ADVOCATES OF TEMPERANCE
It was a month later, and we had settled down to our new task, when Lee,
who had managed to make himself generally useful, took a wholly unexpected
step. Our camp stood beside the partly completed track, which after
climbing through the passes wound along the edge of a precipice into a
bowl-shaped hollow among the mountains. High above it on the one hand the
hillsides sloped up toward the snow, which now crept lower to meet them
every day. It was strewn with massy boulders and bare outcrops of rock,
while the pines which managed to find a foothold here and there glittered
with frost crystals every morning. Below, a wide blue lake filled half the
hollow, and shingled roofs peeped out among the cedars that spread their
rigid branches over its placid waters, while the roar of a frothing
torrent rose hoarsely from the forest behind. Beyond this, and walled off
by stupendous mountains from the outer world, lay an auriferous region,
and a wooden town whose inhabitants had long struggled for an existence,
hampered by the cost of bringing in stores and machinery by pack-horse
train.
Railroad-building in such a land is an arduous task, needing a bold
conception and a reckless execution, while no line is ever driven that is
not partly paid for with the adventurous legion's blood. Our share,
however, was one of the safest, for it consisted in hewing logs out of the
forest for framing the spidery trestles and snow-sheds, hauling sawn
lumber into position, and doing general teamster's work. Risks there were
of course--the rush of a charging boulder, or a sudden descent of shale,
while occasionally a partly grubbed out trunk came thundering down before
it was expected to. Comparatively few trained mechanics could be found
among all the men about us, and, as usual, the hardest part of the
struggle devolved upon the reckless free-lances--sailor-men deserters,
unfortunate prospectors, forest ranchers whose possessions were mortgaged
to the hilt, and others of the kind, who are always to the front when at
the risk of life and limb a new way for civilization is hewn through the
forests of the Pacific Slope.
One morning, when I rested my team a few moments, talking to Harry and the
surveyor after hauling a heavy log, Johnston came up chuckling, with a
strip of cedar bark on which a notice was written.
"We have an ardent reformer among our ranks, and, everything considered, I
admire his pluck," he said. "You'll notice you're all invited if you
listen to this--'A temperance meeting will be held outside the Magnolia
saloon to-night, when Fanny Marvin and Adam Lee will turn the flash-light
upon the evils of drink and gamblin'. Every sensible man is requested to
step along.'"
"I thought there was something brewing," said Harry. "Lee has lately
foregathered with certain sober-faced individuals from Ontario, and
they've been plotting mysteriously. Well, I suppose there will be trouble
over it; but who is this Marvin?"
"She's a rising religious reformer who has taken several towns on Puget
Sound by storm," said the surveyor, "and it has cost somebody considerable
to bring her here. That _protege_ of yours is clearly a crank, but he's
also more of a man than he looks, and, if it can be done unofficially, I'm
inclined to back him. No, I'm not a teetotaler, and as a rule we're a
sober people in Western Canada, but they're a tolerably hard crowd down
at Cedar, and if once the man who runs the Magnolia takes hold with his
tables we'll have chaos in this camp. I'm not prejudiced, but if they must
have excitement I'd sooner see the boys whooping round a temperance
meeting than a gaming bank."
"Are you going, Ralph?" asked Harry. "I'm not altogether fond of the man,
but in a measure we are responsible for him."
I did not answer at first as I looked down upon the roofs of Cedar
Crossing. The old trail, which would be useless presently, came winding
down through the passes into it, and I knew that while the average British
Columbian is a sturdy law-abiding citizen, a love of excitement
characterizes the miner, and after being driven out of the central town
site by an energetic reform committee, a few adventurers of both sexes and
indifferent morals had foregathered at Cedar Crossing, with the Magnolia
saloon as headquarters.
Then I said, "Yes, I'm going"; and, as he departed, the surveyor observed
dryly:
"I'd take along a few picked men with axes. They might come in handy."
Bright starlight shone coldly on the dim white peaks when Harry and I
stumbled among the boulders by Cedar Lake, in whose clear depths it lay
reflected with a silvery glitter. But it was warm down in the valley, and
the drowsy breath of cedars filled the air, until a reek of kerosene
replaced it, and presently a ruddy glare broke out among the giant trunks.
When we halted under the blinking torches and two petroleum cressets
outside the Magnolia, it seemed as if all the staff of the railroad had
gathered there.
"They're both here," said Harry, and I saw Lee standing beside a slender
figure in unbecoming dress among a group of men in blue shirts and
quaintly mended jackets; also that some planks had been laid across two
barrels close by.
"Don't crowd upon the lady!" said a voice. "Order! the circus is going to
begin; we're only waiting for the chairman. What's that? Ain't got no such
luxuries; well, he can take the barrel."
