In another moment the horseman pulled up, and sat motionless in his saddle
with his head turned towards the house. Hetty could see him silhouetted,
shapeless and shadowy in his big fur-coat, against the whiteness of the
snow, and the relief she felt betrayed itself in her voice as she turned
to Miss Schuyler.
"Yes," she said, "it's Larry. There will be no more trouble now."
Flora Schuyler laughed a little breathless laugh, for though she also felt
the confidence her companion evinced, the strain had told on her.
"Of course," she said, "he knew you wanted him. There are men like that."
It was a simple tribute, but Hetty thrilled with pride. Larry was at least
consistent, and now, as it had been in the days both looked back upon, he
had come when she needed him. She also recognized even then that the fact
that he is generally to be found where he is wanted implies a good deal in
the favour of any man.
And now half-seen objects moved out from behind barn and stable, and the
horseman turned towards them. His voice rose sharply and commandingly.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
There was no answer for several moments, and then a man stepped forward
gesticulating fiercely as he commenced a tirade that was less than half
intelligible. Larry checked him with a lifted hand.
"There's a good deal of that I can't quite understand, and the rest
doesn't seem to fit this case," he said, with a laugh that had more effect
upon some of those who heard it than a flow of eloquence would have had.
"Boys, we have no use for worrying about the meanness of European kings
and folks of that kind. If you have brought any along I'd sooner listen to
sensible Americans."
Another man stepped forward, and there was no doubt about his accent,
though his tone was deprecatory.
"Well, it just comes to this," he said. "Torrance and the cattle-men have
done their best to starve us and freeze us out, and, since he has made it
plain that there's no room for both of us, somebody has got to go. Now, we
have come a long way and we mean to stay. We're not looking for trouble,
but we want our rights."
There was a murmur of encouragement from the rest, but again Larry's laugh
had its effect. "Then you're taking a kind of curious way of getting
them," he said. "I don't know that trying to burn folks' houses ever did
anybody much good, and it's quite likely to bring a regiment of United
States cavalry down on you. Mr. Torrance, I fancied I heard firing. Have
you anybody hurt inside?"
"One of your men," said Torrance drily. "We hope to pull him round, and
let the Sheriff have him."
It was not a conciliatory answer, and came near undoing what Grant had
accomplished; but the grim old cattle-baron was not the man to propitiate
an enemy. A murmur followed it, and somebody said, "Boys, you hear him!
Bring along that wagon. We're going in."
The form of speech was Western, but the voice was guttural, and when there
was a rattle of wheels Grant suddenly changed his tone.
"Stop right there," he said. "Throw every truss of hay down. The man who
holds off when I tell him what to do is going to have trouble with the
executive."
It was a bold venture, and any sign of effort or unevenness of inflection
would have rendered it futile, but the voice was sharp and ringing, and
the fashion in which the horseman flung up his arm commanding. It was,
also, tactful, for some of those who heard it had been drilled into
unreflecting obedience, and there is in the native American the respect
for a duly accredited leader, which discipline has further impressed upon
the Teuton. Still, those who watched from the window felt that this was
the crisis, and tightened their numbed fingers on the rifles, knowing that
if the horseman failed they would shortly need them again. None of them,
however, made any other movement, and Miss Schuyler, who, grasping Hetty's
hand, saw the dim figures standing rigid and intent, could only hear the
snapping of the stove.
"Hetty," she gasped, "I shall do something silly in another moment."
The tension only lasted a moment or two. A man sprang up on the pole of
the wagon, and a truss of hay went down. Another followed, and then, men
who had also felt the strain and now felt it a relief to do anything,
clustered about the wagon. In a few minutes it was empty, and the men who
had been a mob turned to the one who had changed them into an organized
body.
"What do you want now?" asked one of them.
"Run that wagon back where you got it from," said Larry.
It was done, and when the clustering figures vanished amidst a rattle of
wheels Torrance laid aside his rifle and sat down on the table.
"I guess there'll be no more trouble, boys. That's a thing there's not
many men could have done," he added.
His daughter also sat down in the nearest chair, with Flora Schuyler's
hand still within her own. She had been very still while the suspense
lasted, but she was trembling now, and her voice had a little quiver in it
as she said, "Wasn't he splendid, Flo?"
It was some minutes before Grant and the other men came back again, and
fragments of what he said were audible. "Then, you can pick out four men,
and we'll hear them at the committee. I have two or three questions to ask
you by and by. Half a dozen of you keep a look-out. The rest can get into
the stable out of the frost."
The men dispersed, and Grant turned towards the house. "I don't think you
need have any further anxiety, and you can shut that window if you want
to, Mr. Torrance."