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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3264-0.txt b/3264-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..74218f8 --- /dev/null +++ b/3264-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9283 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Dennison Grant, by Robert Stead + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dennison Grant + A Novel of To-day + +Author: Robert Stead + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3264] +Last Updated: November 19, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DENNISON GRANT *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +DENNISON GRANT + +A Novel of To-day + + +By Robert Stead + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +“Chuck at the Y.D. to-night, and a bed under the shingles,” shouted +Transley, waving to the procession to be off. + +Linder, foreman and head teamster, straightened up from the half load +of new hay in which he had been awaiting the final word, tightened the +lines, made an unique sound in his throat, and the horses pressed their +shoulders into the collars. Linder glanced back to see each wagon or +implement take up the slack with a jerk like the cars of a freight +train; the cushioned rumble of wagon wheels on the soft earth, and the +noisy chatter of the steel teeth of the hay-rakes came up from the rear. +Transley’s “outfit” was under way. + +Transley was a contractor; a master of men and of circumstances. Six +weeks before, the suspension of a grading order had left him high and +dry, with a dozen men and as many teams on his hands and hired for the +season. Transley galloped all that night into the foothills; when he +returned next evening he had a contract with the Y.D. to cut all the +hay from the ranch buildings to The Forks. By some deft touch of those +financial strings on which he was one day to become so skilled a player +Transley converted his dump scrapers into mowing machines, and three +days later his outfit was at work in the upper reaches of the Y.D. + +The contract had been decidedly profitable. Not an hour of broken +weather had interrupted the operations, and to-day, with two thousand +tons of hay in stack, Transley was moving down to the headquarters of +the Y.D. The trail lay along a broad valley, warded on either side by +ranges of foothills; hills which in any other country would have been +dignified by the name of mountains. From their summits the grey-green +up-tilted limestone protruded, whipped clean of soil by the chinooks of +centuries. Here and there on their northern slopes hung a beard of +scrub timber; sharp gulleys cut into their fastnesses to bring down the +turbulent waters of their snows. + +Some miles to the left of the trail lay the bed of the Y.D., fringed +with poplar and cottonwood and occasional dark green splashes of spruce. +Beyond the bed of the Y.D., beyond the foothills that looked down upon +it, hung the mountains themselves, their giant crests pitched like +mighty tents drowsing placidly between earth and heaven. Now their four +o’clock veil of blue-purple mist lay filmed about their shoulders, but +later they would stand out in bold silhouette cutting into the twilight +sky. Everywhere was the soft smell of new-mown hay; everywhere the +silences of the eternal, broken only by the muffled noises of Transley’s +outfit trailing down to the Y.D. + +Linder, foreman and head teamster, cushioned his shoulders against his +half load of hay and contemplated the scene with amiable satisfaction. +The hay fields of the foothills had been a pleasant change from the +railway grades of the plains below. Men and horses had fattened and +grown content, and the foreman had reason to know that Transley’s bank +account had profited by the sudden shift in his operations. Linder felt +in his pocket for pipe and matches; then, with a frown, withdrew his +fingers. He himself had laid down the law that there must be no smoking +in the hay fields. A carelessly dropped match might in an hour nullify +all their labor. + +Linder’s frown had scarce vanished when hoof-beats pounded by the side +of his wagon, and a rider, throwing himself lightly from his horse, +dropped beside him in the hay. + +“Thought I’d ride with you a spell, Lin. That Pete-horse acts like he +was goin’ sore on the off front foot. Chuck at the Y.D. to-night?” + +“That’s what Transley says, George, and he knows.” + +“Ever et at the Y.D?” + +“Nope.” + +“Know old Y.D?” + +“Only to know his name is good on a cheque, and they say he still throws +a good rope.” + +George wriggled to a more comfortable position in the hay. He had a +feeling that he was approaching a delicate subject with consummate +skill. After a considerable silence he continued-- + +“They say that’s quite a girl old Y.D.’s got.” + +“Oh,” said Linder, slowly. The occasion of the soreness in that +Pete-horse’s off front foot was becoming apparent. + +“You better stick to Pete,” Linder continued. “Women is most uncertain +critters.” + +“Don’t I know it?” chuckled George, poking the foreman’s ribs +companionably with his elbow. “Don’t I know it?” he repeated, as his +mind apparently ran back over some reminiscence that verified Linder’s +remark. It was evident from the pleasant grimaces of George’s face that +whatever he had suffered from the uncertain sex was forgiven. + +“Say, Lin,” he resumed after another pause, and this time in a more +confidential tone, “do you s’pose Transley’s got a notion that way?” + +“Shouldn’t wonder. Transley always knows what he’s doing, and why. Y.D. +must be worth a million or so, and the girl is all he’s got to leave +it to. Besides all that, no doubt she’s well worth having on her own +account.” + +“Well, I’m sorry for the boss,” George replied, with great soberness. “I +alus hate to disappoint the boss.” + +“Huh!” said Linder. He knew George Drazk too well for further comment. +After his unlimited pride in and devotion to his horse, George gave his +heart unreservedly to womankind. He suffered from no cramping niceness +in his devotions; that would have limited the play of his passion; to +him all women were alike--or nearly so. And no number of rebuffs could +convince George that he was unpopular with the objects of his democratic +affections. Such a conclusion was, to him, too absurd to be entertained, +no matter how many experiences might support it. If opportunity offered +he doubtless would propose to Y.D.’s daughter that very night--and get a +boxed ear for his pains. + +The Y.D. creek had crossed its valley, shouldering close against the +base of the foothills to the right. Here the current had created a +precipitous cutbank, and to avoid it and the stream the trail wound over +the side of the hill. As they crested a corner the silver ribbon of the +Y.D. was unravelled before them, and half a dozen miles down its +course the ranch buildings lay clustered in a grove of cottonwoods and +evergreens. All the great valley lay warm and pulsating in a flood +of yellow sunshine; the very earth seemed amorous and content in the +embrace of sun and sky. The majesty of the view seized even the unpoetic +souls of Linder and Drazk, and because they had no other means of +expression they swore vaguely and relapsed into silence. + +Hoof-beats again sounded by the wagon side. It was Transley. + +“Oh, here you are, Drazk. How long do you reckon it would take you to +ride down to the Y.D. on that Pete-horse?” Transley was a leader of men. + +Drazk’s eyes sparkled at the subtle compliment to his horse. + +“I tell you, Boss,” he said, “if there’s any jackrabbits in the road +they’ll get tramped on.” + +“I bet they will,” said Transley, genially. “Well, you just slide down +and tell Y.D. we’re coming in. She’s going to be later than I figured, +but I can’t hurry the work horses. You know that, Drazk.” + +“Sure I do, Boss,” said Drazk, springing into his saddle. “Just watch +me lose myself in the dust.” Then, to himself, “Here’s where I beat the +boss to it.” + +The sun had fallen behind the mountains, the valley was filled with +shadow, the afterglow, mauve and purple and copper, was playing far up +the sky when Transley’s outfit reached the Y.D. corrals. George Drazk +had opened the gate and waited beside it. + +“Y.D. wants you an’ Linder to eat with him at the house,” he said as +Transley halted beside him. “The rest of us eat in the bunk-house.” + There was something strangely modest in Drazk’s manner. + +“Had yours handed to you already?” Linder managed to banter in a low +voice as they swung through the gate. + +“Hell!” protested Mr. Drazk. “A fellow that ain’t a boss or a foreman +don’t get a look-in. Never even seen her.... Come, you Pete-horse!” It +was evident George had gone back to his first love. + +The wagons drew up in the yard, and there was a fine jingle of harness +as the teamsters quickly unhitched. Y.D. himself