CARRINGTON ASSERTS HIS AUTHORITY
A week or two passed, and then when riding to Lone Hollow on business
connected with the creamery scheme I chanced upon Jasper. I had seen very
little of him since Harry returned, and taxed him with it, saying: "Have
we frightened you away from Fairmead lately?"
"No," he answered, with some confusion. "I guess there's no place in the
Dominion where I should sooner go."
"Well, then, why don't you come?" I asked; and the big man hesitated
still, inspecting his boots, until, facing round toward me, he said: "I've
been figuring it mightn't be good for me. I'm a plain man with a liking
for straight talk, Ralph--so are you--and it might make things easier if I
were to tell you. It's Miss Aline that scared me."
I burst out laughing, but Jasper did not join; then I waited somewhat
astonished until he continued: "She's the flower of this prairie, and
she's got a mighty cute head of her own. I never could stand them foolish
women. So I came, and I would have come every day, until Harry chipped in,
and that set me thinking. I said, 'You stop there and consider, Jasper,
before it's too late, and you're done for.'"
I frowned at this, but Jasper added: "You don't get hold exactly--what I
meant was this: I'm a big rough farmer, knowing the ways of wheat and the
prairie, and knowing nothing else. She's wise, and good, and pretty, way
up as high as the blue heaven above me. Even if she'd take me--which,
being wise, she wouldn't--the deal wouldn't be fair to her. No; it
couldn't anyway be fair to her. Then I saw Harry with his clever talk and
pretty ways, and I said, 'That's the kind of man that must mate with her.
Go home to your plowing, Jasper, before it becomes harder, and you make a
most interesting fool of yourself.' So I went home, and I'm going to stop
there, Ralph Lorimer, until the right man comes along. Then--well, I'll
wish Miss Aline the happiness I could never have given her."
"You are a very good fellow, Jasper," I said, and pitied my old friend as
he departed ruefully. He had acted generously, and though I hardly fancy
Aline would have accepted him, in any case, I knew that she might have
chosen worse. There are qualities which count for more than the graces of
polish and education, especially in new lands, but Harry possessed these
equally, and, as Jasper had said, Aline and he had much more in common.
Then it also occurred to me that there was some excuse for Colonel
Carrington. The cases were almost parallel, and to use my friend's simile
Grace Carrington was also as high as the blue heavens above her accepted
lover. Still, if I had not the Ontario man's power of self-abnegation, and
had forgotten what was due to her, she had said with her own lips that she
could be happy with me, and I blessed her for it.
What transpired at Lone Hollow also provided food for thought. Lyle and
several of the supporters of the creamery scheme awaited me there.
"We have practically decided to accept your estimates," Lyle said, "but it
seems advisable to make one or two alterations, and we want you to ride
over with us to Green Mountain to-morrow and make a survey of a fresh site
that one of the others seems to think favorable. After we decide on a
place for the buildings, and a few other details, we'll ask you to attend
a meeting which we expect to hold at the Manor. The matter will have to be
discussed with Colonel Carrington."
"Then I should sooner you excuse me. I'm afraid that my presence might
prejudice the Colonel," I replied, and several of the others laughed.
"He's prejudiced already," said one. "Still, we are growing rather tired
of the Colonel's opposition to whatever he does not suggest himself, and
we mean to build the creamery. You will have to face your share of the
unpleasantness with the rest of us."
I almost regretted that I had furnished the estimates, but it was too late
and I could not very well draw back now; so, promising to attend, I
returned to Fairmead in a thoughtful mood. Aline bantered me about my
absent-mindedness, and desired to learn the cause of it, but as Harry was
there and it partly concerned Jasper's explanation I did not enlighten
her. Strange to say, I had never pictured Harry as a suitor for my sister,
but now I could see only advantages in the union for both of them, and,
what was perhaps as much to the purpose, advantages for me. I expected to
bring Grace to Fairmead sooner or later, and she and Aline were, I felt,
too much alike in one or two respects to agree.
On the following day I rode over to Green Mountain with Lyle and three or
four of his friends. We had a measuring chain with us as well as one or
two instruments that I had learned how to use when railroad building, and
it was afternoon when we got to work plotting out the alternative site for
the creamery that one of the others had considered more favorable on
account of its convenience to running water. The term Mountain is used
somewhat vaguely on the prairie, and Green Mountain could scarcely be
called a hill. It was a plateau of no great height dotted with a dense
growth of birches and seamed by ravines out of one of which a creek that
would supply the creamery with power came swirling.
We alighted on the birch bluff that stretched out some distance into the
prairie from the foot of the plateau, and spent an hour or so before we
decided that the new site was more favorable than the other. Then Lyle
turned to me.
"Hadn't we better run our line through and mark it off now that we're
here?" he suggested.
