SADIE USES PRESSURE
It was getting cold in the small back office when Sadie put down her pen
and went into the store. She was cramped with sitting, for she had been
occupied with accounts for several hours and the stove had burned low.
“You can quit now, Steve,” she said to the clerk. “Put out the lights,
but don't lock up. I'm going to wait until the boss comes.”
The clerk turned his head to hide a smile; because he knew where
Charnock was, and thought Mrs. Charnock might have to wait some time;
but he did as he was told, and when he went out Sadie stood shivering
at the door. She had married Charnock late in the fall and now it was
March, but there was no sign yet of returning spring. The sky was dark
and a bitter wind from the prairie blew down the empty street. Blocks of
square-fronted houses stood out harshly against the snow, which sparkled
here and there in a ray of light. The settlement looked ugly and very
desolate, and Sadie studied it with a feeling of weariness and disgust.
It seemed strange that she had once thought it a lively place, but this
was before she met Charnock, who had taught her much.
Shutting the door, she returned to the office and glanced critically at
her reflection in a mirror on the wall. She had been ill, in consequence
of the strain she had borne while her father was sick, and looked older.
Her face was thin and she felt tired, but her skin had not lost its
silky whiteness, and her black dress hung in becoming lines. It was a
well-cut dress, for Sadie was extravagant in such matters and knew how
to choose her clothes. She had lost the freshness that had marked her,
but had gained something: a touch of dignity that she thought of as
style.
Sitting down at the desk, she began to muse. Keller had fallen ill soon
after her wedding. It was a painful illness, and as skilled help was
scarce, she had nursed him until he died. He was a plain storekeeper,
but she knew he was, in many ways, a bigger and better man than Bob. He
demanded all that was his, but he kept his word, and when he undertook a
thing put it over, which Bob seldom did. Shortly before he died he gave
Sadie good advice.
“You got the man you wanted, and now it's your job to look after him.
head him off the liquor, and keep your hands on the dollars. I've fixed
things so's they belong to you.”
Another time he asked for certain accounts, and after studying them
remarked: “You want to watch the business and run it all it's worth.
You have a husband to work for now, and I guess a man like Bob comes
expensive. Still, if you can guild him right, he's not all a fool.”
Sadie had not resented this. She knew it was true, and her father had
not meant to sneer. He was a blunt man and generally talked like that,
and Sadie sometimes did so. Well, she had not been cheated, because
she knew what Bob was before they married; and although ambition had
something to do with it, she loved him. For all that, she had got some
rude jars, and now passion was dying, her love was colored by a certain
half-maternal protection. Bob must be watched and guarded.
Her ambition, however, remained. She had beauty and intelligence and
wanted to win a place in cultured society. Bob could help her, and she
was tired of the dreary settlement. But she was practical. Money would
be needed if they were to move to one of the cities, and although trade
was good, gathering dollars was slow work when one had an extravagant
husband. While she had been ill Bob was left in charge of the business,
and on recovering her first task had been to find out how he had
managed. Now she had found out and got something of a shock.
The room got colder, but Bob had made some entries in a cash-book she
could not understand, and opening the book again, she spent some time
in calculations that threw no fresh light on the matter. Then she heard
steps and turned as Charnock came in.
He took off his fur-coat and Sadie frowned as he dropped it into a dusty
corner. It was an expensive coat, but one could not teach Bob to take
care of things. Then he kissed her and sat down on the edge of the
table.
“You're getting prettier, Sadie; that thoughtful look of yours is
particularly fetching. But I can see you're tired. Put those books away
and let's get home.”
Sadie knew what his compliments were worth, although they had not lost
their charm. He wanted to put things off, but she must be firm.
“You make me tired, and I haven't finished with the books. We've got to
have a talk.”
“I like you best when you don't talk; you sometimes say too much,”
Charnock replied. “Besides a girl like you ought to be satisfied with
being seen. You're worth looking at.”
Sadie gave him a quick glance. He had recently become fastidious about
his clothes and she did not grudge the dollars he spent on them. His
taste was good, and he looked very graceful as he turned to her with
a smile on his face. The hint of dissipation it had worn was not so
marked, for she had some power over him and used it well, but she
thought he had been indulging. There was, however, no use in getting
angry with Bob.
