THE SOMASCO CONSOLIDATED
Alton left Vancouver by the Quebec express next day, found horses
waiting at the little station, and only waiting while fresh ones were
saddled at a lonely ranch, took the trail again before the first faint
light crept out of the east. He also spoke little with Seaforth during
the journey, and stared at the latter, who drew rein when the weary
horses plodded, steaming and bespattered all over, into the settlement.
"What are you stopping for?" he said.
Seaforth glanced at the wisp of blue smoke which hung about the pines
behind Horton's hotel. "It's rather more than twelve hours since I've
had a meal," he said. "Don't you ever get tired or hungry, Harry?"
Alton laughed. "Oh, yes; sometimes I do, but not usually when I'm
busy. Anyway, if the beasts hold out we'll be getting breakfast at
Somasco in two hours or so."
Seaforth groaned inwardly, but, knowing the futility of argument, shook
his bridle and rode on, lurching a little in his saddle as the tired
horse stumbled into mudholes and, brushed through dripping fern. By
and by, however, Alton swung himself down in front of a lonely
log-house with a big clearing behind it, where a man took their horses
without a word and signed them to enter.
Seaforth stretched his limbs wearily, and would have dropped into a
chair but that Alton stood erect until the man came back again, and
dusting two seats with his soft hat pointed to them with a gesture of
hospitality. His hair and beard were frosted, his face was lean and
brown, and there were many wrinkles about his eyes, but he held himself
very upright and pointed to the stove.
"Ye'll be in from Vancouver. I'll ready ye some pork and flapjacks?"
he said.
Alton shook his head. "Don't worry, I can't wait," he said.
"Ye are very welcome," said the other.
"Of course!" said Alton simply; "still, I can't stop. I'm here to talk
business, Callender."
Seaforth noticed that in face of the typical absence of protest or
compliment there was nothing the most critical could find fault with in
the invitation or the refusal. The old man was dressed in very
curiously-patched jean, but he was almost stately in his simplicity,
and nothing could have been more apposite than the little nod with
which Alton made his affirmation. It implied a good deal more than
speech could have done.
"Ye will be asking about the place?" said Callender. "I'm wanting
three thousand dollars. It's worth all that."
Alton nodded, and it was evident that the men understood each other,
for there was no endeavour to lessen or enhance the value of the
property. "It will be worth more presently, but that's about the fair
thing now," he said.
"Weel," said Callender simply, "by then I may be dead. Twenty years
I've lived on my lone here, and I thought at one time I would be
content to lie down by between the bush and the river, but now a
longing to see the old land grips me. Ye will not understand it. Ye
were born in Canada."
"No," said Alton gravely. "The land that has fed me is good enough for
me."
The old man made a little gesture of assent. "Aye," he said. "It's a
good country, but I feel the old one calling me. It's just three
thousand dollars I'm asking ye."
Alton drew a sheet which seemed covered with calculations from his
wallet, and glanced at it silently. Then he looked at the rancher.
"One thousand down, one thousand in six months, and the rest any time
in two years, with six per cent," he said. "You might get the dollars
in your wallet if you made the deal with a land agent in Vancouver."
"Maybe," said Callender simply; "I can trust ye. I would not sell the
place to anybody."
Alton stood up. "You shall have a cheque to-morrow," he said.
They had mounted within another minute, and Alton glanced with a little
smile at his comrade as they rode on again.
"That," said Seaforth, "was in a sense a somewhat effective scene, but
I'm not sure which of us should go to the business school."
Alton laughed. "I don't often blunder when I deal with a man," said
he. "Callender and I wouldn't have been better pleased, or five
dollars richer, if we'd talked all day."
Seaforth nodded, though his eyes twinkled. "You don't seem so
confident about the other sex?" he said.
Alton gravely pointed to a towering fir. "That redwood would fetch a
good many dollars in Vancouver. I wonder when we'll get those saws
through," he said.
While he spoke a thud of hoofs grew louder, and presently a man came
riding in haste towards them down the trail. He drew bridle when he
recognized them, and Seaforth became curious when he saw that it was
Hallam. The latter made them an ironical salutation, and sat regarding
Alton covertly with his cunning beady eyes until the rancher smiled.
"If you were going down to see Callender, I fancy you're a little too
late," he said.
Seaforth wondered whether his comrade saw the wickedness in the other
man's face, and the slight closing of his hands upon the bridle. It
was very perceptible for a second, and then he made a gesture of
resignation.
