SADIE FINDS A FRIEND
The sun shone hot on the rippling grass, but it was cool on the shady
veranda where Helen sat in a basket chair. A newspaper lay close by and
the loose leaves fluttered now and then, but she did not notice that it
was in some danger of blowing away. She had been occupied since early
morning, but was not quite asleep, for she was vaguely conscious of a
rhythmic drumming. By and by she raised her head with a jerk and glanced
at the watch on her wrist. It was three o'clock and she had been dozing
for an hour. Then the drumming fixed her attention and she saw a rig
lurch along the uneven trail. The horses were trotting fast and there
were two people in the light wagon.
Helen saw that one was Charnock. The other, who held the reins, was, no
doubt, his wife, and Helen was sorry that Festing was at work beyond
the rise. She would have liked him to be there when she received her
visitors, but did not think it prudent to send for him. The rig was near
the house now, and as she got up her dress moved the newspaper, which
was caught by a draught and blew down the stairs and across the grass.
It flapped in the fresh wind and fell near the horses' feet.
This was too much for the range-bred animals to stand, and they reared
and plunged, and then began to back away from the fluttering white
object. Charnock jumped out and ran towards their heads, but Sadie
raised her whip with a gesture of command.
“Don't butt in, Bob; I'm going to take them past.”
Charnock stood back obediently, though his alert pose hinted that he was
ready to run forward if he were needed, and Helen studied his companion.
Sadie, dressed in black and white, with a black feather in her white
hat, was braced back on the driving seat, with one hand on the reins
while she used the whip. There was a patch of bright color in her face,
her eyes flashed, and the rigidity of her figure gave her an air of
savage resolution. She looked a handsome virago as she battled with the
powerful horses, which plunged and kicked while the wagon rocked among
the ruts. Helen watched the struggle with somewhat mixed feelings. This
was the girl for whom Bob had given her up!
After an exciting minute or two Sadie forced the horses to pass the
fluttering paper, and then pulled them up.
“Where's Stephen?” she asked.
Helen said he was harrowing on the other side of the rise, and Sadie,
getting down, signed to Charnock.
“Put the team in the stable, and then go and look for Festing. Don't
come back too soon.”
Then she came towards the house and Helen felt half-annoyed and
half-amused. Stephen did not like to be disturbed when he was busy,
and she knew what he thought of Bob. Moreover, she wondered with some
curiosity what Mrs. Charnock had to say to her. Sadie sat down and
waited until she recovered breath.
“You know who I am,” she remarked presently. “Bob can drive all right,
but he's too easy with the team. I don't see why I should get down
before I want because the horses are scared by a paper.”
“Perhaps it was better to make them go on, but they nearly upset you,”
Helen agreed with a smile.
Sadie gave her a steady, criticizing glance, but her naïve curiosity
softened her rudeness.
“Well, I wanted to see you. Looks as if Bob was a fool, in one way, but
I guess I can see him through what he's up against on the prairie better
than you.”
Helen had been prejudiced against Mrs. Charnock, but her blunt sincerity
was disarming. Besides, she had expected something different; a hint of
defiance, or suspicious antagonism.
“It's very possible,” she said. “Everything is strange here. I feel
rather lost sometimes and have much to learn.”
Sadie studied her closely, and after pondering for a few moments
resumed: “When I was driving over I didn't know how I was going to take
you; in fact, I've been bothering about it for some time. I thought you
might be dangerous.”
“You thought I might be dangerous!” Helen exclaimed with rising color.
“Surely you understand--”
“Now you wait a bit and let me finish! Well, I might have come now and
then, found out what I could, and given you a hint or two, until we saw
how things were going to be. But that's not my way, and I reckon it's
not yours. Very well. We have got to have a talk and put the thing
over. To begin with, I somehow feel I can trust you, and needn't be
disturbed.”
“Then I'm afraid you are rash,” Helen rejoined with a resentment that
was softened by a touch of humor. “You can't form a reliable opinion,
because you don't know me.”