“You were at Wilkinson's again,” she said. “You promised you'd stop off
going there. I suppose he set up the whisky!”
“I didn't take much. It wasn't good whisky; not like ours. That reminds
me--I'm not much of a business man, but I've had a happy thought. My
notion is we give the boys better liquor than they want. They wouldn't
know the difference if we kept cheaper stuff.”
Sadie frowned, because she had accepted her father's business code. His
charges were high, but it had been his boast that Keller's delivered the
goods one paid for. Then she realized that Bob had nearly succeeded in
putting off the threatened talk.
“No,” she said, “that's bad business in the end. When you'd had some
whisky, Wilkinson got out the cards?”
“Oh, well, you know you stopped me playing a quiet game at home, and
three or four of the boys were there. Then a Brandon real-estate man
asked for the cards.”
“How much were you out when you finished the game?”
“Not much,” said Charnock with some hesitation.
“How much?”
“If you insist, about ten dollars.”
Sadie made a gesture of impatience, but after all he might have had a
heavier loss.
“Ten dollars and a headache next morning for an evening's card game.
You surely don't know much, Bob! But look at this statement and tell me
where the money's gone.”
Charnock took the paper she gave him and colored.
“I never thought it was as much as that. Upon my word, I didn't!”
“Where's it gone?” Sadie demanded.
“I've been unlucky,” said Charnock, who began a confused explanation.
He had heard of a building lot on the outskirts of Winnipeg, to which he
had been told a new street line would run. He had paid for a time
option on the site, and now it appeared that the trolley scheme had been
abandoned. Then somebody had given him a hint about a deal in grain that
the speculators could not put over. It looked a safe snap and he had
sold down, but the market had gone up and his margin was exhausted.
When he stopped, Sadie's eyes flashed scornfully, but she controlled her
anger.
“You're a fool, Bob; you never learn,” she said wearily. “Anyhow, you
have got to cut out this kind of thing; the business won't stand for it
long. Well, as you can't be trusted with dollars, I'll have to put you
on an allowance. I hate to be mean, but if you waste what I give you,
you'll get no more.”
Charnock's face got red. “This is rather a nasty knock. Not that I want
your money, but the thing's humiliating.”
“Do you think it isn't humiliating to me?”
“Perhaps it is,” said Charnock, with a half-ashamed look. “I admit I
have been something of an ass, but you are mean, in a sense. What are
you going to do with your money, if you don't intend to spend it?”
“Use if for making more; anyhow, until I get enough.”
“When will you have enough?”
“When I can sell out the business and live where I want; give you the
friends you ought to have instead of low-down gamblers and whisky-tanks.
If you'd take hold and work, Bob, we'd be rich in a few years. The boys
like you, you could do all the trade, and the boom that's beginning
will make this settlement a big place. But I guess there's no use in
talking--and I'm ill and tired.”
Sadie's pose got slack and she leaned her arms on the table with her
face in her hands. Charnock, feeling penitent, tried to comfort her.
“You're a very good sort, Sadie, and mean well; I'll go steady and try
not to bother you again. But we won't say any more about it now. Are
those new letters? The mail hadn't come when I left.”
She gave him two envelopes, and after reading part of the first letter
he started and the paper rustled in his hand.
“What's the matter?” she asked. “Have you lost some money I don't know
about?”
“I haven't,” Charnock answered with a hoarse laugh. “The letter's from
some English friends. You head that Festing had gone back to the Old
Country. Well, he's going to be married soon and will bring his wife
out.”
“Do you know her? Who is she?”
“Yes; I know her very well. She's Helen Dalton.”
“The girl you ought to have married!” Sadie exclaimed. “What's she like?
I guess you have her picture, though you haven't shown it me.”
“I had one, but haven't now. I meant to burn the thing, but suspect that
Festing stole it. Confound him!”
Sadie was silent for a few moments and then gave Charnock a searching
look. “Anyhow, I don't see why that should make you mad. You let her go
and took me instead. Do you reckon she'd have been as patient with you
as I am?”
