steer on -an open prairie. While talking, he helped to arrange -the contents of Smythe's grip on the rough table, piling -greenbacks by denominations between flanking columns -of silver, an imposing array.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No hurry," he said, when Hart asked if he should -call the men, and, lighting a cigar, he drawled a story -which at one time explained his reason and illumined -his plan. "I remember a kid who won three sizes out -of his class by a little judicious waiting. His dad had -set him a spading stint in the back lot, and when this -other boy brings-to on the sidewalk and begins to heave -belligerencies over the fence, he answers, that calm and -deliberate that you'd never think he was burying his -heart under every spadeful, 'Jes' you wait till I finish my -patch.' And he goes on digging so cheerfully that the -other kid is a mite staggered. As I say, he was about -three sizes to the good, but as you'll remember, -Napoleon's Old Guard could put it all over a young lady's -seminary for hysteria if it was kept too long waiting. -Watching that slow spade, this lad's imagination went -to working so hard that he fought that fight thirteen -times in as many minutes, and felt that used up he just -ran like a March hare when the other kid stuck his spade -in the trench. The wise kid?" He twinkled on Hart. -"I was that glad, I played hookey from school an' won -a licking from the old man five sizes larger than I'd have -got from the boy. But it was worth it. I learned that -it always pays to give it time to soak in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outside the strikers furnished a vivid illustration of -that lesson during the next three hours he kept them -waiting. Grouping, they made loud mouths at first, -over supposititious wrongs or affected indifference that -was belied by uneasy glances officeward. Less loquacious -at the end of the first hour, the second left them -sullen and silent; the third, eaten by suspense. They -started, as at a sudden explosion, when Bender finally -came out; stared blankly when he announced that the -boss was waiting to pay off the camp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Affording no time for recovery, Hart called the first -name on the pay-roll, and Bender's stentorian bass sent -it rolling into the woods. "Anderson! Anderson! -Hurry up, Anderson!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The name chanced to be the property of Bill, the -spokesman, but though used as little as his Sunday -clothes, there was more than unfamiliarity behind his -slowness. More tenacious of idea, as aforesaid, than -quick of wit, Bill now found himself without plan, -precedent, or time for counsel in these unexpected premises, -nor could he draw inspiration from the blank looks of his -fellows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurry up, Anderson!" Bender crossly repeated; and -starting as though touched in some secret spring, Bill -lurched forward and in, and so found himself facing -Carter, Hart, and Smythe behind an awesome financial array.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Never before had Bill seen so much money at once—even -in dreams; it totalled more than the hard earnings -of his forty-odd years; would have paid his mortgage ten -times over. The substance of modern power, its glitter -challenged the loud-mouthed assertions of him and his -fellows that, given the same luck, they could have done -as well as Carter. By the light of its golden glow, Bill -saw himself very weak and small and foolish. At home -he seldom saw a dollar; had trouble in scraping up -currency enough to pay his taxes, and effected his barterings -at the store in truck and trade. With his doubts settled -as to the solvency of the firm, Bill was suddenly afflicted -with a suspicion that he had made the biggest kind of a -fool of himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Correctly interpreting his glance at the table, Carter -gave him a genial smile. "Yes, Bill; but you don't get -it by laying off. Here's your bit. Touch the pen -and— Five dollars short? Board and feed for five days, Bill. -Man earns his bread by the sweat of his brow, you know. -Pass on, and don't forget to remember me to your wife -when you gain home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As with Bill, so the others. Filing in, they testified, -one by deeper sullenness, others by attempts at a -swagger, to the influences which had wrought on him. Few -attained the easy insolence of Michigan Red, who -demanded an itemized account of his store bill and insisted -on signing the roll with his own hand. Touching the -pen, railroad fashion, they passed out, while Hart signed -for them, to add their doubtings to the general mystification.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What was forward? Had Carter obtained new crews, -or would the company close down work? As the line -still fell thirty miles short of the northern settlements, -the latter thought filled the minds of the Silver Creek -men, who saw themselves left marketless by their own act, -with sick misery; brought pause to their envious cupidity, -despite Michigan's assurances that it was all a bluff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tain't," Bill Anderson contradicted him. "I was just -over to the cook-house for a drink, an' the cook has orders -to serve no meals after breakfast to-morrow morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That so?" a dozen voices questioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ask for yourselves. He's at the door now calling to -supper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the cook confirmed the report, adding, moreover, -his mite to their discomfiture by malignantly -animadverting upon the ménages to which they were about to -return. "My cooking don't suit, eh?" demanded the -offended artist. "It's pertatoes an' sow-belly for yours -after this. In a month you won't be able to tell your -ribs from a rail corral." And truth so flavored his -railings that they saw, in fancy, themselves looking back -from their prairie farms upon his rude but plentiful -fleshpots—at which ripe moment the door opened to admit -Carter, Smythe, and Bender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pausing at the end of the centre table, Carter glanced -over the rows of faces which turned curiously up to him -as on the occasion that marked the beginnings of his fight -for mastery in the cook-house at the winter camp. Very -fittingly, setting and persona for this last act of a long -struggle were almost the same as the first. Hines and -the Cougar, to be sure, were gone over the Great Divide. -Strangers sat in place of Shinn and the handful that -returned to their farms after the log-drive. But here were -the tables, a-bristle with tinware; dim lanterns, dependent -from the low pole-roof; the faces, peering from Rembrandt -shadows, fiercely animal, pregnant with possibilities such -as have reddened the snows of many a forest camp. -Overlooking them now, at the climax of a year-long play, he -could not but thrill to the thought that whereas they -had opposed him at every turn, those iron </span><em class="italics">impresarios</em><span>, -the Fates, had left choice of endings with him, author of -the drama. It was his to crush or spare—to crush and -gain the cringing respect which they accorded to frost, -drought, pestilence, stern henchmen of the illimitable; to -spare and attain next place to a fair potato-crop in their -esteem; to manage them for their and his own good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To the latter end he bent his words, addressing them, -half jocularly, in their own argot. "Well, boys, we've -played our game to a finish, but before we throw away -the deck let's count tricks. I don't blame you for -striking. You have a right to sell your labor in the dearest -market as I have to buy mine in the cheapest. You -simply asked more than I felt able to pay, so while you -rested I took a jaunt down to the States to see how you -stood on the market. What did I find? First let us take -a look at your hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you hold? Harvest is half over and the -wheat farmers from the Portage to Brandon and down -to the Pipestone have hired their help at two dollars a -day. No betterment there. You can't break prairie in -the fall, so there's nothing at home except eating, and -the lumber-camps don't open up before the snows. On -the other hand, your stake in this line is as big as mine. -Unfinished, you are without the markets you have been -shouting for these years; finished, it lets in American -competition and trebles your values in land." Pausing, -he shook his head, and smiling, went on: "Looks as if -some one had dealt you a miserable hand, and I wonder -if it wouldn't pay you to shuffle, cut, and try another -deal? Now before I bring in new crews—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"New crews? Where kin you get them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All through the men had given close attention, and -after a single impatient glance at Michigan Red the faces -turned back to Carter, who ignored the interruption. -Leaning eagerly forward, they took the words from his -mouth as he ran on roughly outlining his own plans, -prospecting the coming years. Few of them, perhaps -none, were given to looking beyond the present, and the -vista to which he turned their dull eyes glimmered like -sunshine on the prairies. This was to be no casual job! -The province, ay, and the whole Northwest, required -branch roads; would be gridironed with them before the -finish! So what of construction in summer, logging in -winter, they could look for profitable employment the -round of the seasons!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So talk it over among yourselves," he finished, "and -those who feel that a fresh deal is in order can call round -at the office after supper."