“That's so, but I know Bob.”
Helen laughed. She ought to be angry, for Mrs. Charnock was taking an
extraordinary line. But perhaps it was the best line, because it would
clear the ground. She said nothing and Sadie went on:
“How do you like it here?”
“Very much. I like the open country and the fresh air. Then I think I
like the people, and one has so much to do that there is not time to
feel moody. It's bracing to find every minute occupied by something
useful.”
“If you feel that way about it, you'll make good. And you've got a fine
man for your husband. When Festing first came to the bridge I didn't
know if I'd take him or Bob. In fact, I thought about it for quite a
time.”
Helen's eyes sparkled. Mrs. Charnock was going too far, but she
controlled her resentment.
“After all, were you not taking something for granted?”
“Well,” said Sadie thoughtfully, “if I'd tried hard, I might have got
Steve then, but I don't know if I'd have been any happier with him. He'd
have gone his own way and taken me along; a good way, perhaps, but it
wouldn't have been mine. Bob's different; sometimes he has to be hustled
and sometimes led, but you get fond of a man you must take care of. Then
everybody likes Bob, and he kind of grows on you. I don't know how it
is, but you can't get mad with him.”
Helen thought there was something humiliating to Bob in his wife's
patience, but she was moved. Mrs. Charnock loved her husband, though she
knew his faults. Then Sadie resumed in a harder voice:
“Anyhow, he's mine and I know how to keep what belongs to me.”
“I imagine you will keep him. I have no wish to take him away.”
“Well, that's why I came. I wanted to see you, and now I'm satisfied.
Bob needs a friend like your husband and he puts Steve pretty high. If
you can see your way to let us drive over now and then evenings----”
Helen pondered this. Stephen might object, but he was not unreasonable,
and his society would certainly be good for Bob. She was not altogether
pleased by the thought of the Charnocks' visits, but Sadie's resolve to
help her husband had touched her. Then there was something flattering in
the hint that she and Stephen could take a part in his reformation.
“Very well,” she said. “I hope you will come when you like. It will do
Stephen no harm to get a rest instead of hurrying back to work after
supper.”
Sadie looked grateful. “We'll certainly come. I've talked to you as I'd
have talked to nobody else, but you know Bob most as well as I do. But
perhaps there's enough said. Won't you show me the house?”
Helen realized that she had made an alliance with Mrs. Charnock for
Bob's protection, and was conscious of a virtuous thrill. The work she
had undertaken was good, but she remembered with faint uneasiness that
she had pledged her husband to it without his consent. She showed Sadie
the house, and while there was much the latter admired, she made, from
her larger knowledge of the plains, a number of suggestions that Helen
thought useful. By and by Bob returned with Festing for supper, and
stopped for another hour. When he and Sadie had gone Festing frowned as
he glanced at his watch.
“It's too late to finish the job I wanted to do tonight,” he said, and
indicated the dark figures of a man and horses silhouetted against the
sunset on the crest of the rise. “There's Jules coming home. He couldn't
get on without me.”
Helen pretended not to notice his annoyance. “After all, you're not
often disturbed, and a little relaxation is good. I've no doubt you had
an amusing talk with Bob.”
“Bob bored me badly, though we didn't talk much. I was driving the
disc-harrows and he lay in the grass. I had to stop for a few minutes
every time I reached the turning and listen to his remarks.”
“And you feel you deserve some sympathy?” Helen said with a laugh.
“Well, I suppose it was an infliction to be forced to talk.”
Festing's annoyance vanished. “I mustn't make too much of it. I really
don't object to talking when I've finished my work.”
“When do you finish your work, Stephen?”
“That's a fair shot! In summer, I stop when it's too dark to see. The
annoying thing wasn't so much the stopping as Bob's attitude. He lay
there with his pipe, looking as if nothing would persuade him to work,
and his smile hinted that he thought delaying me an excellent joke. I
believe I was polite, but certainly hope he won't come back.”
