Chapter III

A Man of Two Countries

On the Sunday spent in Helena the doctor proposed to Danvers that they

give over politics and call at the Blairs. "They won't stand on

formalities, and we both need to get our minds out of this political

struggle. I'll be glad when I can go home to Fort Benton!"

"Charlie seems to be doing well in Helena," remarked Philip, as they

approached the house next Judge Latimer's.

"He's up, then down. He isn't much of a business man, and hasn't head

enough to keep in the swim. He worships that sister of his, and just now

he's doing pretty well. I fancy that she knows nothing of his financial

standing."

"I imagine Miss Blair knows more about Charlie's difficulties than

either you or he give her credit for. She sees more than she tells."

The callers found brother and sister on the wide porch, and after the

greetings and a half-hour of general conversation, Charlie Blair asked

the doctor if he would come inside and give a little advice on a private

matter.

"Good," cried Winifred. "For once I'm glad that Charlie can think of

nothing but business. Now I can talk to Mr. Danvers."

"See that you do!" commanded Philip. "Yesterday I went away feeling like

a garrulous dame; it is your turn to-day."

Winifred affected to reflect. "What shall be my theme--art, music,

literature or our mutual friends?"

"Tell me of yourself."

"As a subject of conversation, that would be soon exhausted. Women, you

know, are too idle to be good; too conventional to be bad."

"Indeed!" returned the cattleman, catching her mood. "I have known many

women of that description. Pardon me, but I had imagined you were a

different type."

"You say the nicest things! I feel that we are going to be very good

friends."

Danvers bowed. "Thank you. I think we are."

She returned his frank gaze, and settled herself comfortably for an

afternoon's enjoyment.

"Now talk!" she in turn commanded, with the sweeping imperialism she

sometimes manifested toward a chance companion.

"I refuse. It is your turn."

"How you like to put on the mask of silence! Do you bolt the door to

everyone but the doctor and Judge Latimer?"

"Thoughts are hard things to express, unless one forgets himself, and

they come spontaneously."

"Go ahead and forget yourself, then!"

"You are inexorable," laughing. "Your demand makes me think of an Indian

Council. Of course, you know that when they meet to discuss problems,

they sit silent for hours. The avowed purpose of conferring paralyzes

their tongues, apparently, as you have paralyzed mine. If I ever had an

idea I could not produce it now."

"The Quakers have a prettier custom. They sit in silence till the spirit

moves. I will be the spirit that moves you;" and so adroitly did she

continue that unconsciously the man spoke of more serious things--his

likings, his beliefs.

"Why did you become an American?" she asked at length, the question that

had often puzzled her.

"My mother was an American." His voice took a note of tenderness which

Winifred remembered long. "But when I left the service it was with no

thought of choosing this as my country. I had no desire to return to

England, however, and the chances for business seemed greater on this

side of the line."

The girl's deep eyes gazed directly into his with flattering intentness.

"And so the years slipped by until I found that my interests were all

here, and I could not leave, even if I had cared to. Isn't that true,

judge?" he remarked, as Arthur Latimer came across the lawn. "You wanted

to make a voter of me, for your own dark purposes----"

"Philip always hits the bull's-eye," admitted the judge, interrupting

with a menacing gesture of affection at the implication. "You would not

leave the State. That's just it. The most of us came into the Northwest,

as we thought, to make a fortune and go back East or South to enjoy it.

But whether we have made money or not, we discovered that we are here to

stay. The old ties in other communities are gone. Old friends are dead.

Old memories faded. We aren't all such enthusiasts as the doctor, who

lives at Fort Benton for sheer love of the place, but----"

"I know just how he feels," cried Winifred, quick to defend her old

friend. "I could go back there myself to live. We have a love-feast

every time we speak of the dear old town, and that's every time I see

him."

"I think," said Danvers, slowly, making sure of his words, "that I have

come to love Montana more than my native land, though that was certainly

very far from my feeling when I came back to Fort Benton as a civilian,

and asked for work. I told the man that I was an Englishman, but I made

a mistake. There was a long list of applicants ahead of

me--Americans--to whom preference would be given. I thanked the manager,

but from that day I determined to succeed without being forced into

citizenship. I did succeed, and of my own choice I became an American!"

"Words, words! What are you talking about?" the doctor asked, breezily,

as he appeared with Blair. "Let us into your charmed circle. I, for one,

promise to be silent. Any occasion gains dignity by having an audience,

and I'll promise not to be critical. I will consider your youth."