approached through the +dusk; his large frame and confident bearing were unmistakable even in +that group of confident, vigorous men. + +“Glad to see you, Transley,” he said cordially. “You done well out +there. ‘So, Linder! You made a good job of it. Come up to the house--I +reckon the Missus has supper waitin’. We’ll find a room for you up +there, too; it’s different from bein’ under canvas.” + +So saying, and turning the welfare of the men and the horses over to +his foreman, the rancher led Transley and Linder along a path through a +grove of cottonwoods, across a footbridge where from underneath came the +babble of water, to “the house,” marked by a yellow light which poured +through the windows and lost itself in the shadow of the trees. + +The nucleus of the house was the log cabin where Y.D. and his wife had +lived in their first married years. With the passage of time additions +had been built to every side which offered a point of contact, but the +log cabin still remained the family centre, and into it Transley and +Linder were immediately admitted. The poplar floor had long since worn +thin, save at the knots, and had been covered with edge-grained fir, but +otherwise the cabin stood as it had for twenty years, the white-washed +logs glowing in the light of two bracket lamps and the reflections from +a wood fire which burned merrily in the stove. The skins of a grizzly +bear and a timber wolf lay on the floor, and two moose heads looked down +from opposite ends of the room. On the walls hung other trophies won by +Y.D.’s rifle, along with hand-made bits of harness, lariats, and other +insignia of the ranchman’s trade. + +The rancher took his guests’ hats, and motioned each to a seat. +“Mother,” he said, directing his voice into an adjoining room, “here’s +the boys.” + +In a moment “Mother” appeared drying her hands. In her appearance were +courage, resourcefulness, energy,--fit mate for the man who had made the +Y.D. known in every big cattle market of the country. As Linder’s eye +caught her and her husband in the same glance his mind involuntarily +leapt to the suggestion of what the offspring of such a pair must be. +The men of the cattle country have a proper appreciation of heredity.... + +“My wife--Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder,” said the rancher, with a +courtliness which sat strangely on his otherwise rough-and-ready speech. +“I been tellin’ her the fine job you boys has made in the hay fields, +an’ I reckon she’s got a bite of supper waitin’ you.” + +“Y.D. has been full of your praises,” said the woman. There was a touch +of culture in her manner as she received them, which Y.D.’s hospitality +did not disclose. + +She led them into another room, where a table was set for five. Linder +experienced a tang of happy excitement as he noted the number. Linder +allowed himself no foolishness about women, but, as he sometimes sagely +remarked to George Drazk, you never can tell what might happen. He shot +a quick glance at Transley, but the contractor’s face gave no sign. Even +as he looked Linder thought what an able face it was. Transley was not +more than twenty-six, but forcefulness, assertion, ability, stood in +every line of his clean-cut features. He was such a man as to capture at +a blow the heart of old Y.D., perhaps of Y.D.’s daughter. + +“Where’s Zen?” demanded the rancher. + +“She’ll be here presently,” his wife replied. “We don’t have Mr. +Transley and Mr. Linder every night, you know,” she added, with a smile. + +“Dolling up,” thought Linder. “Trust a woman never to miss a bet.” + +But at that moment a door opened, and the girl appeared. She did not +burst upon them, as Linder had half expected; she slipped quietly and +gracefully into their presence. She was dressed in black, in a costume +which did not too much conceal the charm of her figure, and the +nut-brown lustre of her face and hair played against the sober +background of her dress with an effect that was almost dazzling. + +“My daughter, Zen,” said Y.D. “Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder.” + +She shook hands frankly, first with Transley, then with Linder, as +had been the order of the introduction. In her manner was neither the +shyness which sometimes marks the women of remote settlements, nor the +boldness so readily bred of outdoor life. She gave the impression of one +who has herself, and the situation, in hand. + +“We’re always glad to have guests at the Y.D.” she was saying. “We live +so far from everywhere.” + +Linder thought that a strange peg on which to hang their welcome. But +she was continuing-- + +“And you have been so successful, haven’t you? You have made quite a hit +with Dad.” + +“How about Dad’s daughter?” asked Transley. Transley had a manner of +direct and forceful action. These were his first words to her. Linder +would not have dared be so precipitate. + +“Perhaps,” thought Linder to himself, as he turned the incident over in +his mind, “perhaps that is why Transley is boss, and I’m just foreman.” + The young woman’s behavior seemed to support that conclusion. She did +not answer Transley’s question, but she gave no evidence of displeasure. + +“You boys must be hungry,” Y.D. was saying. “Pile in.” + +The rancher and his wife sat at the ends of the table; Transley on the +side at Y.D.’s right; Linder at Transley’s right. In the better light +Linder noted Y.D.’s face. It was the face of a man of fifty, possibly +sixty. Life in the open plays strange tricks with the appearance. Some +men it ages before their time; others seem to tap a spring of perpetual +youth. Save for the grey moustache and the puckerings about the eyes +Y.D.’s was still a young man’s face. Then, as the rancher turned his +head, Linder noted a long scar, as of a burn, almost grown over in the +right cheek.... Across the table from them sat the girl, impartially +dividing her position between the two. + +A Chinese boy served soup, and the rancher set the example by “piling +in” without formality. Eight hours in the open air between meals is a +powerful deterrent of table small-talk. Then followed a huge joint +of beef, from which Y.D. cut generous slices with swift and dexterous +strokes of a great knife, and the Chinese boy added the vegetables from +a side table. As the meat disappeared the call of appetite became less +insistent. + +“She’s been a great summer, ain’t she?” said the rancher, laying down +his knife and fork and lifting the carver. “Transley, some more meat? +Pshaw, you ain’t et enough for a chicken. Linder? That’s right, pass +up your plate. Powerful dry, though. That’s only a small bit; here’s +a better slice here. Dry summers gen’rally mean open winters, but you +can’t never tell. Zen, how ‘bout you? Old Y.D.’s been too long on the +job to take chances. Mother? How much did you say, Transley? About two +thousand tons? Not enough. Don’t care if I do,”--helping himself to +another piece of beef. + +“I think you’ll find two thousand tons, good hay and good measurement,” + said Transley. + +“I’m sure of it,” rejoined his host, generously. “I’m carryin’ more +steers than usual, and’ll maybe run in a bunch of doggies from Manitoba +to boot. I got to have more hay.” + +So the meal progressed, the rancher furnishing both the hospitality and +the conversation. Transley occasionally broke in to give assent to +some remark, but his interruption was quite unnecessary. It was Y.D.’s +practice to take assent for granted. Once or twice the women interjected +a lead to a different subject of conversation in which their words would +have carried greater authority, but Y.D. instantly swung it back to the +all-absorbing topic of hay. + +The Chinese boy served a pudding of some sort, and presently the meal +was ended. + +“She’s been a dry summer--powerful dry,” said the rancher, with a wink +at his guests. “Zen, I think there’s a bit of gopher poison in there +yet, ain’t there?” + +The girl left the room without remark, returning shortly with a jug and +glasses, which she placed before her father. + +“I suppose you wear a man’s size, Transley,” he said, pouring out a big +drink of brown liquor, despite Transley’s deprecating hand. “Linder, how +many fingers? Two? Well, we’ll throw in the thumb. Y.D? If you please, +just a little snifter. All set?” + +The rancher rose to his feet, and the company followed his example. + +“Here’s ho!