Helen thought it was not the proper time to tell him about the
invitation she had given Sadie, and she said, “Idleness seems to jar
you.”
“It does. I dislike the man who demands the best to eat and drink and
won't use his brain or muscle if he can help. In this country, the
thing's immoral; the fellow's obviously a cheat. We live by our labor,
raising grain and cattle--”
“But what about the people in the towns?”
“A number of them handle our products and supply us with tools. Of
course, there are speculators and real-estate boomsters who gamble with
our earnings, but their job is not as easy as it looks. They run big
risks and bear some strain. Still, if it was left to me, I'd make them
plow.”
Helen laughed. “You're rather drastic, Stephen; but if one takes the
long view, I dare say you are right.”
“Then let's take the narrowest view we can. When a farmer who hasn't
much money loafs about the poolroom and lies on his back, smoking, it's
plain that he's taking advantage of somebody else. Perhaps the thing's
shabbiest when he puts his responsibilities on his wife. That's what Bob
does.”
“I'm afraid he does,” Helen admitted, and mused, while Festing lighted
his pipe.
Stephen was not a prig and she recognized the justice of his arguments,
but he was rather hard and his views were too clear-cut. He saw that
a thing was good or bad, but could not see that faults and virtues
sometimes merged and there was good in one and bad in the other.
“Well,” she said, “I like Mrs. Charnock, and she is certainly energetic
and practical. She went over the house and suggested some improvements.
For example, you are building a windmill pump for the cattle, and it
wouldn't cost very much to bring a pipe to the house. A tap is a great
convenience and would save Jules' time filling up the tank.”
“It will need a long pipe and cost more than Sadie thinks, but I'll have
it done. However, I wish I had thought of it and she hadn't made the
suggestion. I don't want Sadie interfering with our house.”
“But you don't dislike Mrs. Charnock.”
“Not in a way; but I don't know that I want to see her here. Sadie has
a number of good points, but she's rather fond of managing other folks'
affairs. Then she's not your kind.”
On the whole, Helen was not displeased. Mrs. Charnock's bold statements
that she could have got Stephen if she had wanted had jarred, but it
looked as if she had made an empty boast.
“I thought you were a democrat,” she remarked, smiling.
“So I am, in general; but when it's a matter of choosing my wife's
friends, I'm an exclusive aristocrat. That's the worst of having
theories; they don't apply all round.”
Helen thought his utilitarian dislike of idleness was open to this
objection, but it was not the time to urge Bob's cause. She would wait
for another opportunity, when Stephen had not been delayed, and she made
him a humorous curtsey.
“Sometimes you're rather bearish, and sometimes you're very nice,” she
said, and went into the house.
The Charnocks returned a week later and came again at regular intervals,
while Helen rode over to their house now and then. Festing refused
to accompany her and sometimes grumbled, but on the whole tolerated
Charnock's visits so long as they did not delay his work. Nothing must
be allowed to interfere with that, for he was uneasily conscious that
he had set himself too big a task. His dislike to using his wife's money
had spurred him on, and he had sown a very large crop at a heavy expense
for labor, horses, and machines. Now he must spare no effort to get his
money back, and much depended on the weather. Indeed, he was beginning
to feel the strain of the unrelaxing exertion and care about details,
and this sometimes reacted upon his temper. Still he must hold out until
the crop was reaped, after which he could go easy during the winter
months.
One hot afternoon, he lay under a mower in a sloo where the melted snow
had run in spring and the wild grass now grew tall. It made good hay and
the fierce sun had dried it well, so that he had only to cut and haul
it home; but something had gone wrong with the machine, and after taking
out the broken knife he dismantled the driving gear. When he crawled
out, with a greasy cogwheel in his hand, he was soaked with perspiration
and his overalls were stained by oil. The mosquitoes, that did not as a
rule venture out in the strong wind and sun, had bitten him badly while
he lay in the grass.