After this, to our astonishment, Johnston, neatly attired, stood aloft
upon an overturned barrel.
"I'm glad to see so many of you, boys," he said. "Now I'm not a teetotaler
myself, and this is the first time I've occupied such a platform; but
we're all open to conviction, and I want you to remember we've a lady here
who has traveled three hundred miles to talk to you. All we ask is that
you will give her and the old man a fair show."
He had struck the right note, for the British Columbian is a somewhat
chivalrous person, and there was silence, through which the jingle of a
piano in the saloon broke irritatingly, until Lee stood up.
"I'm a sinful man like the rest of you," he began in the more formal
English and high-pitched inflection I knew so well, though the effect was
diminished because some one broke in with assumed wonder, "You don't
say?"
"I've the same passions in me," continued the orator, unheeding, "and once
I came near murder, while for six long years I was a sodden slave to this
awful drink."
"Only awful when it's bad!" another voice said; and there was a cry, "He's
getting ahead nicely! 'Rah for the next President! Give him a show!"
"Sodden mind and body!" repeated Lee; "a-groveling on hands and knees in
the pit of iniquity, and when I came out it left me what you see--a broken
man who, if he'd saved his soul, was too late to save his body. That's
what you'll remember--no one can wallow without paying for it, and you're
strong men who were meant for better. It's all in the choice you
make--health, happiness, prosperity--a jump down a precipice into
eternity, or dying half-rotten in a Vancouver hospital."
"The old thing, but he's taking hold," said Harry when the speaker paused
a moment, and then a glow of light beat out while a tall figure stood in
the doorway of the saloon. The man's face was scornful beneath the costly
wide-brimmed hat; he wore a spotless white shirt instead of a blue one,
while--and this was an unusual sight--a heavy revolver was strapped about
his waist, and neatly polished boots reached to his knees. This I knew was
Hemlock Jim, of evil repute, who had set up a gaming table, and was
supposed to have purchased an interest in the Magnolia.
"Won't you come in, boys, instead of fooling 'round outside there in the
cold?" he asked derisively. "You can have as much water as you like, and
we won't charge you nothin' for the room."
I wondered what Johnston, who conferred with his companions, would do.
"I think we will," said the chairman. "Much obliged to you. File in
quietly, boys, and those who can't find room will sit on the veranda."
Harry chuckled. "This is distinctly a new line for our partner," he
commented, "and the whole trio have pluck enough. I fancy if the other
side try any tricks they'll find their match in Johnston."
Then, amid banter and laughter, the big bronzed men filed up the long bare
room, after which all eyes were turned toward the three who sat on a
little platform beside a piano. Facing them another group, who I fancied
meant mischief, lounged against the bar, looking on sardonically. Then the
proprietor, who wore a large diamond in his white shirt-front, came out.
"This yere discussin' temperance is thirsty work," he said, "and it might
improve the general harmony if before you begin in earnest you had a drink
with me. Ask them what they're shouting for, Jim; and, Jess, for once
you'll rustle round with the tray."
There was a jingle of glasses, and a damsel with very pink cheeks and
lemon-colored hair, who apparently presided over the piano, went round
with a tray. It was emptied several times, and I began to foresee that the
temperance demonstration would fail miserably, as it might have done but
for Johnston's ready wit and the opposite party's imprudence. Grinning
derisively, Hemlock Jim led the waitress straight up to the orators'
platform, and, with the revolver showing significantly as he bent forward,
he held out the tray saying:
"It will help the good feelin' if you have a drink with me."
This was a false step. A big man from the bush of Ontario, whose forebears
had probably been Scottish Covenanters, stretched his long limbs out in
front of Hemlock, while Johnston smiled as he answered:
"Not at present. Unfortunately I'm a little particular as to whom I drink
with. Boys, don't you think it would be fairer if you heard our guests
first, and then paid for your own refreshment afterward if they didn't
convince you?"
Hemlock Jim deliberately set down his tray, the Ontario bushman seemed
gathering himself together for some purpose, and there was an ominous
glitter in Johnston's eyes, while just as I expected the fray to begin,
the proprietor called out laughingly:
"Sit right down, Jim. Pass on them glasses, Jess. I guess they won't
refuse you."
It was diplomatic, but Johnston's hint of fairness went further, and in
spite of the frail beauty's smiles, a number of those who listened waved
the tray aside with the words "I pass!"
Then, when some one called out to ask what was the matter with the circus,
and whether the clown were lost, while others demanded "The lady!"