--and more hay,” he said, genially. + +“Ho!” said Linder. + +“The daughter of the Y.D!” said Transley, looking across the table at +the girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white teeth, she +raised an empty glass and clinked it against his. + +The men drained their glasses and re-seated themselves, but the women +remained standing. + +“Perhaps you will excuse us now,” said the rancher’s wife. “You will +wish to talk over business. Y.D. will show you upstairs, and we will +expect you to be with us for breakfast.” + +With a bow she left the room, followed by her daughter. Linder had a +sense of being unsatisfied; it was as though a ravishing meal has been +placed before a hungry man, and only its aroma had reached his senses +when it had been taken away. Well, it provoked the appetite-- + +The rancher re-filled the glasses, but Transley left his untouched, and +Linder did the same. There were business matters to discuss, and it was +no fair contest to discuss business in the course of a drinking bout +with an old stager like Y.D. + +“I got to have another thousand tons,” the rancher was saying. “Can’t +take chances on any less, and I want you boys to put it up for me.” + +“Suits me,” said Transley, “if you’ll show me where to get the hay.” + +“You know the South Y.D?” + +“Never been on it.” + +“Well, it’s a branch of the Y.D. which runs south-east from The Forks. +Guess it got its name from me, because I built my first cabin at The +Forks. That was about the time you was on a milk diet, Transley, and +us old-timers had all outdoors to play with. You see, the Y.D. is a +cantank’rous stream, like its godfather. At The Forks you’d nat’rally +suppose is where two branches joined, an’ jogged on henceforth in double +harness. Well, that ain’t it at all. This crick has modern ideas, an’ +at The Forks it divides itself into two, an’ she hikes for the Gulf o’ +Mexico an’ him for Hudson’s Bay. As I was sayin’, I built my first cabin +at The Forks--a sort o’ peek-a-boo cabin it was, where the wolves usta +come an’ look in at nights. Well, I usta look out through the same +holes. I had the advantage o’ usin’ language, an’ I reckon we was about +equal scared. There was no wife or kid in those days.” + +The rancher paused, took a long draw on his pipe, and his eyes glowed +with the light of old recollections. + +“Well, as I was sayin’,” he continued presently, “folks got to callin’ +the stream the Y.D., after me. That’s what you get for bein’ first on +the ground--a monument for ever an ever. This bein’ the main stream got +the name proper, an’ the other branch bein’ smallest an’ running kind +o’ south nat’rally got called the South Y.D. I run stock in both valleys +when I was at The Forks, but not much since I came down here. Well, +there’s maybe a thousand tons o’ hay over in the South Y.D., an’ you +boys better trail over there to-morrow an’ pitch into it--that is, if +you’re satisfied with the price I’m payin’ you.” + +“The price is all right,” said Transley, “and we’ll hit the trail at +sun-up. There’ll be no trouble--no confliction of interests, I mean?” + +“Whose interests?” demanded the rancher, beligerently. “Ain’t I the +father of the Y.D? Ain’t the whole valley named for me? When it comes to +interests--” + +“Of course,” Transley agreed, “but I just wanted to know how things +stood in case we ran up against something. It’s not like the old days, +when a rancher would rather lose twenty-five per cent. of his stock +over winter than bother putting up hay. Hay land is getting to be worth +money, and I just want to know where we stand.” + +“Quite proper,” said Y.D., “quite proper. An’ now the matter’s under +discussion, I’ll jus’ show you my hand. There’s a fellow named Landson +down the valley of the South Y.D. that’s been flirtin’ with that hay +meadow for years, but he ain’t got no claim to it. I was first on the +ground an’ I cut it whenever I feel like it an’ I’m goin’ to go on +cuttin’ it. If anybody comes out raisin’ trouble, you just shoo ‘em off, +an’ go on cuttin’ that hay, spite o’ hell an’ high water. Y.D.’ll stand +behind you.” + +“Thanks,” said Transley. “That’s what I wanted to know.” + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The rancher had ridden into the Canadian plains country from below “the +line” long before barbed wire had become a menace in cattle-land. From +Pincher Creek to Maple Creek, and far beyond, the plains lay unbroken +save by the deep canyons where, through the process of ages, mountain +streams had worn their beds down to gravel bottoms, and by the +occasional trail which wandered through the wilderness like some +thousand-mile lariat carelessly dropped from the hand of the Master +Plainsman. Here and there, where the cutbanks of the river Canyons +widened out into sloping valleys, affording possible access to the +deep-lying streams, some ranchman had established his headquarters, and +his red-roofed, whitewashed buildings flashed back the hot rays which +fell from an opalescent heaven. At some of the more important fords +trading posts had come into being, whither the ranchmen journeyed twice +a year for groceries, clothing, kerosene, and other liquids handled as +surreptitiously as the vigilance of the Mounted Police might suggest. +The virgin prairie, with her strange, subtle facility for entangling the +hearts of men, lay undefiled by the mercenary plowshare; unprostituted +by the commercialism of the days that were to be. + +Into such a country Y.D. had ridden from the South, trailing his little +bunch of scrub heifers, in search of grass and water and, it may be, of +a new environment. Up through the Milk River country; across the Belly +and the Old Man; up and down the valley of the Little Bow, and across +the plains as far as the Big Bow he rode in search of the essentials of +a ranch headquarters. The first of these is water, the second grass, +the third fuel, the fourth shelter. Grass there was everywhere; a fine, +short, hairy crop which has the peculiar quality of self-curing in the +autumn sunshine and so furnishing a natural, uncut hay for the herds +in the winter months. Water there was only where the mountain streams +plowed their canyons through the deep subsoil, or at little lakes of +surface drainage, or, at rare intervals, at points where pure springs +broke forth from the hillsides. Along the river banks dark, crumbling +seams exposed coal resources which solved all questions of fuel, +and fringes of cottonwood and poplar afforded rough but satisfactory +building material. As the rancher sat on his horse on a little knoll +which overlooked a landscape leading down on one side to a sheltering +bluff by the river, and on the other losing itself on the rim of the +heavens, no fairer prospect surely could have met his eye. + +And yet he was not entirely satisfied. He was looking for no temporary +location, but for a spot where he might drive his claim-stakes deep. +That prairie, which stretched under the hot sunshine unbroken to the rim +of heaven; that brown grass glowing with an almost phosphorescent light +as it curled close to the mother sod;--a careless match, a cigar stub, a +bit of gun-wadding, and in an afternoon a million acres of pasture land +would carry not enough foliage to feed a gopher. + +Y.D. turned in his saddle. Along the far western sky hung the purple +draperies of the Rockies. For fifty miles eastward from the mighty range +lay the country of the foothills, its great valleys lost to the vision +which leapt only from summit to summit. In the clear air the peaks +themselves seemed not a dozen miles away, but Y.D. had not ridden +cactus, sagebrush and prairie from the Rio Grande to the St. Mary’s for +twenty years to be deceived by a so transparent illusion. Far over +the plains his eye could trace the dark outline of a trail leading +mountainward. + +The heifers drowsed lazily in the brown grass. Y.D., shading his eyes +the better with his hand, gazed long and thoughtfully at the purple +range. Then he spat decisively over his horse’s shoulder and made a +strange “cluck” in his throat. The knowing animal at once set out on +a trot to stir the lazy heifers into movement, and presently they were +trailing slowly up into the foothill country. + +Far up, where the trail ahead apparently dropped over the end of the +world, a horse and rider hove in view. They came on leisurely, and half +an hour elapsed before they met the rancher trailing west. + +The stranger was a rancher of fifty, wind-whipped and weather-beaten of +countenance. The iron grey of his hair and moustache suggested the iron +of the man himself; iron of figure, of muscle, of will. + +“‘Day,” he said, affably, coming to a halt a few feet from Y.D. +“Trailing into the foothills?” + +Y.D. lolled in his saddle. His attitude did not invite conversation, +and, on the other hand, intimated no desire to avoid it. + +“Maybe,” he said, noncommittally. Then, relaxing somewhat,--“Any water +farther up?” + +“About eight miles. Sundown should see you there, and there’s a decent +spot to camp. You’re a stranger here?” The older man was evidently +puzzling over the big “Y.D.” branded on the ribs of the little herd. + +“It’s a big country,” Y.D. answered. “It’s a plumb big country, for +sure, an’ I guess a man can be a stranger in some corners of it, can’t +he?” + +Y.D. began to resent the other man’s close scrutiny of his brand. + +“Well, what’s wrong with it?” he