"I think there was another time you got in ahead of me, and it might be
cheaper to buy you off," he said. "You haven't answered my letter
asking what you wanted for all you're holding up here, as well as the
ranch."
Alton flung his head back a trifle, and Seaforth knew what lay behind
his laugh. "No," he said; "I put it in the stove."
A little grey spot appeared in Hallam's cheeks, and once more his
fingers closed upon the bridle. "Well, you may be sorry by and by, but
as I'm a business man first and last I'll give you another chance," he
said. "There's not room for two of us in this valley, and with what
I'm holding I can call you any time."
Alton's eyes were half closed now, and there was a glint in them.
"I've been figuring on that," he said. "When I'm ready, I'll let you
see my hand."
Now if Hallam had been taught his business, which was an especially
mean one, in England he might have kept his temper; but he lacked
finish, though his abilities were unpleasantly sufficient in the West.
"Then it is to be hoped you'll put up a better game than you did at
Townshead's ranch. I was a little sorry for the girl," he said. "Met
her once or twice in Vancouver, and she didn't seem well off."
Alton said nothing, but he pressed his heels home, and the big tired
horse moved forward. The trail was narrow just there, and wound
through a quaggy belt where tall wild cabbage grew out of black depths
of mire. There was also no room for Hallam to wheel his horse on the
slippery sawn-up logs, and Alton urged his beast on, glancing
imperturbably at the man in front of him.
Again the grey crept into Hallam's face, and a very unpleasant look in
his eyes, but he drew his bridle, and next moment his horse was
floundering in the mire. Alton laughed a little as he rode on without
glancing behind him.
"That may have been pleasant," said Seaforth dryly, "but in view of
what I saw in Hallam's face I don't know that it was wise."
"Well," said Alton, "I think it was. There's only one way of arguing
with a panther, and that beast's a good deal less dangerous than Hallam
is. Now you'll ride in to the settlement to-morrow, and put up a
notice at the store: 'The ranchers of the Somasco district are
requested to attend a meeting at 6.30, Saturday.' At the bottom you'll
put a big 'Important.' I've got to have a talk with you to-night."
He made a hasty breakfast when they reached the ranch, and was busy at
the sawmill, from which he did not return until supper, all day, so
that it was not until that meal was finished and he was waiting for
Seaforth that he had speech with Miss Deringham. She sat by the stove
apparently occupied with some delicate embroidery, but it was possible
that her attention was not confined to the stitches. Alton sat near
her, looking straight before him, in a deerhide chair, and it was
significant that neither of them found speech necessary. The man's
face was somewhat grim, and the girl wondered what he was thinking.
"You apparently did not find Vancouver enlivening," she said.
Alton laughed a little. "I took one or two little worries along, and
found another when I got there."
Miss Deringham went on with her embroidery for a While, and then
glanced at the man again. "I wonder if any of them were connected with
the sale of Townshead's ranch?" she said.
Alton smiled a little. "I'm getting kind of afraid of you," he said.
"One of them was."
Alice Deringham laughed prettily, and was inwardly contented. She had
been used to influence and admiration, but there was a subtle pleasure
in being the recipient of this man's homage, while she surmised that
had he not offered her all of it he would not have made the admission
concerning Townshead.
"Your recent neighbour is not doing well down there?" she said. "I am
sorry for Miss Townshead."
Alton nodded, and his face was sombre as well as pitiful, "It's very
rough on a girl of that kind, and she's true grit right through," he
said. "I'm thankful you don't know what some women who have to earn
their living doing what used to be men's work in the cities have to put
up with."
"Still," said Alice Deringham, "I can guess. Miss Townshead was
working at something uncongenial for a livelihood, and was not
especially cordial to you?"
Alton looked at her gravely. "No," he said. "She hadn't even found
that something yet, and she was very kind. That's what made me feel it
worse."
"Of course she would not have shown you what she thought," said the
girl a trifle dryly. "And you were not responsible in any case."
Alton glanced at her with some bewilderment. "No?" he said. "I'm
sitting here with all that a man could wish for, while that girl, who
was used to all the good things you have in the old country, walks
round and round the city looking for something she can earn a few
dollars at, when I might have fixed things differently if it hadn't
been for Tom. It's hard to feel there's a meaner man than I am in the
Dominion."