Johnston turned to Miss Marvin, and there was a hush as the slight girlish
figure--and she seemed very young--stood upright before us. She thrust
back the unlovely bonnet, and her thin face was flushed; but when,
clenching nervous fingers upon the dowdy gown, she raised a high clear
voice, every man in the assembly settled himself to listen. Perhaps it was
a chivalrous respect for her womanhood, or mere admiration for personal
courage, and she had most gallantly taken up the challenge; but I think
she also spoke with force and sincerity, for my own pulse quickened in
time to the rapid utterance. Then changing from the somewhat conventional
tirade, she leaned forward speaking very gently, and one could hear the
men breathe in the stillness, while, as far as I can remember, the plain
words ran:
"It's not only for you I'm pleading; there are the women, too--the
sweethearts, wives and daughters waiting at home for you. Just where and
how are they waiting? Shall I tell you? 'Way back up yonder tending the
cattle in the lonely ranch, where the timber wolves howl along ranges on
the moonlight nights; and I guess you know it's lonely up there in the
bush. Then I can see others sewing with heavy eyes and backs that are
aching in a Vancouver shack. You had no money to leave them, and they had
to do the best they could. Have they no use for the money you would spend
in liquor here--the women who never cried out when they let you go? Don't
heart-break and black, black solitude count anything with you? You're
building railroads, building up a great Dominion, but the waiting women
are doing their part, too. And I'm thinking of others still, gilt-edged
and dainty, 'way in the old country. I've seen a few. Where's the man from
an English college that used to feel himself better after they talked to
him? Is he here with the fire of bad whisky in him, betting against the
banker to win a smile from Jess of Caribou?"
This woman knew how to stir them, and there was an expressive murmur,
while some fidgeted. Then the proprietor beckoned across the room, and
Hemlock Jim spoke:
"This is only high-tone sentiment. Most of us aren't married, and don't
intend to. No, sir, we've no use for a missis rustling round with a
long-handled broom on the track of us, and I'm going to move an
amendment."
"You can't do it," said Johnston. "You brought us in of your own will, and
now you've got to hear us. This meeting is going on quietly to its
conclusion if I hold the chair. Sit down, sir."
"I'll be shot if I do!" said the other, and it became evident that trouble
was near, for a group of the disaffected commenced to sidle toward the
platform, calling on Caribou Jessy to give them a song.
But Johnston was equal to the occasion. "If you're wanting music we've
brought our own orchestra along. Mr. Harry Lorraine, the tenor, will
oblige you."
Harry promptly entered into the spirit of the thing, for he sat down
good-humoredly, and, though I forget what he sang, it was a ballad with a
catching refrain, which he rendered well, and hardly had the applause died
away when the girl commenced again, while Lee, who followed, made a strong
impression this time. Then, before the interest had slackened, Miss Marvin
held up a little book, smiling sweetly as she said:
"It was kind of you to listen so patiently, and now I'm asking a last
favor. Won't you all walk along and write your names down here?"
A number of the listeners did so, and when the rest refused jestingly,
Johnston got up.
"The meeting is over," he said, "but there's one thing yet to do--to pass
a vote of thanks to the proprietor for the use of his saloon. Then I
should like to ask him to lay out his best cigars on the bar for every one
to help himself."
There was acclamation, and the assembly would have dispersed peaceably but
that just as we went out Hemlock Jim, who had gathered the disaffected
round him, said to Johnston:
"I'm glad to see the last of you. Now sail out into perdition, and take
your shameless woman with you. But--I'm not particular--she's got to pay
tribute first."
He grasped the trembling girl's shoulder, dragged back the ample bonnet,
but the next moment I had him by the throat, and he went reeling sideways
among his comrades. Then, as by a signal the tumult began, for with a
crash of splintered glass the nearest lamp went out, and a rush was made
upon us. Something struck me heavily on the head; I saw Johnston stagger
under a heavy blow; but I held myself before the girl as we were hustled
through the doorway, and when a pistol-barrel glinted one of the railroad
men whirled aloft an axe. We were outside now, but the pistol blazed
before the blade came down, and a man beside me caught at a veranda pillar
with a cry just as the door banged to.
"It's Pete of the shovel gang!" somebody said. "It was Hemlock Jim who
shot him. Where's the man with the axe to chop one of these pillars for a
battering-ram? Roll round here, railroad builders!"
A roar of angry voices broke out, and it was evident that popular sympathy
was on the reformers' side, while my blood was up. Pete of the shovel
gang, a quiet, inoffensive man, sat limply on the veranda, with the blood
trickling from his shoulder, and there was the insult to the girl to be
avenged; while, if more were needed, somebody hurled opprobrious epithets
at us from an upper window. I wrenched the axe from its owner--and he
resisted stubbornly--whirled it round my shoulder, and there was another
roar when after a shower of splinters the stout post yielded. It was torn
loose from the rafters, swung backward by sinewy arms, and driven crashing
against the saloon door, one panel of which went in before it. Twice
again, while another pistol-shot rang out, we plied the ram, and then
followed it pell-mell across the threshold, where we went down in a heap
amid the wreckage of the door, though I had sense enough left to remove
Hemlock's smoking revolver which lay close by, just where he had dropped
it on the floor. He evidently had not expected this kind of attack and
suffered for his ignorance. We could not see him, but a breathless voice
implored somebody to "Give them blame deadbeats socks!" and there was
evidently need for prompt action, because the rest of our opponents had
entrenched themselves behind the bar, which was freely strengthened by
chairs and tables; also, as we picked ourselves up, an invisible man
behind the barricade called out in warning:
"Stop right there. Two of us have guns!"