demanded. + +“Oh, nothing. No offense. I just wondered what ‘Y.D.’ might stand for.” + +“Might stand for Yankee devil,” said Y.D., with a none-of-your-business +curl of his lip. But he had carried his curtness too far, and was not +prepared for the quick retort. + +“Might also stand for yellow dog, and be damned to you!” The stranger’s +strong figure sat up stern and knit in his saddle. + +Y.D.’s hand went to his hip, but the other man was unarmed. You can’t +draw on a man who isn’t armed. + +“Listen!” the older man continued, in sharp, clear-cut notes. “You are +a stranger not only to our trails, but our customs. You are a young man. +Let me give you some advice. First--get rid of that artillery. It will +do you more harm than good. And second, when a stranger speaks to you +civilly, answer him the same. My name is Wilson--Frank Wilson, and if +you settle in the foothills you’ll find me a decent neighbor, as soon as +you are able to appreciate decency.” + +To his own great surprise, Y.D. took his dressing down in silence. There +was a poise in Wilson’s manner that enforced respect. He recognized in +him the English rancher of good family; usually a man of fine courtesy +within reasonable bounds; always a hard hitter when those bounds are +exceeded. Y.D. knew that he had made at least a tactical blunder; +his sensitiveness about his brand would arouse, rather than allay, +suspicion. His cheeks burned with a heat not of the afternoon sun as +he submitted to this unaccustomed discipline, but he could not bring +himself to express regret for his rudeness. + +“Well, now that the shower is over, we’ll move on,” he said, turning his +back on Wilson and “clucking” to his horse. + +Y.D. followed the stream which afterwards bore his name as far as the +Upper Forks. As he entered the foothills he found all the advantages +of the plains below, with others peculiar to the foothill country. The +richer herbage, induced by a heavier precipitation; the occasional belts +of woodland; the rugged ravines and limestone ridges affording +good natural protection against fire; abundant fuel and water +everywhere--these seemed to constitute the ideal ranch conditions. At +the Upper Forks, through some freak of formation, the stream divided +into two. From this point was easy access into the valleys of the Y.D. +and the South Y.D., as they were subsequently called. The stream rippled +over beds of grey gravel, and mountain trout darted from the rancher’s +shadow as it fell across the water. Up the valley, now ruddy gold with +the changing colors of autumn, white-capped mountains looked down from +amid the infinite silences; and below, broad vistas of brown prairie +and silver ribbons of running water. Y.D. turned his swarthy face to +the sunlight and took in the scene slowly, deliberately, but with a +commercialized eye; blue and white and ruddy gold were nothing to him; +his heart was set on grass and water and shelter. He had roved enough, +and he had a reason for seeking some secluded spot like this, where he +could settle down while his herds grew up, and, perhaps, forget some +things that were better forgotten. + +With sudden decision the cattle man threw himself from his horse, +unstrapped the little kit of supplies which he carried by the saddle; +drew off saddle and bridle and turned the animal free. The die was cast; +this was the spot. Within ten minutes his ax was ringing in the grove of +spruce trees close by, and the following night he fried mountain trout +under the shelter of his own temporary roof. + +It was the next summer when Y.D. had another encounter with Wilson. The +Upper Forks turned out to be less secluded than he had supposed; it was +on the trail of trappers and prospectors working into the mountains. +Traders, too, in mysterious commodities, moved mysteriously back and +forth, and the log cabin at The Forks became something of a centre of +interest. Strange companies forgathered within its rude walls. + +It was at such a gathering, in which Y.D. and three companions sat about +the little square table, that one of the visitors facetiously inquired +of the rancher how his herd was progressing. + +“Not so bad, not so bad,” said Y.D., casually. “Some winter losses, of +course; snow’s too deep this far up. Why?” + +“Oh, some of your neighbors down the valley say your cows are uncommon +prolific.” + +“They do?” said Y.D., laying down his cards. “Who says that?” + +“Well, Wilson, for instance--” + +Y.D. sprang to his feet. “I’ve had one run-in with that ----,” he +shouted, “an’ I let him talk to me like a Sunday School super’ntendent. +Here’s where I talk to him!” + +“Well, finish the game first,” the others protested. “The night’s +young.” + +Y.D. was sufficiently drunk to be supersensitive about his honor, and +the inference from Wilson’s remark was that he was too handy with his +branding-iron. + +“No, boys, no!” he protested. “I’ll make that Englishman eat his words +or choke on them.” + +“That’s right,” the company agreed. “The only thing to do. We’ll all go +down with you.” + +“An’ you won’t do that, neither,” Y.D. answered. “Think I need a +body-guard for a little chore like that? Huh!” There was immeasurable +contempt in that monosyllable. + +But a fresh bottle was produced, and Y.D. was persuaded that his honor +would suffer no serious damage until the morning. Before that time his +company, with many demonstrations of affection and admonitions to “make +a good job of it,” left for the mountains. + +Y.D. saddled his horse early, buckled his gun on his hip, hung a lariat +from his saddle, and took the trail for the Wilson ranch. During the +drinking and gambling of the night he had been able to keep the insult +in the background, but, alone under the morning sun, it swept over him +and stung him to fury. There was just enough truth in the report to +demand its instant suppression. + +Wilson was branding calves in his corral as Y.D. came up. He was alone +save for a girl of eighteen who tended the fire. + +Wilson looked up with a hot iron in his hand, nodded, then turned to +apply the iron before it cooled. As he leaned over the calf Y.D. swung +his lariat. It fell true over the Englishman, catching him about the +arms and the middle of the body. Y.D. took a half-hitch of the lariat +about his saddle horn, and the well-trained horse dragged his victim in +the most matter-of-fact manner out of the gate of the corral and into +the open. + +Y.D. shortened the line. After the first moment of confused surprise +Wilson tried to climb to his feet, but a quick jerk of the lariat sent +him prostrate again. In a moment Y.D. had taken up all the line, and sat +in his saddle looking down contemptuously upon him. + +“Well,” he said, “who’s too handy with his branding-iron now?” + +“You are!” cried Wilson. “Give me a man’s chance and I’ll thrash you +here and now to prove it.” + +For answer Y.D. clucked to his horse and dragged his enemy a few yards +farther. “How’s the goin’, Frank?” he said, in mock cordiality. “Think +you can stand it as far as the crick?” + +But at that instant an unexpected scene flashed before Y.D. He caught +just a glimpse of it--just enough to indicate what might happen. The +girl who had been tending the fire was rushing upon him with a red-hot +iron extended before her. Quicker than he could throw himself from the +saddle she had struck him in the face with it. + +“You brand our calves!” she cried in a fury of recklessness. “I’ll brand +YOU--damn you!” + +Y.D. threw himself from the saddle, but in the suddenness of her +onslaught he failed to clear it properly, and stumbled to the ground. In +a moment she was on him and had whipped his gun from his belt. + +“Get up!” she said. And he got up. + +“Walk to that post, put your arms around it with your back to me, and +stand there.” He did so. + +The girl kept him covered with the revolver while she released the +lariat that bound her father. + +“Are you hurt, Dad?” she inquired solicitously. + +“No, just shaken up,” he answered, scrambling to his feet. + +“All right. Now we’ll fix him!” + +The girl walked to the next post from Y.D.’s, climbed it leisurely and +seated herself on the top. + +“Now, Mr. Y.D.,” she said, “you are going to fight like a white man, +with your fists. I’ll sit up here and see that there’s no dirty work. +First, advance and shake hands.” + +“I’m damned if I will,” said Y.D. + +The revolver spoke, and the bullet cut dangerously close to him. + +“Don’t talk back to me again,” she cried, “or you won’t be able to +fight. Now shake hands.” + +He extended his hand and Wilson took it for a moment. + +“Now when I count three,” said the girl, “pile in. There’s no time +limit. Fight ‘til somebody’s satisfied. One--two--three--” + +At the sound of the last word Wilson caught his opponent a punch on the +chin which stretched him. He got up slowly, gathering his wits about +him. He was twenty years younger than