A BOLD SCHEME
One morning a week or two after his meeting with Beatrice, Harding drove
his rattling engine across the plowed land. His face was sooty, his
overalls were stained with grease, and now and then a shower of cinders
fell about his head. Behind him Devine stood in the midst of a
dust-cloud, regulating the bite of the harrows that tossed about the
hard, dry clods. It was good weather for preparing the seedbed, and the
men had been busy since sunrise, making the most of it. Spring comes
suddenly in the Northwest, the summer is hot but short, and the grain
must be sown early if it is to escape the autumn frost.
When they reached the edge of the breaking, Harding stopped the engine,
and, taking a spanner from a box, turned to look about. The blue sky was
flecked with fleecy clouds driving fast before the western breeze. The
grass had turned a vivid green, and was checkered by clusters of crimson
lilies. The ducks and geese had gone, but small birds of glossy black
plumage with yellow bars on their wings fluttered round the harrows.
"Looks promising," Harding said. "The season has begun well. That's
fortunate, for we have lots to do. I'd go on all night if there was a
moon."
"Then I'm glad there isn't," Devine replied; "I want some sleep. But
this jolting's surely rough on the machine. I wasn't sure that new
locomotive type would work. She's too heavy to bang across the furrows
with her boiler on board."
"She'll last until I get my money back, which is all I want. The
rope-haulage pattern has its drawbacks, but the machine we're using
won't be on the market long. They'll do away with furnace and boiler,
and drive by gasoline or oil. I'd thought of trying that, but they
haven't got the engine quite right yet."
"You look ahead," Devine commented.
"I have to; I must make this farm pay. Now if you'll clear the harrows,
I'll tighten these brasses up."
He set to work, but while he adjusted the loose bearing Devine announced
in a whisper:
"Here's the Colonel!"
Harding saw Mowbray riding toward them, and went on with his task.
Beatrice had no doubt told her mother about his proposal, and he could
imagine the Colonel's anger if he had heard of it. Pulling up his horse
near the harrows, Mowbray sat silent, watching Harding. Fastidiously
neat in dress, with long riding gloves and a spotless gray hat, he
formed a marked contrast to the big, greasy man sprinkled with soot from
the engine.
"I regret, Mr. Harding, that after the service you did my son, I should
come with a complaint when I visit you."
"We'll let the service go; I'll answer the complaint as far as I can."
"Very well. I was disagreeably surprised to learn that you have
persuaded my friends to take a course which the majority of our council
decided against, and to which it is well known that I object."
Harding felt relieved. Mowbray did not seem to know of what he had said
to Beatrice, and his grievance did not require very delicate handling.
Harding was too proud to conciliate him, and as he could expect nothing
but uncompromising opposition, he saw no necessity for forbearance.
"The majority was one, a casting vote," he said. "If you are referring
to my plowing for some of your people, I did not persuade them. They saw
the advantage of mechanical traction and asked me to bring the engine
over."
"The explanation doesn't take us far. It's obvious that they couldn't
have experimented without your help."
"I hardly think that's so. There are dealers in Winnipeg and Toronto who
would be glad to sell them the machines. If three or four combined, they
could keep an engine busy and the cost wouldn't be prohibitive."
"Our people are not mechanics," Mowbray said haughtily.
"I'm not sure that's a matter for congratulation," Harding answered with
a smile. "But I never drove a steam-plow until a few weeks ago, and
there seems to be no reason why your friends shouldn't learn. You don't
claim that they're less intelligent than I am."
"Your talents run in this direction," Mowbray retorted with a polished
sneer.
"In a way, that's fortunate. When you're farming for a profit, you want
to be able to do a little of everything. Some of the Allenwood boys are
pretty good horse-breakers, and you approve; why managing an engine
should be objectionable isn't very plain."
"It is not my intention to argue these matters with you."
"Then what is it you want me to do?"
"To be content with using these machines on your own land. I must ask
you to leave Allenwood alone."