I agreed, and as one of the men had brought two or three saws and axes in
a wagon we set about it. The men from Carrington, however, were not very
proficient at the work and a good deal of the chopping fell to me. The
bush was rather thick, and I spent an hour in tolerably arduous labor
before our base line was clear. Then I sat down on a slender fallen birch
while Lyle and the rest went back to the wagon for some provisions they
had brought. It was evident that we could not get home for supper.
It was a still afternoon, and the sound of the creek rang across the
shadowy birches with an almost startling distinctness. That end of the
line had, however, nearly reached the verge of the prairie. Presently
another sound that rapidly grew louder reached my ears. It was the
rhythmic beat of approaching hoofs, and for no very definite reason it
brought me a trace of uneasiness. However, I sat still with my pipe in my
hand until the drumming of hoofs that grew very close stopped suddenly,
and then turning sharply I saw Colonel Carrington striding through the
bush. He stopped near my side, and nobody would have supposed from his
appearance that the sight of me or the fallen trees afforded him any
pleasure.
Three or four slender birches lay close at my feet, and here and there
another was stretched across the line I had driven. Carrington's face grew
hard, and a little portentous sparkle crept into his eyes as he looked at
them. Then he turned to me.
"Mr. Lorimer," he said, "will you be kind enough to explain why you are
cutting my timber without permission?"
"I have done it at Mr. Lyle's request, sir," I said.
Now I do not know how Carrington had heard of what was going on, but his
answer made it evident that he had.
"Ah, I had partly expected this. Will you tell Lyle that I want him at
once!"
It was not a request but a command flung at me with a curt incisiveness
that brought the blood to my face, and I was never quite sure afterward
why I went. Still, it was usually difficult for even those who disliked
him most to disobey Colonel Carrington. In any case, I found Lyle and the
others, and came back with them outside the bluff which was the easier
way. Carrington, however, had evidently grown impatient, and I saw Lyle's
lips set tight when he and three or four of the younger men who I heard
afterward were rather indebted to the Colonel rode out from the shadow of
the bluff. One of my companions smiled expressively, but nothing was said
until Carrington drew bridle a few yards away. He sat impassively still
with one hand on his hip and a handful of young lads behind him, and there
was silence for a few moments while the two parties looked at each other.
It was not exactly my quarrel, but I could feel the tension.
Lyle stood close beside me quietly resolute, but one or two of his
comrades looked half-ashamed and as though they wished themselves anywhere
else, while the lads who rode with Carrington were manifestly uneasy.
Still, the grim, erect figure sitting almost statuesque on the splendid
horse dominated the picture. At length Carrington indicated me with a
glance which, though I was ashamed of the fact afterward, made me wince.
"This man tells me that it is by your authority he is cutting down my
timber," he said.
"He is quite correct in that, sir," answered Lyle.
"Ah," said Carrington, and his voice was very sharp, "you did not consider
it necessary to ask my sanction?"
Lyle looked at his companions, and it was evident that they realized that
the time for decisive action had come. The Colonel clearly meant to assert
his authority, and I fancied that he would not hesitate to overstep it if
this appeared advisable. He had, however, ridden them on the curb too
long, and his followers' patience was almost at an end. Still, it requires
a good deal of courage suddenly to fling off a yoke to which one has grown
accustomed, and I sometimes think that if Carrington had been a trifle
less imperious and Lyle had not stood fast then his companions once more
would have deferred to their ruler and the revolt would never have been
made. Perhaps Lyle recognized this for his answer seemed intended to force
the matter to an issue.
"We were afraid it would be withheld, sir," he said.
Carrington understood him, for I saw the blood creep into his face. "So
you decided to dispense with it?"
"I should have preferred to put it another way, but it amounts to that,"
said Lyle, and there was a murmur of concurrence from the rest which
showed that their blood was up.
"Then you may understand that it is refused once for all," said
Carrington. "I will not have another birch felled on Green Mountain. Now
that you know my views there is an end of it."
He was wrong in this. The end which I think must have proved very
different from what he could have expected had not yet come. He had taken
the wrong way, for those whom he addressed were like himself mettlesome
Englishmen of the ruling caste, and while they had long paid him due
respect they were not to be trampled on. They stood fast, and losing his
temper he turned to them in a sudden outbreak of fury.
"Why don't you go?" he thundered, and pointed to the saws and axes. "Take
those--things along with you."
None of them moved except Lyle who stepped forward a pace or two.
"There is a little more to be said, sir. You have refused your sanction,
but bearing in mind a clause or two in the charter of the settlement I'm
not quite sure it's necessary. In one sense Green Mountain is not exactly
yours."
"Not mine!" and Carrington stared at him in incredulous astonishment. Then
he seemed to recover himself and smiled in an unpleasant fashion. "Ah," he
said, "you have been reading the charter, but there are several points
that evidently you have missed. For one thing, it vests practically
complete authority in me, and my decision as to any changes or the
disposal of any of the Carrington land can only be questioned by a
three-fourths majority of a general assembly. I have not heard that you
have submitted the matter to such a meeting."