After a general laugh, the judge gave the trend of the conversation, and

the doctor quite forgot his promise. The discussion of good citizenship

became general, and presently Philip was appealed to for testimony on

the subject of foreigners becoming naturalized.

"I hardly think I can tell you much that you do not already know," he

said, "concerning Englishmen becoming American citizens. We must give

the inhabitants of every great European country the credit for believing

their own country to be the greatest. With the possible exception of

Russia and Turkey, I am inclined to the opinion that they think their

liberty is not infringed upon, any more than it should be; and they are,

I suppose, contented with their lot. John Bull has every reason to think

himself a favored being. He is proud of the institutions of his

country--royalty, aristocracy. The knight, the 'squire, the merchant,

manufacturer, skilled workman and laborer--each has his place. The

laborer, cap in hand, bows to his master. So, too, aristocracy bends the

knee to royalty--being taught to keep allotted rank in society, and to

defer to those above. What is more, all have a supreme regard for the

law itself, as well as for those who administer it."

Winifred listened. Her bright, upturned face was an incentive for

Danvers to continue.

"When we Englishmen come to this country," he said, "knowing but little

of the government, we care nothing for it. We generally come to better

our condition financially, not politically. When we see the actions of

political heelers at elections we are often astounded. We hear of Tweed,

of Tammany, and it is not surprising that we have a certain contempt for

American politics. If we watch very closely we see men elected to

office who are entirely incompetent, and we even have suspicions of

their honesty."

The girl laughed lightly.

"You choose to be very sarcastic," she commented. But Danvers had more

to say.

"As time goes on we watch events, comparing the government of this

country with that of our own. Little by little we are brought to feel

that these States are being fairly well governed, after all. In my own

case, when Judge Latimer asked me to take an active part in politics, I

hesitated. But I had cast my lot in Fort Benton, and it seemed wrong to

accept all that America had to give with no return from myself."

The Anglo-American looked around his circle of friends. Never before had

he expressed himself so fully. He could not understand how he had been

beguiled. But never before had he felt that a woman's brain would grasp

every reason adduced, and understand--that was it; he felt that he was

understood!

"Montana politics are like an Englishman's game--high. They smell to

heaven," said Charlie Blair, after the men had further discussed the

political situation.

"I don't believe that Montana is any worse than many other States,"

defended Winifred, quickly.

"We are building history," said the doctor, dreamily, "and history

repeats itself. As the powerful nobles of Greece and Rome dictated harsh

terms to the common people and ruined their nations, so it will be with

us. Machine politics, money and whiskey, millionaires and

monopolies--truly the outlook is depressing."

"You are not usually so pessimistic, doctor," reproached Winifred.

"Well"--Blair's contented philosophy was refreshing--"politicians seldom

get more than one-fourth their money's worth, when they use it

unlawfully. Three-quarters of it is wasted by giving it to hangers-on."

"Public men should be unhampered by demands for spoils."

"They invite the demands, Phil," replied the doctor, dryly. "If it were

not openly known that a man could get a position as a corporation

lawyer, or timekeeper in a big mine, or some other inducement, do you

think any would-be senator, for instance, would be troubled by

distributing 'spoils of office'?"

"He would not be troubled with superfluous votes, either," remarked the

judge, caustically.

"Oh," cried Winifred, with a vision of what might be, "if only the

candidates and the voters could be brought to see that public office is

a public trust; that the honor of election is enough!"

"That is the way it is in England," answered Danvers. "There, for

instance, a man is elected to a city council for his personal fitness

and ability to hold office. No questioning of his political

affiliations. No perquisites--no privileges. Only the honor of his

fellow citizens, which is enough. It is the same in other positions,

even in Parliament."

"Here comes Mrs. Latimer." Miss Blair rose and advanced to meet her

friend. "I see by your eyes, Eva," she said gaily, "that I have to

placate you for monopolizing all the men in sight."

Mrs. Latimer laughed, and the circle widened to admit her.

"You are talking of politics," she accused, lazily. "Either that or of

Fort Macleod."

"Madam," the doctor affected remorse, "we were talking of politics. But

when you burst upon our enchanted vision, as beautiful as when you

dazzled us sixteen----"

"Oh, don't!" shuddered Eva. "Why--why will men be so exact as to dates?

Why not say 'some years ago'?" She looked around rebelliously. "I will

not grow old, even if you, dear doctor, have silvery hair, and Arthur's

is growing thin, and Mr. Blair--well, I'll admit the years have dealt

kindly with Charlie and Mr. Danvers."