"I'm afraid you ask too much," Harding replied. "I can't break off the
arrangements now without a loss to your friends and myself, and I see no
reason why I should do so."
"Do you consider it gentlemanly conduct to prompt men who acknowledge me
as their leader to thwart my wishes?"
"Hardly so. Where you have a clear right to forbid anything that might
be hurtful to the settlement, I'd be sorry to interfere."
Mowbray's eyes glinted.
"Do you presume to judge between my people and me?"
"Oh, no," Harding answered with good humor. "That's not my business; but
I reserve the right to do what's likely to pay me, and to make friends
with whom I please, whether they belong to Allenwood or not."
Mowbray was silent a moment, looking down at him with a frown.
"Then there's nothing more to be said. Your only standard seems to be
what is profitable."
Mowbray rode away, and Devine laughed.
"Guess the Colonel isn't used to back talk, Craig. If he wasn't quite so
high-toned, he'd go home and throw things about. What he wants is
somebody to stand right up to him. You'll have him plumb up against you
right along; where you look at a thing one way, he looks at it another.
It's clean impossible that you should agree."
"I'm afraid that's so," said Harding. "And now we'll make a start
again."
The ribbed wheels bit the clods, and the engine lurched clumsily across
the furrows, with the harrows clattering as they tore through the
tangled grass roots and scattered the dry soil. Harding was violently
shaken, and Devine half smothered by the dust that followed them across
the breaking. It was not a dainty task, and the machine was far from
picturesque, but they were doing better work than the finest horses at
Allenwood were capable of. The sun grew steadily hotter, the lower half
of Harding's body was scorched by the furnace, and the perspiration
dripped from his forehead upon his greasy overalls, but he held on until
noon, with the steam gradually going down. The boiler was of the
water-tube type and the water about Allenwood was alkaline.
"She must hold up until supper, and I'll try to wash her out afterward,"
he said.
"You were at it half last night," Devine objected.
"That's the penalty for using new tools. They have their tricks, and
you've got to learn them. I don't find you get much without taking
trouble."
"I believe you're fond of trouble," Devine answered, laughing.
They went home together, for Devine often dined with the Hardings. They
had just finished the meal of salt pork and fried potatoes when there
was a rattle of wheels. Hester was putting the dessert--hot cakes
soaked in molasses--and coffee on the table, but she went to the door.
"A stranger in a buggy!" she announced.
Harding was surprised to see the Winnipeg land-agent getting down, but
he greeted him hospitably.
"Come in and have some dinner," he invited.
Davies entered and bowed to Hester.
"No, thanks. As I didn't know where I'd be at noon, I brought some lunch
along. But if it won't trouble Miss Harding, I'll take some coffee."
He sat down and the men lighted their pipes; and Hester studied the
newcomer as she removed the plates. He was smartly dressed and had an
alert look, but while there was nothing particular in his appearance
that she could object to, she was not prepossessed in his favor. Davies
had already noticed that the room was of a type common to the prairie
homesteads. Its uncovered floor was, perhaps, cleaner than usual when
plowing was going on, and the square stove was brightly polished, but
the room contained no furniture that was not strictly needed. There was
nothing that suggested luxury; and comfort did not seem to be much
studied. On the other hand, he had noticed outside signs of bold
enterprise and a prosperity he had not expected to find. Davies was a
judge of such matters, and he saw that his host was a man of practical
ability.
"What brought you into our neighborhood?" Harding asked.
Davies smiled.
"I'm always looking for business, and I find it pays to keep an eye on
my customers. Some of them have a trick of lighting out when things go
wrong, and leaving a few rusty implements to settle their debts.
Financing small farmers isn't always profitable."
"They can't take their land away," Devine said. "I guess you don't often
lose much in the end."
"Land!" exclaimed Davies. "I've money locked up in holdings I can't
sell, and have to pay big taxes on."
"You'll sell them all right by and by, but of course you know that,"
Harding replied. He gave the land-agent a shrewd look. "You have a call
or two to make at Allenwood, and would rather get there in the
afternoon?"