Wilson, but a rancher of fifty +is occasionally a better man than he was at thirty. Any disadvantages +Wilson suffered from being shaken up in the lariat were counterbalanced +by Y.D.’s branding. His face was burning painfully, and his vision was +not the best. But he had not followed the herds since childhood without +learning to use his fists. He steadied himself on his knee to bring his +mind into tune with this unusual warfare. Then he rushed upon Wilson. + +He received another straight knock-out on the chin. It jarred the joints +of his neck and left him dazed. It was half a minute before he could +steady himself. He realized now that he had a fight on his hands. He was +too cool a head to get into a panic, but he found he must take his time +and do some brain work. Another chin smash would put him out for good. + +He advanced carefully. Wilson stood awaiting him, a picture of poise and +self-confidence. Y.D. led a quick left to Wilson’s ribs, but failed +to land. Wilson parried skilfully and immediately answered with a left +swing to the chin. But Y.D. was learning, and this time he was on guard. +He dodged the blow, broke in and seized Wilson about the body. The two +men stood for a moment like bulls with locked horns. Y.D. brought his +weight to bear on his antagonist to force him to the ground, but in some +way the Englishman got elbow room and began raining short jabs on his +face, already raw from the branding-iron. Y.D. jerked back from this +assault. Then came the third smash on the chin. + +Y.D. gathered himself up very slowly. The world was swimming around in +circles. On a post sat a girl, covering him with a revolver and laughing +at him. Somewhere on the horizon Wilson’s figure whipped forward and +back. Then his horse came into the circle. Y.D. rose to his feet, strode +with quick, uncertain steps to his horse, threw himself into the saddle +and without a word started up the trail to The Forks. + +“Seems to have gone with as little ceremony as he came,” Wilson remarked +to his daughter. “Now, let us get along with the calves.”... + +Y.D. rode the trail to The Forks in bitterness of spirit. He had sallied +forth that morning strong and daring to administer summary punishment; +he was retracing his steps thrashed, humiliated, branded for life by a +red iron thrust in his face by a slip of a girl. He exhausted his by +no means limited vocabulary of epithets, but even his torrents of abuse +brought no solace to him. The hot sun beat down on his wounded face +and hurt terribly, but he almost forgot that pain in the agony of his +humiliation. He had been thrashed by an old man, with a wisp of a girl +sitting on a post and acting as referee. He turned in his saddle and +through the empty valley shouted an insulting name at her. + +Then Y.D. slowly began to feel his face burn with a fire not of the +branding-iron nor of the afternoon sun. He knew that his word was a lie. +He knew that he would not have dared use it in her father’s hearing. He +knew that he was a coward. No man had ever called Y.D. a coward; no +man had ever known him for a coward; he had never known himself as +such--until to-day. With all his roughness Y.D. had a sense of honor +as keen as any razor blade. If he allowed himself wide latitude in some +matters it was because he had lived his life in an atmosphere where the +wide latitude was the thing. The prairie had been his bed, the sky his +roof, himself his own policeman, judge, and executioner since boyhood. +When responsibility is so centralized wide latitudes must be allowed. +But the uttermost borders of that latitude were fixed with iron +rigidity, and when he had thrown a vile epithet at a decent woman he +knew he had broken the law of honor. He was a cur--a cur who should be +shot in his tracks for the cur he was. + +Y.D. did hard thinking all the way to The Forks. Again and again the +figure of the girl flashed before him; he would close his eyes and jerk +his head back to avoid the burning iron. Then he saw her on the post, +sitting, with apparent impartiality, on guard over the fight. Yes, +she had been impartial, in a way. Y.D. was willing to admit that much, +although he surmised that she knew more about her father’s prowess with +his fists than he had known. She had had no doubt about the outcome. + +“Well, she’s good backing for her old man, anyway,” he admitted, with +returning generosity. He had reached his cabin, and was dressing his +face with salve and soda. “She sure played the game into the old man’s +hand.” + +Y.D. could not sleep that night. He was busy sorting up his ideas of +life and revising them in the light of the day’s experience. The more he +thought of his behavior the less defensible it appeared. By midnight he +was admitting that he had got just what was coming to him. + +Presently he began to feel lonely. It was a strange sensation to Y.D., +whose life had been loneliness from the first, so that he had never +known it. Of course, there was the hunger for companionship; he had +often known that. A drinking bout, a night at cards, a whirl into +excess, and that would pass away. But this loneliness was different. The +moan of the wind in the spruce trees communicated itself to him with an +eerie oppressiveness. He sat up and lit a lamp. The light fell on the +bare logs of his hut; he had never known before how bare they were. He +got up and shuffled about; took a lid off the stove and put it back on +again; moved aimlessly about the room, and at last sat down on the bed. + +“Y.D.,” he said with a laugh, “I believe you’ve got nerves. You’re +behavin’ like a woman.” + +But he could not laugh it off. The mention of a woman brought Wilson’s +daughter back vividly before him. “She’s a man’s girl,” he found +himself, saying. + +He sat up with a shock at his own words. Then he rested his chin on his +hands and gazed long at the blank wall before him. That was life--his +life. That blank wall was his life.... If only it had a window in it; a +bright space through which the vision could catch a glimpse of something +broader and better.... Well, he could put a window in it. He could put a +window in his life. + +The next noon Frank Wilson looked up with surprise to see Y.D. riding +into his yard. Wilson stiffened instantly, as though setting himself +against the shock of an attack, but there was nothing belligerent in +Y.D.’s greeting. + +“Wilson,” he said, “I pulled a dirty trick on you yesterday, an’ I got +more than I reckoned on. The old Y.D. would have come back with a gun +for vengeance. Well, I ain’t after vengeance. I reckon you an’ me has +got to live in this valley, an’ we might as well live peaceful. Does +that go with you?” + +“Full weight and no shrinkage,” said Wilson, heartily, extending his +hand. “Come up to the house for dinner.” + +Y.D. was nothing loth to accept the invitation, even though he had his +misgivings as to how he should meet the women folks. It turned out that +Mrs. Wilson had been at a neighboring ranch for some days, and the girl +was in charge of the home. The flash in her eyes did not conceal a glint +of triumph--or was it humor? + +“Jessie,” her father said, with conspicuous matter-of-factness, “Y.D. +has just dropped in for dinner.” + +Y.D. stood with his hat in his hand. This was harder than meeting +Wilson. He felt that he could manage better if Wilson would get out. + +“Miss Wilson,” he managed to say at length, “I just thought I’d run in +an’ thank you for what you did yesterday.” + +“You’re very welcome,” she answered, and he could not tell whether +the note in her voice was of fun or sarcasm. “Any time I can be of +service--” + +“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” he broke in. There was something +bewitching about the girl. She more than realized his fantastic visions +of the night. She had mastered him. Perhaps it was a subtle masculine +desire to turn her mastery into ultimate surrender that led him on. + +“That’s just what I want to talk about. You started breakin’ in an +outlaw yesterday, so to speak. How’d you like to finish the job?” + +Y.D. was very red when this speech was finished. He had not known that a +wisp of a girl could so discomfit a man. + +“Is that a proposal?” she asked, and this time he was sure the note in +her voice was one of banter. “I never had one, so I don’t know.” + +“Well, yes, we’ll call it that,” he said, with returning courage. + +“Well we won’t, either,” she flared back. “Just because I sat on a post +and superintended the--the ceremonies, is no reason that you should want +to marry me,--or I, you. You’ll find water and a basin on the bench at +the end of the house, and dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” + +Y.D. had a feeling of a little boy being sent to wash himself. + +But the next spring he built a larger cabin down the valley from The +Forks, and to that cabin one day in June came Jessie Wilson to “finish +the job.” + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Transley and Linder were so early about on the morning after their +conversation with Y.D. that there was no opportunity of another meeting +with the rancher’s wife or daughter. They were slipping quietly out of +the house to take breakfast with the men when Y.D. intercepted them. + +“Breakfast is waitin’, boys,” he said, and led them back into the room +where they had had supper the previous evening. Y.D. ate with them, but +the meal was served by the Chinese boy. + +In the yard all was jingling excitement. The men of the Y.D. were +fraternally assisting Transley’s gang in hitching up and getting away, +and there was much bustling activity to an accompaniment of friendly +profanity. It was not yet six o’clock, but the sun was well up over the +eastern ridges that fringed the valley, and to the west the snow-capped +summits of the mountains shone like polished ivory. The exhilaration in +the air was almost intoxicating. + +Linder quickly converted the apparent chaos of horses, wagons and +implements into order; Transley had a last word with Y.D., and the +rancher, shouting “Good luck, boys! Make it a thousand tons or more,” + waved them away. + +Linder glanced back at the house. The bright sunshine had not awakened +it; it lay dreaming in its grove of cool, green trees. + +The trail lay, not up the valley, but across the wedge of foothills +which divided the South Y.D. from the parent stream. The assent was +therefore much more rapid than the trails which followed the general +course of the stream. Huge hills, shouldering together, left at times +only wagon-track room between; at other places they skirted dangerous +cutbanks worn by spring freshets, and again trekked for long distances +over gently curving uplands. In an hour the horses were showing the +strain of it, and Linder halted them for a momentary rest. + +It was at that moment that Drazk rode up, his face a study in obvious +annoyance. + +“Danged if I ain’t left that Pete-horse’s blanket down at the Y.D.,” he +exclaimed. + +“Oh, well, you can easily ride back for it and catch up on us this +afternoon,” said Linder, who was not in the least deceived. + +“Thanks, Lin,” said Drazk. “I’ll beat it down an’ catch up on you +this afternoon, sure,” and he was off down the trail as fast as “that +Pete-horse” could carry him. + +At the Y.D. George conducted the search for his horse blanket in the +strangest places. It took him mainly about the yard of the house, and +even to the kitchen door, where he interviewed the Chinese boy. + +“You catchee horse blanket around here?” he inquired, with appropriate +gesticulations. + +“You losee hoss blanket?” + +“Yep.” + +“What kind hoss blanket?” + +“Jus’ a brown blanket for that Pete-horse.” + +“Whose hoss?” + +“Mine,” proudly. + +“Where you catchee?” + +“Raised him.” + +“Good hoss?” + +“You betcha.” + +“Huh!” + +Pause. + +“You no catchee horse blanket, hey?” + +“No!” said the Chinaman, whose manner instantly changed. In this brief +conversation he had classified Drazk, and classified him correctly. “You +catchee him, though--some hell, too--you stickee lound here. Beat it,” + and Drazk found the kitchen door closed in his face. + +Drazk wandered slowly around the side of the house, and was not above +a surreptitious glance through the windows. They revealed nothing. He +followed a path out by a little gate. His ruse had proven a blind trail, +and there was nothing to do but go down to the stables, take the horse +blanket from the peg where he had hung it, and set out again for the +South Y.D. + +As he turned a corner of the fence the sight of a young woman burst upon +him. She was hatless and facing the sun. Drazk, for all his admiration +of the sex, had little eye for detail. “A sort of chestnut, about +sixteen hands high, and with the look of a thoroughbred,” he afterwards +described her to Linder. + +She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and Drazk instantly summoned a +smirk which set his homely face beaming with good humor. + +“Pardon me, ma’am,” he said, with an elaborate bow. “I am Mr. Drazk--Mr. +George Drazk--Mr. Transley’s assistant. No doubt he spoke of me.” + +She was inside the enclosure formed by the fence, and he outside. She +turned on him eyes which set Drazk’s pulses strangely a-tingle, and +subjected him to a deliberate but not unfriendly inspection. + +“No, I don’t believe he did,” she said at length. Drazk cautiously +approached, as though wondering how near he could come without +frightening her away. He reached the fence and leaned his elbows on it. +She showed no disposition to move. He cautiously raised one foot and +rested it on the lower rail. + +“It’s a fine morning, ma’am,” he ventured. + +“Rather,” she replied. “Why aren’t you with Mr. Transley’s gang?” + +The question gave George an opening. “Well, you see,” he said, “it’s all +on account of that Pete-horse. That’s him down there. I rode away this +morning and plumb forgot his blanket. So when Mr. Transley seen it he +says, ‘Drazk, take the day off an’ go back for your blanket,’ he says. +‘There’s no hurry,’ he says. ‘Linder an’ me’ll manage,’ he says.” + +“Oh!” + +“So here I am.” He glanced at her again. She was showing no disposition +to run away. She was about two yards from him, along the fence. Drazk +wondered how long it would take him to bridge that distance. Even as he +looked she leaned her elbows on the fence and rested one of her feet on +the lower rail. Drazk fancied he saw the muscles about her mouth pulling +her face into little, laughing curves, but she was gazing soberly into +the distance. + +“He’s some horse, that Pete-horse,” he said, taking up the subject which +lay most ready to his tongue. “He’s sure some horse.” + +“I have no doubt.” + +“Yep,” Drazk continued. “Him an’ me has seen some times. Whew! Things I +couldn’t tell you about, at all.” + +“Well, aren’t you going to?” + +Drazk glanced at her curiously. This girl showed signs of leading him +out of his depth. But it was a very delightful sensation to feel one’s +self being led out of his depth by such a girl. Her face was motionless; +her eyes fixed dreamily upon the brown prairies that swept up the flanks +of the foothills to the south. Far and away on their curving crests the +dark snake-line of Transley’s outfit could be seen apparently motionless +on the rim of the horizon. + +Drazk changed his foot on the rail and the motion brought him six inches +nearer her. + +“Well, f’r instance,” he said, spurring his imagination into action, +“there was the fellow I run down an’ shot in the Cypress Hills.” + +“Shot!” she exclaimed, and the note of admiration in her voice stirred +him to further flights. + +“Yep,” he continued, proudly. “Shot an’ buried him there, right by the +road where he fell. Only me an’ that Pete-horse knows the spot.” + +George sighed sentimentally. “It’s awful sad, havin’ to kill a man,” + he went on, “an’ it makes you feel strange an’ creepy, ‘specially at +nights. That is, the first one affects you that way, but you soon get +used to it. You see, he insulted--” + +“The first one? Have you killed more than one?” + +“Oh yes, lots of them. A man like me, what knocks around all over with +all sorts of people, has to do it. + +“Then there’s the police. After you kill a few men nat’rally the police +begins to worry you. I always hate to kill a policeman.” + +“It must be an interesting life.” + +“It is, but it’s a hard one,” he said, after a pause during which he had +changed feet again and taken up another six inches of the distance which +separated them. He was almost afraid to continue the conversation. He +was finding progress so much easier than he had expected. It was evident +that he had made a tremendous hit with Y.D.’s daughter. What a story to +tell Linder! What would Transley say? He was shaking with excitement. + +“It’s an awful hard life,” he went on, “an’ there comes a time, Miss, +when a man wants to quit it. There comes a time when every decent man +wants to settle down. I been thinkin’ about that a lot lately.... What +do YOU think about it?” Drazk had gone white. He felt that he actually +had proposed to her. + +“Might be a good idea,” she replied, demurely. He changed feet again. +He had gone too far to stop. He must strike the iron when it was hot. Of +course he had no desire to stop, but it was all so wonderful. He could +speak to her now in a whisper. + +“How about you, Miss? How about you an’ me jus’ settlin’ down?” + +She did not answer for a moment. Then, in a low voice, + +“It wouldn’t be fair to accept you like this, Mr. Drazk. You don’t know +anything about me.” + +“An’ I don’t want to--I mean, I don’t care what about you.” + +“But it wouldn’t be fair until you know,” she continued. “There are +things I’d have to tell you, and I don’t like to.” + +She was looking downwards now, and he fancied he could see the