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long before that, nods and approving murmurs had -testified to his victory, and as the burr of hot tongues -followed them out through the open windows, Bender -exclaimed: "Whipped to a finish! But what about them -new crews?" Then catching Carter's grin, he burst out -in uproarious laughter. "What a bluff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a man in Minneapolis," Carter confirmed. "But -that wasn't what we went down for. So it didn't matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But will they believe it?" Smythe asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Believe it?" Bender took it upon himself to answer -it. "A frightened man will run from his shadow, an' -they're that badly scared 'twon't take them five minutes -to locate them crews."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gave them, indeed, too much time, for, as he said, -fear destroys perspective and the strikers were almost -ready to believe that Carter could conjure men from the -trackless forest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carrots Smith led the panic with a theory, even as -he had headed the run from Michigan's horse. "Said -he'd been prospectin' down in the States? Minneapolis, -I'll bet you, an' the place jes' rotten with whaleback -Swedes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sawyer's gang is through with the N.P.'s Devil's -Lake extension," another added. "I read it in the -paper Sunday. Old Sawyer ud on'y be too glad for a -chance to finish out the fall."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Other theories were not wanting, nor could Michigan Red -stem the rout. Just twenty minutes thereafter a sheepish -delegation presented itself at the office door and delivered -itself through the mouth of Bill of the Anderson ilk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've concluded," said Bill, "as 'twouldn't hardly -be right to leave you ditched."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Albeit Carter's eyes returned Hart's twinkle, he replied -in kind. "I'm real tickled to think that you won't -desert me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, with this bit of diplomatic comedy, ended not -only the strike, but also the bitter fight which he, like -every village Hampden, had had to wage against the -envious ignorance of his fellows. For a while, to be sure, -their stiff necks would balk at the homage secret -consciousness dictated as his meed. They would refuse it, -indeed, till the world outside sealed his success; -whereafter every man of them would proclaim himself as the -particular prophet who had discerned greatness in his -humble beginnings. But in the mean time they would -refrain from further hostilities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about that Red man?" Smythe said, as the -delegation made its jubilant way back to its fellows. -"You'll surely discharge </span><em class="italics">him</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Michigan Red?" Carter said. "Not if he wants to -stay. His team is worth any two in camp, and his teeth -are drawn for good. But he won't stay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a cinch," Bender echoed. "He's due in Winnipeg -to report his failure sometime in the next three days."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="fire"><span class="bold large">XXX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">FIRE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Dawn saw the strikers going about their chores -with a cheerful alacrity that was as gall to -Michigan Red, who chewed the bitter cud of unsuccessful -leadership as he sat drumming his heels on a block by -the cook-house door. He had come to the end of his -rope—rather, dangled there, an object of contemptuous -pity in the eyes of his fellows. Had he doubted the fact, -it was to be easily read in their studied avoidance; but -he knew that he had failed—in what? He could hardly -have answered the question himself; for whether or no -he had plotted in the monopoly's interest, the strike -was merely incidental to the persistent war he had waged -against Carter, to the dogged opposition which had root -in the turbulent anarchism of his nature. Sufficient -that though his weird face held its usual bleak calm, he -writhed, mentally, under defeat, while the few who -ventured within range of his tongue sensed the lava beneath -the crust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not with this crowd. I draw the color line," he -rasped, when Anderson inquired if he were not going -to work, while Carrots Smith drew a curse along with the -information, "It's me for a better job. I'm tired of -herding sheep." So now he was left strictly alone, -though speculative glances travelled often his way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's waiting for the boss," a teamster remarked to -his neighbor. "Say, I'd like to see 'em at grips!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather him nor me," the other said, expressing -general opinion. "The boss is a tough proposition. They -say he beat Shinn up so badly that he'll never be more 'n -half a man again. Red ain't no slouch, though. Bet -you I'd like to see it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, as tools had to be reissued and a hundred -details despatched, the men were all at work before -Carter could come to breakfast, so only Smythe and the -cook witnessed that meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a beautiful day. Already the heat fulfilled the -prediction of a torrid sunrise, and, like an egg in a pan, -the camp fried within the encircling spruce which, on -their part, seemed to lift over surrounding birch and -poplar as though tiptoeing for cooler air. The same -errand had brought the cook out from the bowels of his -own particular inferno, and as certain phases of the -encounter could not be set forth in choicer terms than -those in which he delivered himself to an interested -audience that evening, now let him speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was sitting in the doorway, that close to Red I -could have pulled his ear, when the boss kem along. -Stopping opposite, he looked down on Red with eyes -dark and steady as night. They're blue, you know, by -rights, but they seemed to darken to pure black, an' I -never felt him so tall before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Well, Red?' he says, quiet, like that; but Red's eyes -stayed down, though his lip lifted clear of his corner teeth -like you've seen a trapped coyote, and so the pair of 'em -remained for a full three minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Imagine them—the greenish face of the one reflecting -murderous passion, troubled as waves on shaken acid; -the other darkly silent, yet, for all his quiet, oppressing -both Smythe and the cook with the loom of imminent -death. So was fought out the silent duel of personalities—one -minute, two; at the third, sweat broke profusely -upon the teamster's face, and the cook breathed once -more. Burning with Cain's lust, his glance travelled -but once above the other's knee, to fall as quickly again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Red?" Smythe actually started -as Carter's voice broke on the quiet of the camp. -"Quitting? What for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it isn't </span><em class="italics">exactly</em><span> my business," he cheerfully -answered the teamster's growl. "If you will, you -will." Turning back after entering, he added: "Heading for -Winnipeg, I suppose? Then give my compliments to -Friend Buckle and tell him to please hand them higher up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he came out Michigan was still there, but -Carter passed without a glance, and led Smythe down the -right of way into the forest. Even then Michigan sat on. -It was, indeed, almost noon before he loafed over to the -horse lines, after refusing the cook's invitation to wait -for dinner. Without returning a word of thanks for the -grub-sack which the latter sent over by a cookee, he -hitched to his wagon and drove slowly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A week's rest had freshened the blacks so much that, -if given their heads, they would have covered half the -distance to Winnipeg that day. But he took a vicious -pleasure in balking their inclination. Jerking the bits, -which hinged on a cruel curb, he pulled them down to a -nervous, teetering walk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a while the trail paralleled the right of way, then -swung on a wide arc around a morass, and for an hour -thereafter ran alternately among sloughs, sand-hills, -muskegs, through a country indescribably desolate and -which teemed with savage life. Myriad frogs set his -ears singing with dismal, persistent croaking; a pole-cat -scuttled across the trail, poisoning the dank air. From -brazen skies a hawk shrieked a malediction upon his -head; his horses threw up their heads, snorting, as a lynx -screamed a long way off. Here, too, dark woods shut off -errant breezes and he fell a prey to a curse of sand-flies -that stung and envenomed his flesh. There was no -escape. They settled, by hundreds, on the hands that -wiped them off his face; stung his face as he slapped his -hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coming back, mad with pain and rage, from this détour, -his eyes drew to a trestle—longest, highest, most -expensive of Carter's works—and, reining in, he allowed -his glance to wander lustfully over the stout timbers -which his fancy wrapped in flame. A single match—but -reason urged that the embers would undoubtedly furnish -red lights for his hanging, and he drove on, hotter, -madder for the restraint. He was ripe for any mischief that -offered a running chance of escape, when, midway of the -afternoon, he came on wheel-tracks that swung at right -angles from the trail into a chain of sloughs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Red River cart," he muttered, noticing the wide -gauge; then, furiously slapping his thigh, "Carter's Cree, -by G—!