"True! The boys might find it embarrassing if I showed up just now.
They're willing to do business with me, and when they're in Winnipeg
they'll take a cigar or play a game of pool; but asking me to lunch is a
different matter." He continued smiling, but Hester, who was watching
him closely, thought there was something sinister in his amusement as he
added: "They stick to the notions they brought from the Old Country, and
I don't know that they'll find them pay."
"I shouldn't imagine all the business you'd get at Allenwood would have
made a trip from Winnipeg worth while," Harding said.
"That's so," Davies agreed, as if eager to explain. "I'd a call in
Brandon, and wanted to look up some customers in the outlying
settlements. When I got so far, I thought I'd come on and see how this
country's opening up. I notice the boys are doing pretty well."
"You don't mean at Allenwood? You haven't been there yet."
"No; this is my first trip, and I expect it will be my last. Is there
much doing yonder?"
"The land's all right. They hauled out some fine wheat last fall.
Stock's better than the usual run, and they've the finest light horses
I've seen."
"That's more in their line than farming," Davies replied. "You wouldn't
call raising horses a business proposition just now?"
Hester thought the men were fencing, trying to learn something about
each other's real opinions. Craig looked careless, but Hester was not
deceived. She knew him well, and saw that he was thinking.
"Prices are certainly low; but it strikes me you had better keep out of
Colonel Mowbray's way," Harding said. "If he suspected that any of the
boys had dealings with you, he'd make trouble, and probably insist upon
paying you off."
Davies looked hard at him. He was not prepared to admit that he had lent
money at Allenwood, but he could not tell how much Harding knew.
"One seldom objects to being paid a debt. Has the Colonel much money to
spare?"
"I don't know; I can't claim to be a friend of his."
"Well, it doesn't matter, as I've nothing to do with him. Now that I'm
here, I'll say that I'd be glad to accommodate you and your partner if
you want to extend your operations or hold on for better prices at any
time. You're putting in a big crop."
"Thanks; I don't think we'll make a deal," Devine drawled. "We don't
farm for the benefit of another man. When I haul my wheat to the
elevators I want the money myself, and not to turn it over to somebody
else, who'll leave me a few pennies to go on with."
Davies took his leave soon afterward, and Devine and Harding went back
to the plow. They had some trouble in keeping steam, and after a little
the heavy engine sank into the soft soil as they crossed a hollow where
the melting snow had run. The ribbed wheels went in deeper as they
crushed down the boggy mold, and ground up the fence posts the men
thrust under them. Before long they were embedded to the axle, and
Harding turned off the steam.
"Bring the wagon and drop me off a spade as you pass," he said. "I'll
dig her out while you drive to the bluff and cut the biggest poplar logs
you can find."
When Devine hurried away he sat down and lighted his pipe. Until he got
the spade there was nothing to be done and much to think about. To begin
with, Davies' visit had turned his attention upon a matter that had
already occupied his thoughts, and proved it worth consideration. The
Allenwood homesteads were the best in the country, the settlement was
fortunately located, and its inhabitants were people of intelligence.
Their progress had been retarded by customs and opinions out of place on
the prairie, but they might go a long way if these were abandoned. They
were farming on the wrong lines, and wasting effort, but Harding did not
think this would continue. Already some among them were pressing for a
change. Harding was ready to work his big farm alone, but he looked to
Allenwood for help that would benefit all.
The matter, however, had a more important side. Although Beatrice had
refused him he did not despair; she had shown that she did not regard
him with complete indifference. It was not his personal character, but
his position and her father's hostility that stood in the way, and these
were obstacles that might be overcome. He could expect nothing but the
Colonel's stern opposition, and he must carefully arm himself for the
fight; he did not undervalue the power of his antagonist.