"And with you, dear," added her husband, loyally.

"How do you like my gown?" asked Eva, turning to Miss Blair as the men

began to talk of other subjects.

"It's lovely! You are so artistic! It must please your husband to have

you so perfectly gowned."

"Oh, Arthur--as for one's husband, I simply can't imagine dressing for

one man."

"I can," breathed the girl, her thoughts afield. But the sentiment was

lost upon Eva.

"If I lived nine miles from nowhere I would dress and walk among the cow

corrals or on the range for the cowboys--if there were no other men to

admire me!"

"You say such dreadful things," Winifred answered, gently, "but I know

you do not mean them."

"But I do!" wilfully.

"I have grown away from the East," the doctor was saying, when the

ladies again listened. "I want more room than the crowded cities can

give.

"'Room, room to turn 'round in,

To breathe and be free.'

"I fancy the Puritans wanted physical as well as religious freedom, if

the truth were known." He mused; then suddenly:

"How can you make one who has never experienced it _feel the West_?"

"You can't," laughed Latimer. "I tried once, but my companion looked

bored, and I stopped. 'Oh, go on,' he said, politely; '_you_ are

interested!'"

When the merriment had subsided, Eva exclaimed:

"I'm sick and tired of the West! I want to live in New York, Washington,

abroad--anywhere but Montana!"

"I wish that we might, dear," said the judge, patiently; "perhaps we can

some day."

"By the way," remarked Eva, her thoughts flying inconsequently to

another subject, "I've promised to read a paper on 'The Judiciary of

Montana' before our club to-morrow. Tell me all about it, Arthur, and

I'll write the essay this evening." She looked at the group in surprise.

What had she said to raise such shouts?

As soon as her husband could speak he wiped his eyes.

"It's a pretty big subject for me to discuss now," he said; "but I'll

write something. That will be better than confusing your mind with it.

These club-women," he went on indulgently, addressing the others, "are

so fervid--so much in earnest."

"Are you a club-woman, too?" the doctor asked Winifred, and Danvers

waited her reply.

"I used to be," dolefully. "But I am a renegade, or a degenerate. I was

allowed to join the classic circle of a Dante Club, and for two years

we (perhaps I'd better say I) agonized over the prescribed study--the

course was sent out by the university. But when the third year arrived I

wearied of well-doing. I was horrid, I know; but the subject was remote

as to time, and dead as to issues. I like live topics, real

issues--Montana politics, for instance."

"You might have joined the Current Events Club," reproached Mrs.

Latimer. "To be sure, it's sometimes hard to find topics for the next

meeting, but we get along. Club work broadens our minds and widens our

sphere," she concluded, with a pretty air of triumph.

"And when topics fail--to write about," put in Blair, "you can talk. You

ladies always find enough to talk about!"

"Why, Charlie Blair! You're just as horrid as you used to be!" responded

Eva, hotly.

"Didn't I hear something about one lady's stabbing to death another

lady's imported hat, just on account of too much talk at one of the club

meetings?" Blair was persistent.

"That story about the hat has been grossly exaggerated! It is nothing

but gossip."

"'Current Events,' too," murmured Charlie, properly deprecatory.

Not long afterwards Danvers made the first move toward breaking up the

group.

"Must you be going?" Winifred rose also. "I suppose I shall not see you

again before the Assembly meets. You'll be sure to be here then, as

senator from Chouteau."

"Thank you for your optimism. May I call?"

"Certainly. I should feel hurt if you didn't. We are friends of many

years' standing, you know."

Never before had he asked to call upon a lady. The importunity had

always been on the other side.

Late in the evening the doctor came to Danvers' room for the good-night

call; but the talk was wholly of Judge Latimer's interests.

"I'm afraid that Arthur will have a hard pull," regretted the old

friend, "but we will do all we can for him. I've had a telegram calling

me back to Fort Benton, and must leave on the midnight train."

Danvers walked to the little depot, a mile from the city proper, with

his friend, and after the train pulled out he again thought of Winifred.

As he passed, on his way back to town, the huge piles of loose rock that

the miners had left in their sluicing for gold in bygone days, his

thoughts followed the girl back into the long years since he had first

met her on the _Far West_--a child eager for sympathy. It was odd that

he had never seen her in all that time--the years when he had

unconsciously longed for friendship, and the sight of a woman's face--a

white face. The rings from his cigar melted around him, softening his

face until it took on the boyish fairness of youth.

[Illustration]

A Man of Two Countries · 第 3 / 16 章