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He meant the Indian who had brought in the venison -which formed the tidbit at Dorothy Chester's first meal -in camp. All through the summer he had come in with -deer-meat twice or thrice a week, but though Michigan -and other teamsters had searched for his tepee during -the idle days of the strike, no one had penetrated to the -woodland lake where his squaw—a young girl, handsome, -as Indian women go—was free from rude glances, safe -from insult or worse. Now the trail lay, plain as a -pike-road, under Michigan's nose; and, leaping down, he tied -his team to a tree and followed it along the sloughs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through a gully, patch of woodland, the tracks led -into a second long slough, and presently debouched on -the strand of a small lake, one of the thousands that gem -that black wilderness. Bird-haunted in spring, -lonesomeness now lay thick upon it. Uttering its weird cry, -a loon rose on swift wing, angling in its flight over the -tepee, whose bull's hide, raw, smoke-blacked, harmonized -with that savage setting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just then Michigan was in fettle to exact a vicarious -revenge. Early in summer Carter had nipped a disposition -on the part of his men to joke and make free with -the Indian, giving strict orders that he was to be -unmolested, coming or going. This girl who lived in his -protecting shadow would have fared ill at Michigan's hands. -But the tepee flaps were thrown wide, and though he -strained his eyes from a covert of tall reeds, he saw no -sign of her, without or within. Save the lipping of -waters, sough of a rising wind, no sound broke the -solitude that guarded this, the lair of primitive man. Only -those who have experienced its frightful loneliness can -know how terrible a northern solitude can be; how -awesome, oppressive. Some note of it caused the teamster -to speak aloud, heartening himself with sound of his voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll be back to-night, sure, for the ashes is banked -over the embers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gaining back to his team, he drove on a scant quarter-mile, -then turned into a slough parallel to those he had -just left, and which had its end in a wooded dell. Here -high banks would have effectually screened a fire, yet -he endured mosquitoes till dusk smothered his smudge. -Then tying his team in the thick of its reek, he cut across -the intervening bush and followed, as before, along the -slough chain till he saw a dim cloud quivering on the -blackness ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beneath this, smoke from the Cree's fire, presently -appeared a rich incandescence, and after worming the -last yards on the flat of his belly, Michigan peered from -thick sedge out at the Cree woman, who sat and suckled -her child by the fire that enriched the bronze of her -bosom with a blush from its glow. A free, wild thing, -her deep eyes now caressed her child, again searched the -fire's red mystery, giving back its flame as forest pools -reflect a hunter's flare; sombre and silent, eons of -savagery flickered in her glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From her the watcher's evil face turned to the Cree, -who was skinning a deer that hung by the hams from a -poplar crotch. The heavy, clammy odor of fresh blood -hung thick in the air, filled his nostrils as he lay, like -primitive man by the mouth of his enemy's cave, watching -the knife slip around the carcass. Savage could not -have been more wicked of intent. Again and again his -hand gripped his own knife, always to fall again at sight -of the rifle that leaned against the Red River cart, close -to the Indian's hand. And thus he waited, baleful glance -flickering between man and woman, till the deer was -dressed and loaded upon the cart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That modified without changing his purpose. "Going -to camp first thing in the morning," he thought, as he -crawled away. "Always goes alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Back once more with his team, he kicked the wet grass -from the smudge, and after eating ravenously of the -cook's provision by its flame, he spread his blankets and -lay down, head propped on his hand, back to his team. -He did not sleep; simply stared into the fire, or listened -to the varied voices of the night. Now there would -be a sighing, breathing among the trees, creaking of -branches, soft rustlings. Then the night would talk -loudly on a hush as of death—a loon laughed at the owl's -solemn questioning, a fox barked among the sand-hills; -the boom of a bittern came in from some dark lake; he -heard the lynx scream again, loudly, shrilly, as a -tortured child. Then the wind again, or a greater hush in -which he heard only the crackling of his fire as he -replenished its dying flame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On these occasions a long trail of sparks would fly -upward, and one, a tiny ember, at last wrought a strange -thing. Passing over and behind him, it nested in the -frazzle of tow at the knot of the stallion's frayed halter; -where it smoked and glowed, growing larger, brighter. -Lowering his ugly head, the beast sniffed at the strange -red flower, then backed away as it burst into a bouquet -of flame under his coaxing breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stan' still!" Michigan growled, without, however, -looking around.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stallion stood—till the end of the burned rope -dropped to the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Even then some time elapsed before he realized that -he was free; but when he did—he turned white, wicked -eyes on the resting man. Was that short worm the fiend -that had ruled him? He stepped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stan' still!" Michigan growled again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The familiar voice gave the stallion pause—a moment. -For, out of the tail of his eye, Michigan presently saw and -became cognizant of a most curious thing—of a shadow, -huge, black, upreared above himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uttering a hoarse cry, he tried to rise—too late.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So, in the midst of his turbulence, passed Michigan -Red, but the evil that he had done mightily all the days -of his life followed him into death, for the pounding hoofs -spread embers of his fire over a leafy carpet, where the -night wind found them. Leaping under its breath, small -flames writhed tortuously across the glade to the thing -that had been a man—touched and tasted its clothing -with delicate lickings, then flashed up and sprang from -the smouldering cinder into thick scrub, and so ran with -incredible swiftness through the forest. Crouched, like -a runner, at first, close to the ground, it suddenly -straightened and bounded high over a patch of dry poplar burned -by a former fire, cowered again, to crawl through thick -green spruce, and so stole softly on, as though to catch -the Cree in his sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As well try to singe a weasel. Already the Cree was -urging his ragged pony, with squaw and papoose, towards -Carter's camp, and, balked there, the fire swung with the -veering wind into poplar woods, and flamed on, a roaring, -ebullient tide, overtopping the tallest trees. Under its -effulgence, black lakes and sullen tarns flashed out of -thick night with scared deer, belly-deep in the water. -Huge owls went flapping through the smoke, leading the -ducks, geese, vagrant flocks of the night, leaving hawks -and other day birds to circle, shrieking, ere they whizzed -down to a fiery death. Gaining strength from its own -draught and the freshening wind, it flowed, at an angle, -over the railroad and poured down both sides, licking up -bridges, trestles, culverts, leaving the hot rails squirming -like scorched snakes in empty space; and so, about -midnight, roared on to the great trestle at which Michigan -had paused that afternoon, and where Carter had lined -up his men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Roused by the Cree from a dream of Helen to a nightmare -of flaming skies, Carter first sent out a gang under -command of Hart and Smythe to back-fire around the -camp, then loaded the remaining crews on flat-cars and -raced the fire down to the trestle. Bender, who was with -him in the engine-cab, leaned to his ear as the train pulled -out of the cut.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Michigan Red?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Looks it." Nodding, Carter turned to watch the -rails which gleamed under the sky-glow, running like -scarlet lines on black ribbon between dark, serried ranks -of spruce. "Lucky it is coming at an angle," he said, -as the engine thundered over the first bridge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bender raised his big shoulders. "If the wind -don't shift? But it generally does about this time o' -night. If she slips to the east—p-s-st! a puff of steam, -a crackle, an' we're gone up like flies in a baker's oven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter returned his shrug. "As good a way as any." He -added, grimly smiling: "And very fit. Give us a -chance to get acclimated. But with luck we ought to -be able to wet her down and pull out south. Without -it we can lie down in the creek."