color +rising about her cheeks and her frame trembling. He turned toward her +and extended his arms. “Tell me--tell your own George,” he cooed. + +“No,” she said, with sudden rigidity. “I can’t confess.” + +“Come on,” he pleaded. “Tell me. I’ve been a bad man, too.” + +She seemed to be weighing the matter. “If I tell you, you will never, +never mention it to anyone?” + +“Never. I swear it to you,” dramatically raising his hand. + +“Well,” she said, looking down bashfully and making little marks with +her finger-nail in the pole on which they were leaning, “I never told +anyone before, and nobody in the world knows it except he and I, and he +doesn’t know it now either, because I killed him.... I had to do it.” + +“Of course you did, dear,” he murmured. It was wonderful to receive a +woman’s confidence like this. + +“Yes, I had to kill him,” she repeated. “You see, he--he proposed to me +without being introduced!” + +It was some seconds before Drazk felt the blow. It came to him +gradually, like returning consciousness to a man who has been stunned. +Then anger swept him. + +“You’re playin’ with me,” he cried. “You’re makin’ a fool of me!” + +“Oh, George dear, how could I?” she protested. “Now perhaps you better +run along to that Pete-horse. He looks lonely.” + +“All right,” he said, striding away angrily. As he walked his rage +deepened, and he turned and shook his fist at her, shouting, “All right, +but I’ll get you yet, see? You think you’re smart, and Transley thinks +he’s smart, but George Drazk is smarter than both of you, and he’ll get +you yet.” + +She waved her hand complacently, but her composure had already maddened +him. He jerked his horse up roughly, threw himself into the saddle, and +set out at a hard gallop along the trail to the South Y.D. + +It was mid-afternoon when he overtook Transley’s outfit, now winding +down the southern slope of the tongue of foothills which divided the +two valleys of the Y.D. Pete, wet over the flanks, pulled up of his own +accord beside Linder’s wagon. + +“‘Lo, George,” said Linder. “What’s your hurry?” Then, glancing at his +saddle, “Where’s your blanket?” + +Drazk’s jaw dropped, but he had a quick wit, although an unbalanced one. + +“Well, Lin, I clean forgot all about it,” he admitted, with a laugh, +“but when a fellow spends the morning chatting with old Y.D.’s daughter +I guess he’s allowed to forget a few things.” + +“Oh!” + +“Reckon you don’t believe it, eh, Lin? Reckon you don’t believe I stood +an’ talked with her over the fence for so long I just had to pull myself +away?” + +“You reckon right.” + +George was thinking fast. Here was an opportunity to present the +incident in a light which had not before occurred to him. + +“Guess you wouldn’t believe she told me her secret--told me somethin’ +she had never told anybody else, an’ made me swear not to mention. Guess +you don’t believe that, neither?” + +“You guess right again.” Linder was quite unperturbed. He knew something +of Drazk’s gift for romancing. + +Drazk leaned over in the saddle until he could reach Linder’s ear with a +loud whisper. “And she called me ‘dear’; ‘George dear,’ she said, when I +came away.” + +“The hell she did!” said Linder, at last prodded into interest. He +considered the “George dear” idea a daring flight, even for Drazk. +“Better not let old Y.D. hear you spinning anything like that, George, +or he’ll be likely to spoil your youthful beauty.” + +“Oh, Y.D.’s all right,” said George, knowingly. “Y.D.’s all right. Well, +I guess I’ll let Pete feed a bit here, and then we’ll go back for his +blanket. You’ll have to excuse me a bit these days, Lin; you know how it +is when a fellow’s in love.” + +“Huh!” said Linder. + +George dropped behind, and an amused smile played on the foreman’s face. +He had known Drazk too long to be much surprised at anything he might +do. It was Drazk’s idea of gallantry to make love to every girl on +sight. Possibly Drazk had managed to exchange a word with Zen, and his +imagination would readily expand that into a love scene. Zen! Even the +placid, balanced Linder felt a slight leap in the blood at the unusual +name, which to him suggested the bright girl who had come into his life +the night before. Not exactly into his life; it would be fairer to say +she had touched the rim of his life. Perhaps she would never penetrate +it further; Linder rather expected that would be the case. As +for Drazk--she was in no danger from him. Drazk’s methods were so +precipitous that they could be counted upon to defeat themselves. + +Below stretched the valley of the South Y.D., almost a duplicate of its +northern neighbor. The stream hugged the feet of the hills on the north +side of the valley; its ribbon of green and gold was like a fringe +gathered about the hem of their skirts. Beyond the stream lay the level +plains of the valley, and miles to the south rose the next ridge of +foothills. It was from these interlying plains that Y.D. expected his +thousand tons of hay. There is no sleugh hay in the foothill country; +the hay is cut on the uplands, a short, fine grass of great nutritive +value. This grass, if uncut, cures in its natural state, and affords +sustenance to the herds which graze over it all winter long. But it +occasionally happens that after a snow-fall the Chinook wind will +partially melt the snow, and then a sudden drop in the temperature +leaves the prairies and foothills covered with a thin coating of ice. +It is this ice covering, rather than heavy snow-fall or severe weather, +which is the principal menace to winter grazing, and the foresighted +rancher aims to protect himself and his stock from such a contingency by +having a good reserve of hay in stack. + +Here, then, was the valley in which Y.D. hoped to supplement the crop of +his own hay lands. Linder’s appreciative eye took in the scene: a scene +of stupendous sizes and magnificent distances. As he slowly turned his +vision down the valley a speck in the distance caught his sight and +brought him to his feet. Shading his eyes from the bright afternoon sun +he surveyed it long and carefully. There was no doubt about it: a haying +outfit was already at work down the valley. + +Leaving his team to manage themselves Linder dropped from his wagon and +joined Transley. “Some one has beat us to it,” he remarked. + +“So I observed,” said Transley. “Well, it’s a big valley, and if they’re +satisfied to stay where they are there should be enough for both. If +they’re not--” + +“If they’re not, what?” demanded Linder. + +“You heard what Y.D. said. He said, ‘Cut it, spite o’ hell an’ high +water,’ and I always obey orders.” + +They wound down the hillside until they came to the stream, the horses +quickening their pace with the smell of water in their eager nostrils. +It was a good ford, broad and shallow, with the typical boulder bottom +of the mountain stream. The horses crowded into it, drinking greedily +with a sort of droning noise caused by the bits in their mouths. When +they had satisfied their thirst they raised their heads, stretched their +noses far out and champed wide-mouthed upon their bits. + +After a pause in the stream they drew out on the farther bank, where +were open spaces among cottonwood trees, and Transley indicated that +this would be their camping ground. Already smoke was issuing from the +chuck wagon, and in a few minutes the men’s sleeping tent and the two +stable tents were flashing back the afternoon sun. They carried no +eating tent; instead of that an eating wagon was backed up against the +chuck wagon, and the men were served in it. They had not paused for a +midday meal; the cook had provided sandwiches of bread and roast beef +to dull the edge of their appetite, and now all were keen to fall to as +soon as the welcome clanging of the plow-colter which hung from the end +of the chuck wagon should give the signal. + +Presently this clanging filled the evening air with sweet music, and the +men filed with long, slouchy tread into the eating wagon. The table ran +down the centre, with bench seats at either side. The cook, properly +gauging the men’s appetites, had not taken time to prepare meat and +potatoes, but on the table were ample basins of graniteware filled with +beans and bread and stewed prunes and canned tomatoes, pitchers of syrup +and condensed milk, tins with marmalade and jam, and plates with butter +sadly suffering from the summer heat. The cook filled their granite cups +with hot tea from a granite pitcher, and when the cups were empty filled +them again and again. And when the tables were partly cleared he brought +out deep pies filled with raisins and with evaporated apples and a +thick cake from which the men cut hunks as generous as their appetite +suggested. Transley had learned, what women are said to have learned +long ago, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and the +cook had carte blanche. Not a