“No,” said Charnock, rather drearily. “Helen isn't patient, and I dare
say I'd have broken her heart. You have done your best for me, and
I expect you find it a hopeless job. For all that, I never thought
Festing----”
“It's done with,” Sadie rejoined quietly, although there was some color
in her face. “If the girl likes Festing, what has it to do with you?
Besides, as he has located some way back from the settlement, there's
no reason you should meet him or his wife.” Then she frowned and got up.
“But the place is very cold; we'll go home.”
Charnock put out the light and locked the door, but he was silent as
they walked across the snow to the hotel, and Sadie wondered what he
thought. There was no doubt he was disturbed, or he would have tried to
coax her into abandoning her resolution to put him on an allowance. She
meant to be firm about this.
For the next two or three weeks Charnock occupied himself with his
duties and everything went smoothly at the store and hotel. He was
popular in the neighborhood, since his weaknesses were rather attractive
than repellent to people who did not suffer from them. Men who drove
long distances from their lonely farms liked a cheerful talk and to hear
the latest joke; others enjoyed a game of cards in the back office when
Mrs. Charnock was not about. Besides, it was known that Keller's was
straight; one got full weight and value when one dealt there.
Trade, moreover, was unusually good. Settlers looking for land filled
the hotel, and now elevators were to be built, farmers hired extra
labor and broke new soil. Household supplies were purchased on an
unprecedented scale, and when snow melted the hotel stables were
occupied by rough-coated teams, while wagons, foul with the mud of the
prairie trails, waited for their loads in front of the store. Sadie felt
cheered and encouraged, and although Bob sometimes spent in careless
talk an hour or two that might have been better employed, she was
willing to make up for his neglect by extra work in the office at night.
He was doing well and she began to be hopeful.
One evening, however, when there were goods to be entered and bills
written out, he went home for supper and did not come back. Sadie
stopped in the office long after the clerk had gone, but when she put
down her pen the stove was out and she was surprised to find how late it
was. She felt tired and annoyed, for she had been busily occupied since
morning, and suspected that Bob was telling amusing stories while
she did his work. Then in shutting up the store she forgot her rubber
over-shoes, and the sidewalk was plastered with sticky mud. She wore
rather expensive slippers and thought they would be spoiled.
Charnock was not about when she entered the hotel, and the guests seemed
to have gone to bed. The light was out in the office, and the big
lounge room, where lumps of half-dry mud lay upon the board floor, was
unoccupied. The bell-boy, who was using a brush amidst a cloud of
dust, said he did not think the boss had gone upstairs, and with
sudden suspicion Sadie entered a dark passage that led to a room where
commercial travelers showed their goods. She opened the door and stopped
just inside, her head tilted back and an angry sparkle in her eyes.
The room was very hot and smelt of liquor, tobacco, and kerosene;
the lamp had been turned too high and its cracked chimney was black.
Charnock and three others sat round a table on which stood a bottle
and four glasses. One of the glasses had upset and there was a pool,
bordered by soaked cigar-ash, on the boards. The men were playing cards,
and a pile of paper money indicated that the stakes were high.
Sadie knew them all and deeply distrusted one, whom she suspected of
practising on her husband's weaknesses; she disliked another, and the
third did not count. She looked up rather awkwardly, and she saw that
Charnock had taken too much liquor.
“Good evening, boys,” she said. “I want to lock the doors, and guess you
don't know how late it is.”
Wilkinson, the man she distrusted, took out his watch. He had a horse
ranch some distance off, and the farmers called him a sport. As a matter
of fact, he was a successful petty gambler, but generally lost his
winnings by speculating in real-estate and wheat.
“It's surely late, Mrs. Charnock,” he agreed. “Still, I dare say you can
give us a quarter of an hour.”
“Five minutes,” Sadie answered. “You can cut the game you're playing
when you like. I'm tired, but I'll wait.”
Wilkinson looked at Charnock, but stopped arranging his cards. “Well,
I'm ready to quit. Bob's made a scoop the last few deals, and I reckon
I've not much chance of getting my money back.”