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I like mine wet," Bender grinned. "Drowning ain't -exactly comfortable, but if there's to be any preference -I'll take it." And in the face of danger and disaster, -Carter smiled again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Starting out, it had seemed a toss-up between them -and the fire, but the train rolled over the trestle and drew -up in a cut on the southerly side, a quarter-hour to the -good. The creek ran under the northerly end, with a -short approach to the bank, the bulk of the trestle -leading over a quarter-mile of morass to firm ground; so -Carter, with Bender, Carrots Smith, and other -half-dozen, dropped buckets from the bridge to the stream, -thirty feet below, and passed them to the men who were -strung along the plates. Dipping, drawing, dashing, -they worked furiously under the glare of the conflagration. -While still half a mile away, its heat set the trestle -steaming. At a quarter of a mile, the furious draught -rained embers large as a man's hand upon the men, who -turned their faces away from the blistering heat. -Casting uneasy glances over humped shoulders, they began -to increase their distances, edging along the south -approach towards the train; but as they still maintained -communications, neither Carter nor Bender took notice -until they suddenly broke and ran.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here! Come back!" Bender's angry roar drowned -Carter's shout, and was lost, in turn, in a shrill whistling; -for the engineer had seen that which had been hid from -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God!" Carrots Smith cried; and Brady broke out -in whimpering prayer to the saints.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They stood, staring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As aforesaid, the fire was running south and westerly -at an acute angle to—in fact, almost paralleling the -railroad, with its extreme point farthest away but already -beyond the trestle. And now, veering swiftly southeast, -as Bender had feared, it swung at right angles and came -broadside on, a fiery tide high over the forest. To the -engineer it seemed that the wind lifted a mass of flame -and threw it bodily into a tangle of poplar-brake, red -willow, tall reeds, and sedge at the trestle's south end. -Dry, explosively inflammable from a summer's heat, it -touched off like a magazine, whirling skyward, a twisting -water-spout of flame, and as he jerked wildly on his -whistle he saw, as under the calcium of lurid melodrama, -men running like wingless flies along the wet, black -trestle. Careening, the column fell across them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only the few who were drawing with Carter escaped that -first explosive flame, and they gained only time to jump -as the main fire came hurdling over the trees. Falling, -Carter saw the stream, blood-red; jagged rocks rising -swiftly to meet him. A flash blinded his eyes, then—</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He rubbed them—that is, he winked, for he was far -too weak for such robust exercise. Yes, he winked it. -Was—could that be Helen's face bending low over him?</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="wherein-the-fates-substitute-a-change-of-bill"><span class="bold large">XXXI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WHEREIN THE FATES SUBSTITUTE A CHANGE OF BILL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Carter winked again. The face, however, did not -move. On the contrary, it lit up with sudden -delight and said smile helped his limping consciousness -forward to the idea of a dream. Yes, he was dreaming, -undoubtedly dreaming! No! Here memory took hold -and gave him back the flaming forest; wet rocks, rising -swiftly from red water, carried him back and left him -at the precise moment that he had struck a projecting -timber. He was falling! Involuntarily he stiffened, -expecting the shock ... but—ah! a clew! He was -dead—of the fall; and this? Must be heaven, or why -Helen? </span><em class="italics">If</em><span> t'other place? 'Twas not so bad as long as -she was there! Here his eye, through removal of the face, -touched the whitewashed ceiling, then wandered to blank -walls, a stand with medicine, covered glasses and spoons, -a linen-press, two chairs—he arrived at truth, a hospital! -Then, tired out by these strenuous mental exercises, his -eyes closed once more, to the ineffable relief of the -anxious watcher, and sleep, natural sleep, replaced the coma -that had held him these two days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a while Helen listened to his breathing, then, once -sure that he was really asleep, she tiptoed out to the -corridor and, under urge of relief, ran, fairly flew, with -her good news to the head doctor's office. For these -had been days of haggard waiting, as, for the matter of -that, had the last two weeks—Bender's battles, Carter's -triumph, the strike and forest fire had all been packed -into ten short days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beginning at the morning after she saw Carter at -dinner with the general manager, her joyful prayer had -gone with the jubilant roar of press and people at the -ceding of the crossing, and for several following days her -ears drank thirstily of the plaudits which were universal -in the hospital, on the street, at her boarding-house. -When, indeed, the topic cropped up at her first -operation, her fingers trembled so over a bandage that -Carruthers excused her, thinking the sight of blood had -turned her sick. At Jean Glaves's table she had to veil -the eager exultance of her eyes. The merchants who -were discussing competition in freight rates on the street -would have stared could they have heard the heart-cry -of the pretty nurse then passing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He did it! Yes, he is very clever—all that you say! -But you cannot have him, for he is mine! I'll lend him -to you—for a while! But I must have him back! He's -mine! mine! mine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From breathing the rare atmosphere of these exalted -heights, she had been precipitated by the strike into -bottom deeps of despair, and while agonizing therein -over additional rumors of Greer & Smythe's impending -failure, a morning paper came to her breakfast-table with -six-inch fire scareheads and a long tale of burns, bruises, -breakages that would have been longer but for the -softness of the morass. Carter, Bender, Brady, Carrots -Smith, all who were on the trestle, had been more or less -injured; and six bridges, five trestles, dozens of culverts -had gone up in smoke, a maleficent memorial to Michigan -Red, before the conflagration back-fired itself out among -labyrinthian lakes. But she paused not at the tale. -The injured were on the way to the hospital, and with -that piece of news clutched to her bosom she ran all the -way and broke, at one time, a rule that was as the law -of the Medes and Persians and the privacy of the head -doctor's study.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It will be easily seen that under such circumstances -her hysterical gaspings were not exactly informing, but a -man does not attain to headship of a hospital without -ability to extract truth from obscure premises—what else -is diagnosis?—and when, indicating the heading that -told of Carter's injuries, she gasped, "My husband!" the -Head grasped every detail of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must nurse him!" she pleaded. "Must! must!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man prodigiously dignified and very solemn behind -imposing glasses, the Head offered a stereotyped -objection; but it speaks for the feeling beneath his -dessicated exterior that he eventually set rules and regulations -at defiance, and outraged the discipline and morale -maintained by the Scotch head nurse, by appointing her, a -novitiate, to a capital case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But remember," he said. "Only if you can forget, -for the present, that he is your husband?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not believe she could, and had been astonished -by her quiet, almost mechanical performance of duty -during those two harrowing days. For he did not see her -leaning over the inanimate form when alone in the ward; -her strained watching, desperate listenings for the first -flutter of the returning spirit. Now he did see her -flushed delight, and muttered to himself as Carruthers, -the under surgeon, hastened with her to Carter's -bedside: "I suppose I ought to tell </span><em class="italics">him</em><span>! ... What's the use; -he'll hear soon enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So her secret was kept, and being uninformed of the -matrimonial complications in the case, the surgeon set -her delighted flutterings to professional interest and so -joined her felicitations. "'Twas touch and go," he -whispered. "Few could stand such a crack on the -head; must have made an omelet of his brains and his -fever was hot enough to fry it. But he'll pull through, -Mistress Morrill, and it is good that he will, for he's -a gran' character, fine and useful to the province."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>To indulge a pleasant conceit, that refreshing sleep may -be regarded as an intimation of the fates that comedy -was about to be substituted for impending tragedy upon -the boards; and the opening of Carter's eyes may very -well be considered as the rise of the curtain on the first, -and what would also have been the last, act had he been -in the enjoyment of his usual health and strength. -Lacking these, he could only take things as he found -them; chief over all, a demure nurse who administered -bitter draughts or took his pulse without sign of -recognition, compunction, or emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As her shapely back always hid the pencil when she -noted her observations on the chart, he could not see it -tremble; and how was he to know that the pulse-taking -was a sham? That she could feel only her own heart -thudding five thousand thuds to the minute? That -she had to guess the pulse by his temperature, which -cardinal crime of the nurse's calendar was partly -condoned, because if she </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> set down its vibrations -at the moments she held his hand, every doctor in -the hospital would have come running as to a lost -cause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ignorant of all this, he could only lie and watch her -moving about the ward, tantalizingly trim and pretty in -her nurse's dress; wait till some softening of her coldness -would justify the clean confession he ached to make. -Always the desire was with him and it waxed with the -days. But whether or no she discerned it lurking -behind his surreptitious glances, she afforded no -opportunity, and what can a man do against a fate that nips -every approach to the tender with nasty medicine or -chill phrase—"You are not to talk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe you like to give me that stuff," he growled -one day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doctor's orders," she severely replied, and her stony -face effectually repressed him while indicating that she -was not to be drawn from her vantage-ground by that -or a sudden remark—"It seems strange to see you in -that uniform."