Miss Deringham saw the veins rise on his forehead and the glint in his
eyes, and shivered a little as she hoped the man would never discover
it was not the rancher who had brought the shame upon him.
"Would it have been possible for you to do anything to help them if you
had reached the ranch in time?" she said.
"Yes," said Alton simply, "I think it would. And it would have been
better for everybody in the district."
Though the girl did not altogether understand him, his very quietness
was impressive, for she knew by this time that what he stated was
usually rather more than less the fact.
"Well," she said lightly, "it was not your fault, and you will forget
it presently."
Alton smiled wryly. "I don't know," he said. "There are some kinds of
stains that don't wash out, but you're only wishing to be kind to me
because you understand all that better than I do in the old country."
The girl glanced aside and dropped her needle, while when she spoke her
voice was a trifle strained. "Do you know that you bushmen have made
me ashamed once or twice?" she said. "I am afraid there is a great
disappointment waiting for you when you see us as we are."
Alton rose as her father and Seaforth came in, with a curious little
inclination of his head which came well from him. "That simply
couldn't be," he said. "Well, it's a pity I couldn't tell you all you
have done for me already--and that's one reason why I'm so sorry the
other thing will not wash out. Now Charley and I have a good deal to
do, and you'll excuse me."
He went out with his comrade, and Deringham smiled at his daughter.
"He is learning rapidly. Still, I fancy the man will feel it when--and
I am of course speaking impersonally--he finds you out," he said.
Alice Deringham laughed, though she was not conscious of much amusement
just then, and pointed to the bookcase close by her.
"It is really not his fault, if that is where he gets his fancies
from," she said.
"No," said Deringham, nodding. "We grow out of them at sixteen in the
old country. Of course, Tennyson, Kingsley, Scott. Now I wonder if he
would find Elaine a more common type than Vivienne if he went home to
Carnaby. Still, if you look a little more closely, there is literature
which might throw a slightly different light upon the man's character.
I notice a bulky volume on soft-wooded trees, somebody on trigonometry,
geology in relation to mining, and what I recognize as a standard work
on finance and banking."
Alice Deringham smiled. "Do you know I fancy that Alton of Somasco
would with a little training make his mark at home," she said. "Has he
mentioned any intention of returning with you?"
Deringham's face grew a trifle sombre. "He has not. We will talk of
something else," he said.
Alton and Seaforth sat up late that night, but what their conversation
was did not appear until they walked into a room at the rear of
Horton's store just as supper was being cleared away on the Saturday
evening. The nights were already growing cold, and a pile of pinewood
crackled in the stove, while the light of two big lamps fell upon the
bronzed faces of grave jean-clad men, all turned expectantly towards
Alton. He sat down at the head of the table, with Seaforth beside him,
and Horton, got up in a frayed-out white shirt from which his bony
wrists and red neck protruded grotesquely, at the foot. The rest sat
on the table and sundry boxes and barrels smoking tranquilly. They
were, for the most part, silent men who waged a grim and ceaseless
warfare with the forest, and disdained any indication of curiosity.
Nobody asked a question, but the steady eyes which watched the convener
of the meeting were mildly inquiring when he rose up.
"I sent for you, boys, because it seemed the fairest thing," he said.
"Now somebody has got to take hold with a tight grip if the dollars
that are coming into it are to go to the men who have done the work in
this valley. You have seen what has happened down Washington and
Oregon way, and we don't any of us want it here in Canada. When the
good time came was it the man who'd put in his twelve hours daily with
the axe and crosscut who got the dollars, or the one who lived soft in
the cities?"
There was a little growl from several among the assembly, for most of
those who sat there realized that it was usually the mortgage broker
and speculator who reaped where the toilers with axe and saw had sown.
"There'll have to be laws made to hold them fellows' grip off the poor
man." said somebody.
Alton laughed a little. "Well," he said dryly, "it seems to me that
the poor man should do a little of the holding off himself. Now I want
you to listen carefully. Within twelve months you'll see a new
wagon-road cut south towards the big river, and inside two years the
surveyors running the line for a new railroad into the Somasco valley."
The men stared at the speaker, and there was a murmur, almost of doubt,
and wonder. They knew what that promise meant, and it implied the
opening of mines and mills, a market for all they could raise on the
spot, and the quadrupling in value of every ranch. Alton sat quietly
imperturbable at the head of the table.