Devine returned and threw him down a spade, and for the next hour
Harding worked steadily, digging a trench to the buried wheels and
beating its bottom flat. When his comrade came back they lined it with
the logs he brought, and Harding started the engine. The machine shook
and rattled, straining and panting under a full head of steam, but the
wheels churned furiously in the soil and smashed the ends of the logs
they bit upon. One big piece shot out of the trench and narrowly missed
Devine, who fell among the harrows when he jumped. Harding stopped the
engine as his friend got up.
"This won't do," he said. "We'll cut a log into short billets."
They packed some, split into sections, under the wheels, and Harding
restarted the engine.
"Now," he said, "you can shove the rest in as she grinds them down."
The wheels spun, splintering the timber, rising a few inches and sinking
again, while the big machine shook and tilted in danger of falling over.
Harding, standing on the slippery plates, opened the throttle wide, and
after a while the front rose to a threatening height while the logs
groaned and cracked.
"Stand clear!" he cried. "She's climbing out!"
The engine straightened itself with a dangerous lurch, rolled forward,
gathering speed, and ran out on to firmer ground. They had no further
trouble, and when dusk settled down and the air grew sharp, Harding drew
the fire and blew the water out of the boiler.
"After all, we have done pretty good work to-day," he said. "I'll come
back and tend to those tubes as soon as she cools."
They went home together, and after supper was finished, they sat smoking
and talking in the kitchen. It was now sharply cold outside, but the
small room was warm and cheerful with the nickeled lamp lighted and a
fire in the polished stove.
"The mortgage man was trying to play you," Devine remarked. "He
certainly didn't learn much. Do you reckon he has been lending money to
the Allenwood boys?"
"I think it's very likely."
"Then, with their way of farming and wheat going down, they won't be
able to pay him off."
"No; and he doesn't want them to pay him off," Harding answered.
"You mean he wants their farms?"
"Yes; he'll probably get them, unless somebody interferes."
"Ah!" exclaimed Devine. "Who's going to interfere? ... Now _you_ have
been thinking of something all afternoon."
Harding smiled.
"It's possible I may see what I can do," he admitted.
"You're a daisy!" Devine exclaimed. "It wouldn't surprise me if you
thought of buying up the Canadian Pacific. All the same, I don't see
where you're going to get the money. What do you think, Hester?"
Hester laid down her sewing.
"Isn't it too big a thing, Craig? You have a great deal of land now,
and even if you get a good harvest, you'd hardly have money enough to
sow another crop and leave enough to carry you over a bad season."
Harding quietly lighted his pipe, and there was silence for a few
minutes. His sister and her fiance knew him well and had confidence in
his ability; he had so far made good, but the boldness of this last
scheme daunted them.
"Farming has two sides," he said presently. "You want to raise the best
and biggest crop you can; and then you want to handle your money well.
That's where many good farmers fail. Bank your surplus and you get
market interest, but nothing for your knowledge and experience. The
money ought to be put into new teams and the latest machines, and after
that into breaking new land. If you make a profit on two hundred acres,
you'll increase it by a third when you break a hundred acres more, not
to mention what you save by working on a larger scale. Well, I see what
could be done with a united Allenwood where every man worked jointly
with the rest, but the settlement needs a head."
"It has one. Colonel Mowbray is not likely to give up his place," Hester
answered.
"He may not be able to keep it. There's another claimant--this fellow
Davies, and he's not a fool. I can't tell you yet whether I'll make a
third. It wants thinking over."
The others did not reply. They agreed that the matter demanded careful
thought. After a short silence, Hester changed the subject.
"I saw Mrs. Broadwood to-day, and she told me that Miss Mowbray had
gone East for the summer. As she had spoken about staying at Allenwood
all the year, Mrs. Broadwood was surprised."
Harding betrayed his interest by an abrupt movement, yet he made no
answer. On the whole the news was encouraging. He would miss Beatrice,
but, on the other hand, it looked as if she had gone away to avoid him,
and she would not have done so had she been unmoved by what he said to
her. He regretted that he had driven her away; of course he might be
mistaken, but there was hope in the suspicion he entertained.
"Well," he said, after a minute or two, "I'll go along and fix that
boiler."