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't feel so to me," she coldly answered, adding, -with a spice of malice, "If it did I should get used to it, -for I expect to wear it for the next three years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He winced, and he did not see her smile as he gave her -his angry back—that or her droopings over his sleep an -hour thereafter. Alone in the quiet ward, bent so low -that her breath moved the hair on his temples, the -occasion vividly recalled the night, long ago, when she -had watched the moon etch with line and shadow the -promise of the future upon his face. It lay there now, -under her soft breath, the fulfilment. For two years -stress and struggle had tooled away every roughness and -left the accomplished promise, a man wrought by -circumstance to a great fineness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She also had changed—from a well-intentioned if -careless girl to a thoughtful woman. Contact with life in -the rough had rubbed the scales from her eyes and now -she saw clearly—many things, but all centring on one. -Outside people were declaiming against the vindictive -fate that had joined with the monopoly against this -their champion. That morning's papers had it that -Greer & Smythe were surely ruined. Yet she was -glad, overjoyed. Wealthy and honored, it would have -been difficult to the verge of impossibility for her to go -back to him. Always she would have felt that he might -doubt her motives. But now—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's time to take your medicine!" She sprang up as -he opened his eyes, wondering if he had felt her light -kiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had he, it would have been "curtain" there and then, -but as he did not the play went on, and its sequence -proves that, however honorable her intentions, she had -by no means relinquished her sex's unalienable right to -bring things about in its own illogical, tantalizing, -perversely charming way. Drooping over his sleep, -hoping that he would wake and catch her, she took care that -he should not—assumed a statuesque coldness at the -first quiver of his eyelids. Undoubtedly, and with her -sex's habitual unfairness, she scandalously abused her -position, exercising a tyranny that was as sweet to -herself as mortifying to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not do that—must do this—now go to -sleep." She hugged her power in place of him, and -when he achieved a successful revolt against her ban of -silence by appealing to the Head for permission to talk -with Smythe, she revenged herself by injecting a -personal interest into her dealings with Carruthers. It was -madness for him to see their heads close together over -his chart; the shining eyes she brought back from -whispered conferences in the hall. To be sure, it was all -about pills and plasters, but how was he to know that? -And it was in revenge for this shamelessly injurious -conduct that he arranged the scene which opens the second act.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the morning that he was promoted from spoon-feed -to the dignity of a tray, behold him! head bent, elbows -square with his ears, knife and fork grabbed at their -points, proving his indifference to her opinion by the -worst behavior that recent better practice permitted. -Alas! he was cast all through for a losing part. Displaying, -before his face, the irritating curiosity which a child -bestows on a feeding lion, she privately peeped from -behind the door-screen, gloated over the old familiar -spectacle. She caught him coming and going. Also -she turned a delighted ear when he dropped into the -homely settler speech; listened for the old locutions; but -called his bluff when he overdid the part by running -amuck of the grammar in a manner frightful to behold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I really don't see why you talk like that," she -remarked, patronizingly. "You speak quite well, almost -correctly, to Dr. Hammand and Mr. Smythe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes?" he retorted. "I didn't notice. Mebbe you'll -correct me if I side-step it again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the last case of that man was worse than the -first. "Thank you," she coldly answered. "I have -given up teaching school."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sniffed sarcastically. "Hum! Shouldn't have -known it. I always heard that the spanking habit stuck -through life. But don't give up. Remember the copybook -line, 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.'" But -she was going out of the door at the time and took -care that he should think she had not heard. "You -were speaking?" she inquired, coming back. And, of -course, it would not bear repetition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He fared just as illy when, next morning, Bender -hobbled into the ward with the aid of a crutch and cane. -Having been visited by the lady protagonist, the giant -was fully informed on the situation and so achieved a -sly wink behind his chief's sarcastic introductions. -"Mr. Bender—Mrs. Morrill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also her quiet answer was disconcerting. "We have -met before. Have you heard from Jenny lately, Mr. Bender?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now Bender had. A letter, small note, simple and -direct as Jenny herself, was even then burning his pocket, -and, blushing like a school-boy caught in the theft of -apples, he produced and read it. If he insisted—was -perfectly certain that he couldn't get well without -her—Jenny would!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Fraid I took a mean advantage," he confessed. -"Reg'lar cold-decked her. You see, a busted ankle -ain't much to spread on, so I hinted at complications. -She sure thinks I'm dyin,' an' when she comes she'll find -me hopping around."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well." Carter glanced stealthily at Helen. "She -has oceans of time to pay you. With any old luck you -are good for eighty-five, and it doesn't take a loving wife -that length of time to get even." For which insolence -he paid instantly and doubly—first by a nasty dose, -secondly by loss of Bender, who was summarily ejected -under pretext of its being the patient's hour for sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the war ran, and it did seem as though circumstance -never tired of impressing allies for Helen's cause. -Take Dorothy Chester, who called with Hart next day. -She, like Carruthers, could only take the situation at face -values, and so enthused over his luck in nurses; to all of -which—in Helen's absence—Carter subscribed till -Dorothy reached her climax.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Dr. Carruthers thinks so, too. Wouldn't it be -nice if they made a match of it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was astounded by the heat of his reply. "No! -A Scotch dromedary, suckled on predestination and -damnation of infants? Pretty husband he'd make!" But -she solved his vehemence for Hart's benefit on the -way home. "He's in love with her himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Between patient and doctor? What a mix-up!" Hart -laughed. "Odds are on the doctor if he's up to his -job. I'd hate to be Carter on the chance of an -overdose." For which flippancy his ears were well pulled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he said, things were undoubtedly a little tangled, -and if at first glance it would appear that Dorothy had -not assisted in the unravelling, closer scrutiny shows -that her remark helped at least to bring affairs to a head. -For the remainder of the day Carter was very thoughtful, -so preoccupied that he forgot to misbehave over his -supper-tray while, time and again, Helen caught him -surveying herself with a dark uneasiness. Puzzled, she -came back to the ward before leaving and stood at the -foot of his bed; but as yet his fever was confined to his -mind, and he replied that he was feeling quite well to her -question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "good-night" she wished him was not, however, -for him. Always darkness magnifies trouble, and through -its black lens he saw suspicions as facts. Tossing -restlessly, he heard the city clock chime the quarters, halves, -hours, until, at twelve, the night nurse's lantern revealed -him wide-eyed, staring, and knowing the efficacy of a -change of thought in producing sleep, she stayed for a chat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Correct enough in theory, the treatment proved about -as successful as would the application of a blister upon -a sore; for he bent the conversation to his own uses, -steering it by a circuitous route through the girl's own -experience to Helen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was liked in the hospital?