"And you believe the thing's going to be?" said somebody.
"I think," said Alton quietly, "I have just told you so."
There was another murmur, of strong and patient men's unexpressed
exultation, and Seaforth noticed that they had accepted his comrade's
statement, without further question, implicitly. They were in some
respects simple, and the complex life of the cities was unknown to most
of them, but they had seen human nature stripped of its veneer in the
bush and understood it well. It was a delicate compliment they had
paid Alton, and the little flush in his face showed that he realized it.
"It's great news," said somebody.
Alton nodded. "Yes," he said. "Now I can't tell you exactly why I
know this thing will come, and you wouldn't be any worse off if I were
wrong. Further, you see I might have gone ahead and brought you up
without speaking a word to you."
A man got up from a barrel. "No, sir," he said. "I'm not going to
disturb this meeting, but that's just what you couldn't do. It
wouldn't be like Somasco Harry."
There was grave applause, but the glint in the steady eyes was pleasant
to see, and Seaforth felt a curious thrill as he glanced at his
partner. Alton, however, proceeded quietly.
"I needn't tell you what it means," he said. "It may mean anything,
including a wooden city. You know it as well as I do, but I'm going to
tell you this. Unless you hold tight to your own, and do a little for
yourselves, when the good time comes you'll be left out in the cold.
There's a man who sees this better than you or I feeling for a grip on
the Somasco valley, and there'll be very little left for the rest of us
if he gets it."
"Hallam of the Tyee," a growl ran down the table.
Alton nodded. "Yes," said he. "Now you have seen poor men frozen out
of their ranches and claims by men with money in other parts of this
country as well as across the frontier, and there's usually only one
end to the battle when the man without the dollars kicks against the
man with plenty. Stay right where you are with mortgages held open,
timber rights that are lapsing because you've done nothing, and
undeveloped mineral claims, and the man who sits scheming while you're
resting will squeeze you out one by one."
"It has happened before," said somebody, and there was silence for a
space. The men had spent the best years of their life hewing the
clearings that grew so slowly farther into the virgin forest, faring
sparingly, and only quitting that herculean toil to earn sufficient
dollars railroad building or working at the mines to feed them when
they continued it again. They had sown the best that was in them of
mind and body, giving all they had, courage that never faltered, as
well as the ceaseless effort of over-strained muscle, and as yet their
fee was but the right to hope and toil. And now, they knew, it was
once more possible that the full-fleshed taxer of other men's labours
would sweep what was theirs into his garner.
"Yes," said Alton. "And what has happened before will happen
again--unless you stir round and stop it. That's the only use in
remembering things. Standing alone, Hallam and his crowd will squeeze
you out one by one; standing fast together for what is your own, you're
fit to choke off anybody, and what I've called you here for is to see
whether we can't fix up a Co-operative Company!"
A man stood up with a light in his eyes. "Then you've hit the thing
plumb where you wanted," he said. "Whose standing in with Alton of
Somasco, boys?"
There was a roar this time, and then a silence as if the assembly felt
that they had done an unseemly thing, but it was evident that they were
all of them ready.
"I figure you've got a programme?" said somebody.
"I have," said Alton. "I'll have a bigger one by and by, but in the
meanwhile it includes the selling of timber in place of destroying it,
and a doubling right off of the Somasco mill. It also takes in a
gristmill, the recording of more timber rights, and most of you getting
in on the ground floor of a new silver mine. There's to be an office
down in Vancouver, and a desiccated fruit store, and the best men we
can get hold of to run them. Now sit still while I read what might do
for a scheme."
They sat very still, and even Seaforth, who knew his comrade, wondered
a little, for that scheme, while crude in one or two directions, was
eminently workable. It provided for a pro rata division of profits and
partition of expenses, while each man would retain the control of his
own holding, and those who listened nodded now and then as they noted
the efficiency of some portion of the plan of co-operation.
"Now," said Alton quietly, laying down the paper. "That's my notion.
I'm willing to listen if any man can bring out a better."
There was a silence until Horton rose up at the foot of the table,
glass in hand. "I," he said simply, "don't think he can. Every dollar
I can raise is going in, and we're all standing in with Alton. Here's
the Somasco Consolidated, and to ---- with Hallam."
There was a roar louder than the first one, a clink of glasses, and
forgetting their reticence for once the big bronzed men thronged about
the one who smiled at them from the head of the table.