CHARNOCK'S TRIUMPH
Six weeks after the accident Musgrave and Charnock came into the shack
one evening. The former had examined Festing in the afternoon, and Helen
gave him a meaning look. It hinted that she had expected his visit and
meant to encourage him.
“Come near the stove and smoke if you like. It is very cold.”
“No sign of the frost's breaking, I suppose?” said Festing, who lay
propped up with pillows. “Did you get the particulars I asked for, Bob?”
Charnock gave him a paper with some calculations, and after a time he
nodded.
“On the whole, this is satisfactory; things are going better than I
thought. But what about the new job across the river?”
“Things are going better than he thought! Isn't that like Stephen?”
Charnock remarked to the others, and then turned to Festing. “However,
I expect you didn't mean to be rude and you never were very tactful. We
haven't begun the job you mentioned, but I don't know that it matters
since we're busy at something else, and that's not what I want to talk
about. Musgrave has examined you and gives us an encouraging report.”
“My opinion is that he can be moved and the journey home won't hurt him
if proper care is used.”
“But I don't want to be moved just yet,” Festing objected.
“No doubt,” said Musgrave dryly. “You are an obstinate fellow, but
you're in our hands now, and we have to think what is best for you. To
begin with, you won't be able to get about in time to be of much use,
and you don't get better as fast as you ought. Then I understood you
were resigned to going home before the contract is finished.”
“If I must; but I don't want to go now. I'm able to arrange things with
Charnock in the evenings.”
“The fact is he doesn't trust me yet,” Charnock remarked with a grin.
“You know that isn't true, Bob!”
“Then prove you trust me by going home with Helen. She has been plucky
to stay so long, and now you're fit to be moved, you oughtn't to keep
her. There's another thing; to be frank, you don't help much. We need a
boss to superintend, which you can't do, and when I want advice I can
go to Norton. As a matter of fact, when I come here in the evenings you
find fault with what I've done. When I undertake a job I like to feel
I'm carrying it out.”
Festing stopped him and looked at Helen, for he was not deceived by
Charnock's injured tone.
“I imagine this is something like a plot to get me away.”
“I think you would get better much faster at home, Stephen. You cannot
do anything useful here, and you cannot rest. Mr. Musgrave agrees.”
“Certainly. If he stays, Festing will do himself harm and bother his
partner.”
Festing knitted his brows and was silent for a moment or two. Then he
said, “Since it looks as if you had made your plans, I had better go.
You're a very good fellow, Bob; but if you can't keep things straight,
I'll come back and superintend from a stretcher.”
They talked about other matters, but when Charnock left, Helen put on
her furs and told Festing she wanted fresh air. Moonlight shone upon
the dark pines and sparkled on the snow, and when they came out of the
shadow of the trees she thought Charnock's face was grave.
“I'm grateful, Bob,” she said. “It's a big thing you have undertaken!”
“I frankly wish it was smaller,” Charnock answered. “I fact, I feel I
have been horribly rash. I haven't Stephen's constructive talent or, for
that matter, his energy, but somehow I mustn't be beaten.”
Helen gave him a gentle look. “You won't be beaten. It's unthinkable! We
trust you.”
Then she went back and read a newspaper to Festing, who was carried
down to the supply train next day and made comfortable in the caboose.
Charnock talked to him carelessly until the couplings tightened and the
locomotive began to snort, but his mouth was firm and his face set as
he went back to his work. He knew what he was up against, and there were
difficulties he had not told Festing about.
The days got longer, and the frost was relaxing its grip on the white
prairie, when Festing left his homestead and walked to the trail-fork
to meet the mail-carrier. He returned with some letters and sat down
limply. His face was thin and pale.
“I get tired soon, and there's nothing from Bob yet,” he grumbled as he
turned over the envelopes. “It's curious, because he told us the job was
nearly finished and some of the big engineers were coming out to examine
the track. They ought to have arrived some days ago, and I've no doubt
they'd test the work thoroughly when they were there.”