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed she was! The night nurse was emphatic on -that, and went on to say that beauty such as Helen's was -not generally conducive of popularity. No, it wasn't -jealousy! The nurse tossed her head at his question. -Simply that pretty girls didn't have to be nice, so usually -left amiability to be assumed with a double chin; and -being a frank as well as a merry creature, she confessed -to an accession of that desirable quality every time she -saw her own nose in a glass. But Helen Morrill? She -was sweet as she was pretty!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Carruthers thought so, too?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well—the nurse would smile! And everybody in the -hospital was glad of it. They would make such a perfect -couple, an ideal match!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was as good as settled, then?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well—not given out yet, but every one knew! Her -lantern being on the floor, she could not see his face, and -he lay so quiet she thought he had fallen asleep, and was -tiptoeing away when he spoke again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But—</span><em class="italics">Mrs.</em><span> Morrill? She had been married before! -Her husband—dead?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If he wasn't he ought to be—the nurse was sure of that. -There was only one place for a man who could not live -with such a nice girl. And if he were not—divorce was -about as good in ridding one of the beast! With which -she picked up her lantern and left him in darkness and -despair. When she came next on her rounds she thought -him asleep, but he resumed his restless tossings as soon -as her back was turned. Dawn, however, betrayed him, -and sent her flying to the head doctor with his pulse -and temperature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was all right last night!" the latter exclaimed. -"Bring his chart down to the office." Studying it while -he mixed sedatives a little later, he said: "Awake at -midnight—hum! Talked, did he? What about? -Mrs. Morrill?" He snatched truth out of her as though it -had been an appendix. "Spoke of her and -Dr. Carruthers?—ah! ha! Well, give him this and send -Mrs. Morrill to me when she comes in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If short, the interview did not lack excitement when, -a couple of hours later, Helen opposed the freshness of -the morning to the Head's angry glare. Her delicate -colors, the eyes cleared by sleep and full of light, were -enough to have softened the heart of a Gorgon, but -served only to irritate him, who looked upon them as so -much material gone to waste.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you done?" he roared after her. "Look -at that!" And went on as her distressed eyes came back -from the chart: "You have done nothing—that's the -trouble. Why did I appoint you to this case? Because -of your vast experience? No, because I thought you -could administer something outside of medical practice. -And now he's dying—of jealousy. You have done it; -you must cure him." And taking her by the arm as -though she were a medicine-tray, he marched her to -Carter's ward, gave her a shake at the door like a -bottle that is to be "well shaken before taken," and thrust -her in with the parting admonition, "Now, do your duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here was an embarrassing position! Surely never -before had nurse such orders—to administer love, like -a dose, that, forsooth, to a patient who had already -turned his broad back on her charms. Now did she pay -toll of blushes for the perversity that had checked his -every overture. How should—how </span><em class="italics">could</em><span> she begin?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pleating and unpleating her apron, she stood at the -foot of his bed, the prettiest picture of perplexity -ever vouchsafed to gaunt, unshaven man. A week's -stubble did not improve his appearance any more than -his unnatural color, fixed, glazed eyes. But soon as a -timid glance gave her these—she was on her knees -beside him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Helen?" Before she could speak he -burst out in a sudden irruption of speech. "I'm so glad; -there's something I want to tell you." Then it came, in a -flood that washed away his natural reserve, the -confession—his remorse for his obstinacy, the sorrow that had -tamed his anger, his yearning through weary months for -an overture from her; his ignorance of the settler's -persecution, scorn of scandalous rumors; his attempts to -communicate with and find her; all, down to his -observation of her liking for Carruthers, finishing: "Through -all, my every thought has been of you. But now—I see. -It was a mistake, our marriage. It was wrong to -couple roughness with refinement. So if you wish—" Her -face was now buried in her arms, and he gently -touched the golden hair. "Last night I made up my -mind to bring no more misery into your life. But now -... that I see you ... it is difficult; ... but ... if you -wish—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He got no further, for speech is impossible when a soft -hand stoppers one's mouth. And while he was thus -effectually gagged, she took a mean advantage: told him -just what she thought of him. Such a stupid! A big -man, so very strong, but oh, </span><em class="italics">so</em><span> silly! Did he really -think that she—any girl—would have waited upon him -in such circumstances unless— Here she had to release -his mouth to wipe away the streaming tears, and his -question came out like an explosion:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She told him, or, rather, conveyed the information -in the orthodox way with lovers. This takes time, -and becoming suddenly alive to the fact that he was -sitting up in bed, she resumed her authority to make -him lie down. In view of his condition she was certainly -justified in using force to compel obedience; but was it -right, was it proper for her, a nurse duly accredited -to the case, to leave her arms about him? Well, she -did, and—scandalous predicament!—her golden head -was lying beside his on the pillow when the door opened -for the matron, Carruthers, and the Head on their -morning rounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—I declare! </span><em class="italics">Fine</em><span> goings on!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Helen's faint cry of dismay was drowned by the -matron's horrified exclamation, but Carter rose to the -situation. "Miss Craig, doctor—my wife." He could -not include Carruthers, who retired precipitously, and -was then just outside the door, swallowing hugely in -vain attempts to get what looked like a monstrous pill, -but was really his heart, back to its proper place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your what?" Having the general objections to -matrimony which come with prim old maidhood, the -matron almost screamed: "Good gracious, man! Couldn't -you have waited till you were sure you wouldn't need a -minister to bury you?" And she tossed a high head at -his answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, ma'am. We were that impatient we got married -two years ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There she slid one in on him with a sniff of disdain. -"Two years! Imph! One would never have thought -it. And just look at this ward! Doctors' rounds and -ward unswept, bed unmade; I doubt whether you've -had your medicine! I'll send up another nurse at once. -As for you, Mrs.—Carter"—she paused, flouncing out -of the door—"you are—"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She intended "discharged," but the head doctor -interposed twinkling glasses between Helen and destruction. -"She was merely giving treatment according to orders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How the matron stared! "Treatment? Orders? -Whose orders, pray?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her response as she bustled away, "Has every one -gone mad!" set them all smiling, and Carter's remark, -"A bit too long in the oven," eloquently described her -crustiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But if long study of people from interior views had -left the matron purblind as to outward signs, sympathies, -and emotions, she was not so short-sighted but -that she came to a full stop at the sight of Carruthers, -who stood, hands clinched, like a naughty boy, face to -the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You poor man!" But though her tone was gentle -as her touch on his shoulder, he threw her hand fiercely -away and strode off uttering an unmistakable "damn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Another lunatic!" she tartly commented, and was -confirmed in that flattering opinion when, instead of -pining in romantic fashion, he fell in love again and -married a sweet girl the following summer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Left thus alone in the case, the head doctor nodded -his satisfaction at the patient's decided improvement, -while his further instructions were short as -pleasant—"Same treatment, continued at intervals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These orders, be sure, were faithfully observed. -Indeed, he had scarcely passed out than—but the next -hour is their's, intrusion would be impertinent. -Sufficient that its confidences left each possessed of the -other's every thought and feeling throughout their -separation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes dancing, she broke a happy silence to say: -"You were dreadfully transparent. Did you really -think I couldn't see through your misbehavior?" Then -she told of how Dorothy had confided to her his appeal -to Hart and efforts at self-improvement. "But," she -added, with a sigh that was almost plaintive, "I wouldn't -have cared."