“You had better wait for ten minutes and take a smoke,” said Charnock,
who had come up quietly and sat in the shade of the partly-loaded wagon.
“You'll get on faster when you have cooled down.”
“You believe in waiting, don't you?” Festing rejoined.
Charnock laughed. “I feel justified in going slow just now. Sadie
has given me a day off, and when she doesn't think I ought to work it
certainly isn't necessary. It saves you some bother if you can leave
that sort of thing to your wife.”
“Pshaw!” said Festing. “You make me tired.”
He picked up the broken knife and looked at Charnock. Bob was bantering
him, exaggerating his slackness. As a matter of fact, the fellow was not
so lazy as he pretended; Sadie was beginning to wake him up. Stephen did
not know if he had forgiven him or not, but they had gradually dropped
back into something like their old relations.
“You might take off the broken blades,” he resumed. “You'll find new
ones in the box. They ought to be riveted, but if you use the short
bolts and file down the nuts, I dare say they'll run through the
guides.”
Then he crawled back under the machine and did not come out until he
head a rattle of wheels. Wilkinson, whom he knew and disliked, stopped
his team close by and began to talk to Charnock. This annoyed Festing,
because he was nearly ready to replace the knife.
“I called at your place and found you were out,” Wilkinson remarked.
“They told me where you had gone, and when I saw Festing's wagon I
reckoned you might have gone with him. You come here pretty often, don't
you?”
“Steve's patient,” Charnock replied with a twinkle. “I'm not sure he
enjoys my visits, but he puts up with them.”
“Well, I want you to drive over to-morrow evening. A man you know from
Winnipeg is coming to see me about a deal in Brandon building lots. The
thing looks good and ought to turn out a snap.”
“The trouble is I haven't much money to invest,” Charnock answered, and
Festing thought he was hesitating. It looked as if Wilkinson had not
seen him yet, for he was standing behind the machine.
“I understand you have a bigger interest in the farm than you had in the
hotel and something might be arranged. Anyhow, come over and hear what
our friend has to say.”
“You'll be a fool if you go, Bob,” Festing interposed.
“I don't know that this is your business,” Wilkinson rejoined. “I
haven't suggested that you should join us.”
“You know I wouldn't join you. I had one deal with you, and that's
enough. No doubt you remember selling me the brown horse.”
“You tried the horse before you bought him.”
“I did. He was quiet then, but I've since suspected that he was doped.
Anyhow, he nearly killed my hired man.”
Wilkinson laughed. “You had your trial and backed your judgment. Know
more about machines than horses, don't you?”
“I didn't know the man I dealt with then. You warranted the brute
good-tempered and easy to drive. I'll give you five dollars if you'll
take him out of the stable and harness him now.”
“I haven't time,” said Wilkinson. “Didn't charge you high and guess
you've got to pay for learning your business. The trouble is you're too
sure about yourself and reckoned you'd make a splash at farming without
much trouble. Anyhow, I don't want to sell Charnock a horse; he's a
better judge than you.”
“He's not much judge of building lots. If your friend has got a safe
snap, why do you want to let Charnock in?”
Wilkinson began to look impatient. “I came over to talk to Charnock, and
if he likes the deal it's not your affair.”
“It is my affair if you stop him when he's helping me,” Festing
rejoined. “If he's a fool, he'll talk to you some other time; if he's
wise, he won't. Just now I'd sooner you drove off my farm.”
Wilkinson gave him a curious look. “Very well. I reckon the place is
yours; or your wife's.” Then he turned to Charnock. “Are you coming
over, Bob?”
“No,” said Charnock, irresolutely, “I don't think I will.”
He lighted his pipe when Wilkinson started his team, and presently
remarked: “On the whole, I'm glad you headed him off, because I might
have gone. You mean well, Stephen, but that man doesn't like you, and
I've sometimes thought he doesn't like Sadie.”
“It doesn't matter if he likes me or not,” said Festing. “Let's get on
with the mower.”