“You get too anxious,” Helen replied. “If you had a calmer temperament,
you would be stronger now. The engineers can hardly have had time to
make a proper test.”
“I have some grounds for being anxious. If the fellows aren't satisfied,
we won't get paid.”
Helen smiled. “You're really afraid that Bob may have been careless and
neglected something!”
“Bob's a very good partner; I've confessed that I misjudged him,”
Festing answered with a touch of embarrassment. “Still, you see, I know
his drawbacks, and I know mine. There were two or three pieces of work,
done before I left, that I now see might have been better planned.”
Helen went to the door, for she heard a soft drumming of hoofs on beaten
snow.
“Sadie's coming,” she said. “Perhaps she has some news.”
Festing followed her and Sadie stopped the horses, but did not get down.
“I've a telegram from Bob; he'll be home to-morrow,” she said. “He wants
you both to meet him at the station.”
“Did he say anything about the job being finished?” Festing asked as he
went down the steps.
“No,” said Sadie. “He seemed particularly anxious to see you at the
depot; my hands are too numb or I'd show you the telegram. I haven't
time to come in and don't want the team to stand in the cold.”
Then she waved her hand to Helen and drove away.
About six o'clock next evening Helen and Festing walked up and down
beside the track at the railroad settlement. There was no platform, but
the agent's office stood near the rails, with a baggage shed, and a big
tank for filtering saline water near the locomotive pipe. Behind these,
three tall grain-elevators, which had not been finished when Festing saw
them last, rose against the sky, dwarfing the skeleton frame of a new
hotel. The ugly wooden houses had extended some distance across the
snow, and Festing knew the significance of this. It was not dark yet,
but the headlamp of a locomotive in the side-track flung a glittering
beam a quarter of a mile down the line. In the west, a belt of saffron
light, cut by the black smear of a bluff, glimmered on the horizon.
Festing indicated the settlement.
“It has grown fast, but if things go as some of us expect, the change
will soon be magical. In a year or two you'll see a post-office like a
palace, and probably an opera-house, besides street cars running north
and south from the track.”
“I think I should like that,” Helen remarked. “When it comes, you will
have an office and a telephone, and be satisfied to superintend.”
Festing laughed. “It's possible, but there's much to be done first, and
I'm not getting on very fast just now. Still I don't feel knocked out
and I've walked half a mile.”
Glancing at the elevator towers and blocks of square-fronted houses
that rose abruptly from the snow, Helen mused. The settlement jarred
her fastidious taste, but she had seen Western towns that had, in a few
years, grown out of their raw ugliness and blossomed in an efflorescence
of ambitious architecture. Such beauty as they then possessed was not
refined or subdued, but it was somehow characteristic of the country and
harmonized with the builders' optimism. There was no permanence on the
prairie; everything was in a fluid state of change and marked by a bold,
but sometime misguided, striving for something better. Then she turned
to her husband. His face was thin and she noted lines that came from
mental strain and physical suffering, but his eyes were calm. She liked
his look of quiet resolution.
“You are getting stronger fast,” she said. “The days are lengthening,
spring is near, and you will soon be able to work again. Well, I will
not try to stop you. When the prairie is plowed and covered with wheat I
want you to feel that you have done your part. The change that is coming
will bring the things women like; comfort, amusements, society. But what
about you and the others, the pioneers, when there is no more ground to
be broken and the way is cleared?”
Festing smiled. “As a rule, the pioneer sells his homestead and goes on
into the wilds to blaze another trail, but I imagine I shall be glad to
rest. If not, we're an adaptable people and there are different ways of
helping things along. One can learn to use other tools than the ax and
plow.”
“Ah,” said Helen, “You are getting broader. You see clearly, Stephen,
and your views are often long, but I sometimes thought you focused them
too narrowly on the object in front. Perhaps I shall have done something
if I have taught you to look all round. But here's Sadie and the train.”