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Also she told him of her proud espionage upon him at -the general manager's dinner; in return for which she -learned how he had waited at the forks of his own trail -that winter's night—waited while his ponies shivered in -the bitter wind until he picked hers and Elinor Leslie's -voices from the groan of passing runners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She remembered. "Oh, was that you? Why didn't -you come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would—at least I think I would have," he -corrected, "if you'd been alone. By-the-way, I saw her -in Minneapolis the other day. She was taking an order -from a fat Frenchman in a restaurant where Smythe and -I had turned in for dinner. Luckily her back was -turned, so we got out without her seeing me. But I -caught her profile and she looked dreadfully weak and -thin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A waitress?" Helen cried. "Oh, the poor thing! -Couldn't you have—" Pausing, she confirmed his -wisdom. "No, it was better she did not see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silence fell between them, he thinking of the -temptation in the warm gloaming, she busy with her own -memories. Helen's watch beat like a pulse in the quiet; -a house-fly rivalled the full boom of a bee as it battered -its head against the window-pane, a futile illustration of -Elinor Leslie's folly. Just so had she beaten at the -invisible barriers that held her back from free passion. -Now she lay, poor soul, bruised and beaten like a dying -moth, wings singed by a single touch of the unholy flame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But sadness could not hold them. Smiling, Helen -suddenly relieved herself of the astonishing remark: -"I am so glad you are ruined. Yes, I am." She nodded -firmly, misreading his comical surprise. "Now we can -go back to the farm—just you and I—be ever so happy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" He listened with huge enjoyment to her -explanation, then said, with mock concern, "It would -be fine, and I'm that sorry to disappoint you, but—who -said I was ruined?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, everybody—the papers said this morning that—what -is that funny name? Yes, Mr. Brass Bowels—that -he had bought up enough of your liabilities to snow -you under."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They did, did they? Well—they have another -guess coming."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't you ruined?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But though he laughed at her naïve distress, he -refused to say more, laughingly assuring her that she -would not be long in suspense.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nor had she long to wait. For as she was giving him -his medicine the following afternoon, he bobbed up under -her hand as though set on wire springs to the detriment -of the snowy quilt, which absorbed the dose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A whistle, deep-toned, fully two octaves below the -shrill hoot of the monopoly's locomotives, thrilled in the -distance. Drawing nearer, its vibrant bass gave the -entire city pause—clerks waited, pens poised for a -stroke; lawyers dropped their briefs; store-keepers, -laborers, mechanics, the very Indians in the camps by -the river, stood on gaze; motion ceased as at the voice -of the falked siren; a hush fell in the streets, a silence -complete as that of some enchanted city.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It carried consternation into the offices of the monopoly, -that whistle. Sparks, the division superintendent, -dropped his pen and stared at his chief, who was giving -last orders for the demolition of Greer & Smythe before -he went back East. The latter's iron nerve, however, -vouchsafed only a breathing space to surprise, then he -continued in the same dry tones: "Previous instructions -are hereby cancelled. That's an American whistle, -Sparks—Jem Ball for a thousand. They've won out; -it's all over but the shouting." And as eager tumult -broke loose in the street, he added, "And there it goes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shouting? They poured into the streets—doctors, -lawyers, clerks, laborers; carpenters jumped from new -buildings, plumbers left their braziers burning while they -swelled the stream that poured out to see the first train, -an engine with Pullman and palace-car, pull in over the -new line.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shout? They did—and more. Your canny Canadian -is the deil at celebrating when his backslidings carry him -that way, and next morning many a worthy citizen -sweated in thinking back to the cause of his headache. -Ay, good church-members lugged flasks of old Scotch -from blameless-appearing pockets; the carpenter -exchanged news and drams with the millionaire. The -N.P. had bought the new road! No, only leased it! -No! no! they were merely to finance the enterprise, -market its bonds in return for reciprocal traffic -arrangements! There were other theories, all spun round a germ -of truth, but thence to the source.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the siren sounded the second time, Carter looked -at Bender, who sat opposite Helen, having dropped in -for a chat, and his remark carries back to the strike. -"Now you know why we went to Minneapolis. What -does it all mean?" His face lit up as he turned to Helen. -"It means cars, locomotives, rolling-stock; the use of -N.P. equipment till we can instal our own. That we -can rebuild the burned bridges this fall, and shove a -temporary line through to Silver Creek and the camps -in the Riding Mountains. It means that the Red -River Valley will send its wheat south to Duluth this -fall. It means—victory for us, competition for the -province."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was his hour, but Helen shared it—even when -Greer and Smythe ushered in the American railway-king. -Twin to the general manager in massive build -and strength of feature, he had come from a softer mould. -His eyes, mouth were gentler, more pleasant. In him -the high, sloping forehead—mark of the dreamer—was -qualified by the strong jaw, wide-spaced eyes of the man -of practical affairs. A glance told that here imagination -and constructive power went hand in hand. Fun -rippled and ran over innumerable fine facial lines, and he -laughed out loud when Helen made to withdraw, assuring -her that their conversation would not tax her sex's -supposed weakness in the matter of secrets as they were not -to talk business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We think too much of this man to bother him with -details," he said. "These gentlemen have attended to -everything, and all we require is his signature to a few -papers. Celebrations won't be in order till he's well -enough to run down to St. Paul. Then—well, you'd -better not let him come alone." So, talking and laughing -for a pleasant half-hour, he gave off his superabundant -energy until the ward was charged, then went away -leaving the patient stimulated to the verge of open -mutiny.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm as well as you." He defied the Head to his face -that evening. "Send up my clothes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In two weeks, if you are good!" the Head calmly -answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Two weeks</em><span>? I'll be head over heels in work by -then, and there is something I want to do first. I'll be -out of here in one." And, albeit a trifle chalky as to -complexion and wobbly of knee, he was. On the last -day—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But first the record of that week; and as Bender's bulk -overshadows all else, behold him, mid-week, hobbling into -the ward with Jenny trailing behind like a kitten in the -wake of the family house dog.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bender, if you please," he corrected Carter, -chuckling; and for once he permitted some one else to -do the blushing. Wherein he showed great taste, as -she did it right prettily, exhibiting, moreover, a much -superior article.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day, Dorothy, becomingly mortified because -the good news had come to her through her father out of -Smythe. "To hear of it in such a roundabout way!" -she declared. "You little traitor! and when I think of -your speculations about his wife! Positively I had -resolved never to forgive you, but—" Kisses, of course.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thereafter, Brady, Big Hans, Carrots Smith—all more -or less singed and nursing various breakages—ostensibly -to see the boss, really to take a look at his pretty wife, -whom, they decided, shamed the specifications.