“Go 'way, Sadie; go 'way right now!” Charnock interrupted. “You gotta
put up a fair game, and I can't stop when I've all the boys' dollars in
my pocket.”
Sadie was sometimes tactful, but her anger was quick, and she disliked
to hear her husband use Western idioms. Moreover she expected him to be
polite.
“Well,” she said, “I guess that's a change; your dollars are generally
in their wallets. But this game has to stop.”
Mossup, the man she did not like, turned in his chair. He was not sober
and his manners were not polished at the best of times. He sold small
tools and hardware for a Winnipeg wholesale firm.
“Say, you might call a bell-boy. That whisky's rank; I want a different
drink.”
Charnock got up with an awkward movement, but Sadie did not want his
help.
“Drinks are served in the bar and the bar is shut,” she said.
“I'm stopping here; I hired this room, and as long as I pay it's mine.
We're not in Manitoba, and I guess the law--”
Sadie silenced him imperiously. She understood his reference to
Manitoba, where regulations dealing with liquor are strictly enforced.
“I make the law at Keller's, and this hotel is not a gambling saloon.
Mr. Wilkinson, cork that bottle and put it on the shelf.”
As Wilkinson obeyed, Mossup put his hand on his arm to hold him back,
but Charnock interfered:
“You sit down right now. Understand, everybody, what Mrs. Charnock says
goes.”
“Certainly,” Wilkinson agreed. “Get off to bed Mossup; you'll have a
swelled head all right to-morrow, as it is. I'll put out the light, Mrs.
Charnock; guess I'll do it better than Bob.”
“Think I can't put out a common old lamp?” Charnock inquired. “Destroy
the blamed thing 'fore I let it beat me.”
“You're not going to try,” said Wilkinson, who hustled him and Mossup
out of the room and then held the door open for Sadie.
She thanked him, but felt that if she had ground to fear resentment, it
was not Mossup's but his. Wilkinson had manners, but she knew he did not
like to be robbed of an easy victim, and it was possible that he had
let Bob win until he was drunk enough to be fleeced. She waited a few
moments to let the others go, and then went upstairs and stopped in a
passage that led to her room. Her face was hot and she breathed fast,
for her part in the scene had cost her something. It would have been
different had Charnock not been there; she could have dealt with the
others, but he had made her ashamed. Then she heard his step and turned
with passionate anger as he came along the passage. He stopped and
looked at her with drunken admiration.
“By George, you're a fine thing, Sadie! Handsomest and pluckiest woman
in the township!”
Sadie said nothing, but her pose stiffened and her lips set tight.
“Look your best when you're angry,” Charnock went on. “Not quite so
'tractive, too pale and want animation, when you're calm.”
She did not answer, but felt a quiver of repulsion. His voice was thick,
his eyes had a stupid amorous look, and he smelt of whisky. Sadie was
not remarkably fastidious; she had, for several years, managed a hotel,
and had used her physical charm to attract the man, but she was jarred.
As yet, she made no appeal to the better side of Bob's nature, if it had
a better side, and his sensual admiration revolted her.
Charnock felt puzzled and somewhat daunted, but tried to put his arm
round her waist. Sadie seized his shoulders and pushed him violently
back.
“Don't you touch me, you drunken hog!” she said.
He gazed at her in dull surprise and then braced himself. Sadie had
moods, but generally came round if he made love to her. Besides,
although she was in one of her rages, her attitude was irresistibly
inciting.
“I'm your husband anyhow. Now don't be a silly little fool----”
She drew back as he advanced and picked up a mop. It was used for
polishing board floors and had a long handle.
“You're my husband when you're sober; I didn't marry a whisky-tank. If
you touch me, Bob, I'll knock you down!”
Charnock stopped. When Sadie spoke like that she meant what she said.
She looked at him steadily for a moment or two, and then put down the
mop and turned away. He durst not follow, and when she entered a room
close by, he shrugged with half-bewildered resignation and stumbled off.
Sadie, leaning with labored breath against the rail of her bed, heard
him fall down the three or four steps in the middle of the passage
and afterwards get up and go on again. Then she laughed, a strained,
hysterical laugh.