A light sprang out from the distant bluff and grew into a dazzling
fan-shaped beam. Then the roar of wheels slackened, and Sadie joined the
others as a bell began to toll, and with smoke streaming back along the
cars the train rolled into the station. Somebody leaned out from the
rails of a vestibule, and Sadie began to run beside the track.
“Come along!” she cried. “It's Bob!”
Festing and Helen followed, and when they reached the vestibule Charnock
pushed a door open and took them inside. The car was brightly lighted,
but not furnished on the usual plan. A table stood in the middle, the
curtained berths were at one end, and there were cases holding books and
surveying instruments. It was obviously meant for the use of railroad
managers and engineers, and three or four gentlemen stood near the
table, as if they had just got up. Festing saw that one was Dalton, who
advanced eagerly as Helen came in. He presented his companions to her
and Sadie, and a gentleman who was well known on Canadian railroads gave
Festing his hand. Another was Norton's employer, a famous contractor.
“Sit down,” said the first. “The engineer wants to fill his tank, and
they won't pull out until we are ready.” Then he turned to Festing. “We
have examined a piece of tract you helped build and I must compliment
you on a first-class job. As a rule, we are glad to get our contract
work up to specification, but you have done better.”
“My partner is really responsible for that,” Festing replied. “I got
knocked out soon after we made a good start and had to leave him to
carry on.”
The contractor smiled as he interposed: “A good beginning counts for
much, and I'm glad to state that Mr. Charnock has kept to your lines.
When you were forced to leave it seemed prudent to make some inquiries,
but we found that your partner was doing high-grade work, and now we
have inspected it, I must admit that Norton's favorable reports were
deserved.” He paused and turned to Sadie. “If your husband's as good a
farmer as an engineer, he'll make progress.”
Sadie flushed with pride. “Looks as if he'd made some already, but you
didn't run much risk when you trusted him.”
“My wife's the farmer and my partner the engineer,” Charnock remarked.
“I know my limits, but try to keep going when somebody starts me well.”
“You have gone farther than our bargain demanded, which doesn't often
happen,” said the contractor, who turned to Festing. “Mr. Charnock has
my cheque for the main job, but there are some accounts to make up and
you won't find my cashier disputes the extras. Perhaps that's all I need
say, except that you have satisfied me, and, I gather, satisfied your
men. In fact, you and Mr. Charnock leave us with general good feeling.”
Then they talked about something else until a man came in to say that
the locomotive tank was filled, and the engineer and contractor went to
the vestibule with their guests. For a minute or two the group stood on
the platform, exchanging farewell compliments, while the station agent
waited in the snow. Then the engineer said:
“I wanted to meet your husband, Mrs. Festing, and if we have any more
difficult work, hope you will let me have him again.”
“He came back the worse last time,” Helen answered smiling. “I'm not
sure I would have the courage to let him go. Besides, he has other work
at home. A farm makes many demands on one.”
“I have no doubt it does,” agreed the engineer. “One imagines that on
the Festing farm all demands will be met.”
He signed to the agent, the others went down the steps, and the bell
began to toll as the lighted cars rolled by. The rattle of wheels got
louder, and a plume of smoke trailed back and spread in a dingy cloud,
but Helen and Festing stood, a little way from the others, watching the
receding train. They felt that something was finished; satisfactorily
finished amidst well-earned praise, but done with for good. Festing
looked at Helen with a comprehending smile.
“You answered right; I'm not going back! Our work is waiting, here on
the plains.”
“Ah,” said Helen softly, “how much easier you make it when you call it
ours!”
They went to the hotel where they had left the team, and as the others
followed Sadie turned to her husband with a glow of happy pride. He had
come back, so to speak, triumphant, the guest of famous men who had said
flattering things about him, and for his sake the train had been held up
while the great contractor talked to her.
“Bob,” she said, “you have made good! I can't tell you all I feel about
it. Some day you'll be a famous man.”
End of Project Gutenberg's The Girl From Keller's, by Harold Bindloss