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, to everybody's astonishment—indeed, the -Head shadowed the man along the corridor as though -he were an anarchist with a bomb in his pocket—the -</span><em class="italics">General Manager</em><span>! brisk, steel-like, yet twinkling. -"Trounced us, didn't you?" he laughed. "Well, one -never can tell when one has made an end. Competition? -Perhaps, for a while; but wait till Jem Ball and I get a -bellyful of fighting. However, by that time you'll be -well cured of your desires for the public weal and be -ready to listen to reason. Oh yes, you will! We all -take 'em like chicken-pox or measles, but they are not -fatal—unless you get 'em late in life. I feel so sure of -your eventual recovery that I just dropped in to bury -the hatchet. Fifty years won't see the finish of our -plans, and whenever you feel a yearning for fresh -enterprises, just look me up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Therewith the gray cynic hurried away to plan and -scheme, upbuild, tear down, without slack or satiety of -enormous constructive appetite; to live in travail greater -than the labor of woman, and give birth ceaselessly to -innumerable works; to inundate the plains with seas of -wheat and carry bread to Europe's teeming millions; to -sow towns, villages, cities broadcast over the north, -make farms for countless thousands; to join Occident -and Orient with gleaming rails, clipper ships, to do evil -consciously all his days and work unconscious good, -crushing the individual for the weal of the race, and -caring nothing for either; to live feared and die respected, -leaving the world bigger and better than he found it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lastly, the cook, just down from the camp with news -of Michigan Red. Flying in front of the fire, the black -stallion had come in with the rat-tailed mare to be shot -as a murderer after the Cree had tracked down the Thing -that had been his master; and so, if there be aught in -Cree mythology, the soul of the fierce brute would fight -it out once more with the fiercer man in the place of the -teamsters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While beguiling the tedium, these tales and conversations -failed to exclude from Carter's ear a distant hammering -that attended the building of his station and -freight-sheds. Also he could hear the hoarse coughing of -locomotives going up and down his line. And as the -</span><em class="italics">materia medica</em><span> contains no tonics like happiness and -success, small wonder that, as aforesaid, he demanded -his clothes at the end of the week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Once you get hold of a fellow you are never satisfied -till you have gone all through his clock-work," he replied -to the Head's objections. "But though I sympathize -with your industry, you'll have to wait for another go -at mine. They are needed in my business."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>First—Helen with him, of course—he directed his -steps, or rather the wheels of a hack, to the new station -where the ring of saws, hammering, noise and bustle of -work, acted upon him like the draught of the elixir of -life, bringing color to his cheeks, stiffness to his knees, -sparkle to his eyes. Thence they drove for a conference -to Greer & Smythe's; whereafter nothing would suit -him but a long drive out to the prairies. It was a -strenuous beginning, but fresh air and sunshine are ever -potent. He gained color and strength under her anxious -eyes; seemed fresher when he dropped her at Jean Glaves's -house that evening than in the morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Throughout the happy day they had lived in the -present. But though he had made no plan for the -future, she had trusted, and her face lit up with flashing -intuition when he said good-night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mistress Morrill, you are to take the morning train -to Lone Tree."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the "something he wanted to do."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-trail-again"><span class="bold large">XXXII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE TRAIL AGAIN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Skipping that long if happy night, peep with dawn -into Helen's bedroom, and see her up and singing -small snatches of song that presently brought Jean -Glaves, herself the earliest of birds, from bed to assist -at the toilet. Should she wear this, that, or the other? -There was the usual doubt which beset a young lady who -wishes to look her best for occasion; but the result -that went forth from big Jean's hug? A vision of -healthy beauty that drew tentative smiles from a brace -of drummers and attracted the stealthy regard of the -entire station when she finally broke, like a burst of -sunlight, on the platform. Continuing the figure, the smile, -its crowning asset, faded like the afterglow when her -anxious eyes refused her the tall familiar figure; and -when the train pulled out without him, her disconsolate -expression filled the aforesaid drummers with manly -longings towards consolation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unpunctual? On such an occasion? And how silly -she would look at Lone Tree! Slightly offended at first, -she then grew alarmed. Perhaps he had suffered a -relapse, was ill, dying! Be sure that her terrors -compassed the possible and impossible during an hour's -journey, and not until she saw a man come dashing across -the tracks to the Lone Tree platform did she realize the -fulness of his inspiration. He had taken the freight out -the night before! If thinner, paler, he was very like -the young man who had come to meet her three years ago. -There, also, was the lone poplar that had christened the -station; the ramshackle town with its clapboard hotels, -false-fronted stores, grain-sheds, sitting in the midst of -the plains that, flat and infinitely yellow, ran with the -tracks over a boundless horizon. Lastly, there was Nels -and his bleached grin, holding Death and the Devil, -sleek, fat, and sinful as ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Carter's whispered greeting helped to keep her in the -past. "Is this Miss Morrill?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Carter, I believe?" she had just time for the -roguish answer, then their little comedy had to be laid -aside till they were alone on trail. For the doctor came -running from his office, the store-keeper plunged madly -across tracks, Hooper, the agent, yelled, "Well, I swan!" -and jumped to shake hands, while from a grain-shed -emerged Jimmy Glaves, who had taken a lift in with Nels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wasn't she glad to see them? Yet a deeper happiness -enveloped her when, looking back, she again saw Lone -Tree, shrunken in the distance, its grain-sheds looking -like red Noah's arks on a yellow carpet; when she heard -only the pole and harness jigging a merry accompaniment -to the beat of quick feet, whirring song of swift -wheels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was very like that first occasion. Though stiff -night frosts were now giving timely notice of winter's chill -approach, the clerk of the weather had made special -arrangements for a south wind; so it was warm as on -that far day. Birds, animals, scenery, too, all helped to -bring the happy past forward to the happy present, while -Death and the Devil, those wicked ones, fostered the -illusion by frequent boltings. Surely she remembered the -ridge where her first coyote had caused her to cling to -Carter, and earned a kiss by repetition of that shameful -performance and faithful mimicry of his accent. "He -shore looks hungry." Immediately thereafter they -plunged out from among scattered farms into the "Dry -Lands," but its yellow miles, generally a penance, flowed -unnoticed under the buck-board. They were both -astonished when, suddenly as before, they rattled through -a bluff and dropped over the edge of the valley upon -Father Francis at the mission door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing would suit but that they must dine with him -while Louis, the half-breed stableman, fed and watered -the ponies. But if the good priest's twinkle expressed -knowledge that another of his day's works was come to -fruitage, his quiet converse brought no jarring note into -their communings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Undisturbed, they began again at the ford and continued -while the Park Lands rolled in great billows under -the wheels. The Cree chimneys, Indian graveyards, -other well-remembered objects passed in pleasant -procession ere, coming to Flynn's, he looked at her. A -shake of the head confirmed his doubt. Another time! -So they swept on through vast, sun-washed spaces where -cattle wandered freely as the whispering winds under -flitting cloud-shadows, and so, about sundown, came to -their own place with but a single interruption.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Passing Danvers at their own forks, he grinned his -delight as he turned out to let them by and shouted after: -"Say! I heard from Leslie! He's doing well on the -Rand! Sends regards to both of you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While that bit of good news was still ringing in her -ears, the house flashed out under the eaves of the forest, -warm and bright under the setting sun. All was -unchanged—the lake, stained just now a ruby red, the -golden stubble fenced in by dark, environing woods. -Within all was neat and clean as Nels's racial passion for -soap and water could make it. So while he stabled the -tired ponies, she donned one of her old aprons, rolled -sleeves above dimpled elbows, and cooked supper; -rather a superfluous performance aside from the grave -pleasure he took in looking on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Afterwards they sat on the doorstep, she between his -knees, head pillowed against his breast, and looked -at the copper moon that hung in the trees across the -lake—watched it brighten to silver; listened to the -harmonies of the night, the loon's weird alto, the -bittern's bass, cry of a pivoting mallard, owl's solemn -choral, a wilder, freer movement than was ever chained -in a stave. Once a snuffle, soft-lapping, drifted in, and -he replied to her start, "Bear-drinking." Otherwise -they were silent up to the moment she arose, shivering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is getting colder. I think I'll go in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stayed a little longer, stretched luxuriously out on -the grass; was still there when, having made their bed, -she came to the door. A vivid memory gave her pause. -Just so had he looked—that night—dark, still, as the -marble effigy of some old Crusader, with the moonlight -quivering about him like an emanation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you coming, dear?" Perhaps the memory -tinged her tone. Anyway, he sprang up, arms extended, -and as she came running, he lifted her clear of the ground; -carried her in and closed the door.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Her shiver had warrant. 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