"Will you come out, and give up Hemlock Jim?" asked Johnston, while half a
dozen men who had found strangely assorted weapons gathered alert and
eager behind him, a little in advance of the rest, and Lee panted among
them with the blood running down his face.
"If you want him you've got to lick us first!" was the answer. "We don't
back down on a partner. But I guess he's hardly worth the trouble, for
he's looking very sick--your blank battering-ram took him in the
stummick."
"One minute in which to change your mind!" said Johnston, holding up his
watch. "Bring along that log, boys, and get her on the swing;" and
tightening my grip on the axe I watched the heavy beam oscillate as our
partner called off the last few seconds.
"Fifty-four! fifty-five! fifty-six!--"
But he got no further. Swinging sideways from the waist, he was only just
in time, for once more a pistol flashed among the chairs; and when another
man loosed his hold Johnston roared, "Let her go!"
The head of the beam went forward; we followed it with a yell. There was a
crash of splintered redwood, and my axe clove a chair. Then shouting men
were scrambling over the remnants of the bar, while just what happened
during the next few moments I do not remember, except that there was a
great destruction of property, and presently I halted breathless, while
the leader of the vanquished, who were hemmed in a corner, raised his
hand.
"We're corralled, and give up," he said. "Here's Hemlock Jim--not much
good to any one by the look of him. What are you going to do with us?"
"Are those men badly hurt?" asked Johnston.
"Not much," some one answered. "Pete's drilled clean through the upper
arm; it missed the artery, and the ball just ripped my leg."
"Well, we'll settle about Jim afterward; it's surgical assistance he wants
first. As to the rest of you, he led you into this, and we'll let you go
on two conditions--you subscribe a dollar each to Miss Marvin's society
and sign the pledge."
There was a burst of laughter, in which even some of the vanquished joined
sheepishly; but as they filed past between a guard armed with shovels and
empty bottles Johnston saw that they filled their names into the book, and
duly handed each his ticket, while I regret to say that Harry's selection
was daringly appropriate, as with full musical honors he played them out.
"There's a hat at the door!" said Johnston, "you can put your dollars in.
You have spent an exciting evening, and must pay for your fun." And
presently that hat overflowed with money, while Lee, with his Ontario
stalwarts, did huge execution with a shovel among such bottles as remained
unwrecked behind the bar. We placed Hemlock Jim on a stretcher, groaning
distressfully, while our two wounded declared themselves fit to walk, and
before we marched off in triumph to the camp Johnston raised his hat as he
placed a heavy package of silver in Miss Marvin's hand.
"I've no doubt your organization can make a good use of this," he said.
"It's also a tribute to your own bravery. I'll leave you half a dozen men
who'll camp in the road opposite your lodgings, and see you safely back to
the main line to-morrow. They're most sober Calvinists, with convictions
of the Cromwellian kind, and I don't think any of our late disturbers will
care to interfere with them."
When we approached the tents, chanting weird songs of victory, the
surveyor met us, and in answer to his questions Johnston laughed.
"The temperance meeting was an unqualified success," he said. "We've
broken up all the bottles in the Magnolia saloon--Lee reveled among them
with a hammer. Then we made all the malcontents we could catch sign the
pledge, and you'll find the chief dissenter behind there on the
stretcher."
"Glad to hear it," remarked the surveyor, dryly. "Judging by your
appearance the proceedings must have been of the nature of an Irish
fair."
I remember that when we discussed the affair later Johnston said, "What
did I do it for? Well, perhaps from a sense of fairness, or because that
girl's courage got hold of me. Don't set up as a reformer--that's not me;
but I've a weakness for downright if blundering sincerity, and I fancied I
could indirectly help them a little."
The next morning we were astonished to find that Hemlock Jim had gone.
"Thought he was dyin' last night!" said the watcher, "and as that didn't
matter I went to sleep; woke up, and there wasn't a trace of him." This
was evidently true, and where he went to remained a mystery, for we heard
no more of Hemlock Jim, though there was a marked improvement in the
morals of Cedar Crossing, while, and this we hardly expected, some of
those who signed that pledge honestly kept it.