"I have not done so, sir," answered Lyle.
There was, I thought, still a faint chance of a compromise, but Carrington
flung it away.
"Then," he said, "I choose to exert my authority, and I think that I have
already told you to leave Green Mountain."
Lyle apparently recognized that the Colonel had the best of it on what one
might call a point of law, but the way the latter used the word "told"
would, I think, have stirred most men to resistance. It was far more
expressive than if he had said commanded. Lyle stood quite still a moment
or two looking at the Colonel with wrinkled brows.
"If you will listen to me for a few minutes, sir," he said at length.
"No!" interrupted Carrington. "It would be a waste of time. You know my
views. There is nothing more to be said."
Then he committed the crowning act of folly as tightening his grasp on his
bridle he turned to the lads behind him.
"Drive them off!" he said.
The half-contemptuous command was almost insufferably galling. Carrington
might have been dealing with mutinous dusky troopers instead of free
Englishmen who farmed their own land, and the lads who had at first
appeared disposed to side with him hesitated. He swung around in the
saddle and looked at them.
"Must I speak twice?" he asked.
He turned again raising the heavy riding crop he carried, and I expected
to see the big horse driven straight at Lyle, but one of the lads seized
his leader's bridle just in time.
"Hold on, sir," he cried, and then while the big horse plunged he flung a
few words at my companion.
"Don't be a fool, Raymond. Get out of this--now!" he cried.
Lyle's face was darkly flushed, and it appeared to cost him an effort to
hold himself in hand.
"We're going, sir," he said. "Loose his bridle, Charley."
The lad did as he was bidden, and Lyle motioned us to withdraw, after
which he once more addressed Carrington.
"You have refused us permission to touch this timber, and I suppose we
must yield to your wishes in this respect," he said. "I'm afraid it's more
than likely, too, that you will object to our putting up the buildings we
have in mind anywhere about Carrington?"
"Your surmises are perfectly correct," replied the Colonel.
"Well," said Lyle, "according to the charter we can overrule your
objections by a three-fourths majority, and I have to give you notice that
I'm going to call a meeting on Thursday next to consider the matter. We
have generally met at the Manor to discuss anything of interest."
Carrington who appeared to have recovered his composure raised his hand in
sign of dismissal.
"Any time you wish in the evening--say six o'clock," he said.
We turned away and left him, but it seemed to me from his manner that he
would not have agreed to the meeting so readily had he not been certain
that it would cost him very little trouble to humiliate the men who called
it. Lyle appeared very thoughtful as we rode away.
"I'm sorry all this has happened, but it was bound to come," he said to
one of his companions. "I may not have been particularly tactful, but,
after all, unless I'd given way altogether I don't see that I could have
handled the matter in any very different way."
The man who rode beside him laughed somewhat ruefully. "No," he admitted,
"you simply can't discuss a point with the Colonel. I'm rather afraid the
thing's going to hurt a good many of us, and it may result in breaking up
the settlement, but the fat's in the fire now, and we must stand fast." He
broke off for a moment with a sigh. "If he only weren't so sickeningly
obstinate! It's an abominably unpleasant situation."
I could understand how the speaker shrank from the task in front of him.
For years he and the others had rendered their leader unquestioning
obedience, and the Colonel hitherto had ruled the settlement more or less
in accordance with their wishes, though I fancy that this was due to the
fact that their views had generally coincided and not to any willingness
to defer to them. It was, perhaps, not unnatural that most of them should
look coldly on innovations and hold by traditions, for Englishmen are
proverbially averse to change. Still, they could recognize when a change
was absolutely necessary, and setting aside their predilections and
prejudices insist on it. I, however, had less of the latter, since my
status was not theirs, and it seemed to me that the man who would be most
hurt was Colonel Carrington.
There was no doubt that he had the gift of command. Some men are
unmistakably endued with it, and as a rule everybody defers to them even
when they do not use it wisely. They come to regard it as their right, and
by presuming on the good-nature or supineness of those with whom they come
into contact, until at length the exception to the rule appears. Then
being boldly faced they prove to be very much like other men. The air of
authority disappears, and everybody wonders why he allowed himself to be
overawed so long.
Still, I sympathized with Lyle who rode slackly, as it were, gazing
straight in front of him with thoughtful eyes. There was no doubt that
what he meant to do was repugnant to him, especially as the Colonel was a
distant kinsman of his. He was a quiet, honest, good-humored Englishman,
but men of that kind now and then prove very grim adversaries when they
are pushed too hard, and they stand for what they consider the interest of
their fellows. Nothing further was said until we reached the spot where
the trail to Fairmead branched off, and then Lyle turned to me.
"I'll expect you at the Manor on Thursday," he said.
Then they rode on to Carrington, and I turned off toward Fairmead.