man who ate at Transley’s table but would +have spilt his blood for the boss or for the honor of the gang. + +The meal was nearing its end when through a window Linder’s eye caught +sight of a man on horseback rapidly approaching. “Visitors, Transley,” + he was able to say before the rider pulled up at the open door of the +covered wagon. + +He was such a rider as may still be seen in those last depths of the +ranching country where wheels have not entirely crowded Romance off +of horseback. Spare and well-knit, his figure had a suggestion of +slightness which the scales would have belied. His face, keen and +clean-shaven, was brown as the August hills, and above it his broad hat +sat in the careless dignity affected by the gentlemen of the plains. His +leather coat afforded protection from the heat of day and from the cold +of night. + +“Good evening, men,” he said, courteously. “Don’t let me disturb your +meal. Afterwards perhaps I can have a word with the boss.” + +“That’s me,” said Transley, rising. + +“No, don’t get up,” the stranger protested, but Transley insisted that +he had finished, and, getting down from the wagon, led the way a little +distance from the eager ears of its occupants. + +“My name is Grant,” said the stranger; “Dennison Grant. I am employed by +Mr. Landson, who has a ranch down the valley. If I am not mistaken you +are Mr. Transley.” + +“You are not mistaken,” Transley replied. + +“And I am perhaps further correct,” continued Grant, “in surmising that +you are here on behalf of the Y.D., and propose cutting hay in this +valley?” + +“Your grasp of the situation does you credit.” Transley’s manner was +that of a man prepared to meet trouble somewhat more than half way. + +“And I may further surmise,” continued Grant, quite unruffled, “that +Y.D. neglected to give you one or two points of information bearing upon +the ownership of this land, which would doubtless have been of interest +to you?” + +“Suppose you dismount,” said Transley. “I like to look a man in the face +when I talk business to him.” + +“That’s fair,” returned Grant, swinging lightly from his horse. “I have +a preference that way myself.” He advanced to within arm’s length of +Transley and for a few moments the two men stood measuring each other. +It was steel boring steel; there was not a flicker of an eyelid. + +“We may as well get to business, Grant,” said Transley at length. “I +also can do some surmising. I surmise that you were sent here by Landson +to forbid me to cut hay in this valley. On what authority he acts I +neither know nor care. I take my orders from Y.D. Y.D. said cut the hay. +I am going to cut it.” + +“YOU ARE NOT!” + +Transley’s muscles could be seen to go tense beneath his shirt. + +“Who will stop me?” he demanded. + +“You will be stopped.” + +“The Mounted Police?” There was contempt in his voice, but the contempt +was not for the Force. It was for the rancher who would appeal to the +police to settle a “friendly” dispute. + +“No, I don’t think it will be necessary to call in the police,” returned +Grant, dropping back to his pleasant, casual manner. “You know Y.D., +and doubtless you feel quite safe under his wing. But you don’t know +Landson. Neither do you know the facts of the case--the right and wrong +of it. Under these handicaps you cannot reach a decision which is fair +to yourself and to your men.” + +“Further argument is simply waste of time,” Transley interrupted. “I +have told you my instructions, and I have told you that I am going to +carry them out. Have you had your supper?” + +“Yes, thanks. All right, we won’t argue any more. I’m not arguing +now--I’m telling you, Y.D. has cut hay in this valley so long he thinks +he owns it, and the other ranchers began to think he owned it. But +Landson has been making a few inquiries. He finds that these are not +Crown lands, but are privately owned by speculators in New York. He has +contracted with the owners for the hay rights of these lands for five +years, beginning with the present season. He is already cutting farther +down the valley, and will be cutting here within a day or two.” + +“The trout ought to bite on a fine evening like this,” said Transley. “I +have an extra rod and some flies. Will you try a throw or two with me?” + +“I would be glad to, but I must get back to camp. I hope you land a good +string,” and so saying Grant remounted, nodded to Transley and again to +the men now scattered about the camp, and started his horse on an easy +lope down the valley. + +“Well, what is it to be?” said Linder, coming up with the rest of the +boys. “War?” + +“War if they fight,” Transley replied, unconcernedly. “Y.D. said cut the +hay; ‘spite o’ hell an’ high water,’ he said. That goes.” + +Slowly the great orb of the sun sank until the crest of the mountains +pierced its molten glory and sent it burnishing their rugged heights. In +the east the plains were already wrapped in shadow. Up the valley crept +the veil of night, hushing even the limitless quiet of the day. The +stream babbled louder in the lowering gloom; the stamp and champing of +horses grew less insistent; the cloudlets overhead faded from crimson to +mauve to blue to grey. + +Transley tapped the ashes from his pipe and went to bed. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +“How about a ride over to the South Fork this afternoon, Zen?” said Y.D. +to his daughter the following morning. “I just want to make sure them +boys is hittin’ the high spots. The grass is gettin’ powerful dry an’ +you can never tell what may happen.” + +“You’re on,” the girl replied across the breakfast table. Her mother +looked up sharply. She wondered if the prospect of another meeting with +Transley had anything to do with Zen’s alacrity. + +“I had hoped you would outgrow your slang, Zen,” she remonstrated +gently. “Men like Mr. Transley are likely to judge your training by your +speech.” + +“I should worry. Slang is to language what feathers are to a hat--they +give it distinction, class. They lift it out of the drab commonplace.” + +“Still, I would not care to be dressed entirely in feathers,” her mother +thrust quietly. + +“Good for you, Mother!” the girl exclaimed, throwing an arm about her +neck and planking a firm kiss on her forehead. “That was a solar plexus. +Now I’ll try to be good and wear a feather only here and there. But Mr. +Transley has nothing to do with it.” + +“Of course not,” said Y.D. “Still, Transley is a man with snap in him. +That’s why he’s boss. So many of these ornery good-for-nothin’s is +always wishin’ they was boss, but they ain’t willin’ to pay the price. +It costs somethin’ to get to the head of the herd--an’ stay there.” + +“He seems firm on all fours,” the girl agreed. “How do we travel, and +when?” + +“Better take a democrat, I guess,” her father said. “We can throw in +a tent and some bedding for you, as we’ll maybe stay over a couple of +nights.” + +“The blue sky is tent enough for me,” Zen protested, “and I can surely +rustle a blanket or two around the camp. Besides, I’ll want a riding +horse to get around with there.” + +“You can run him beside the democrat,” said her father. “You’re gettin’ +too big to go campin’ promisc’us like when you was a kid.” + +“That’s the penalty for growing up,” Zen sighed. “All right, Dad. Say +two o’clock?” + +The girl spent the morning helping her mother about the house, and +casting over in her mind the probable developments of the near future. +She would not have confessed outwardly to even a casual interest in +Transley, but inwardly she admitted that the promise of another meeting +with him gave zest to the prospect. Transley was interesting. At least +he was out of the commonplace. His bold directness had rather fascinated +her. He had a will. Her father had always admired men with a will, and +Zen shared his admiration. Then there was Linder. The fierce light of +Transley’s charms did not blind her to the glow of quiet capability +which she saw in Linder. If one were looking for a husband, Linder had +much to recommend him. He was probably less capable than Transley, but +he would be easier to manage.... But who was looking for a husband? Not +Zen. No, no, certainly not Zen. + +Then there was George Drazk, whose devotions fluctuated between “that +Pete-horse” and the latest female to cross his orbit. At the thought of +George Drazk Zen laughed outright. She had played with him. She had made +a monkey of him, and he deserved all he had got. It was not the first +occasion upon which Zen had let herself drift with the tide, always +sure of justifying herself and discomfiting someone by the swift, strong +strokes with which, at the right moment, she reached the shore. Zen +liked to think of herself as careering through life in the same way as +she rode the half-broken horses of her father’s range. How many such a +horse had thought that the lithe body on his back was something to race +with, toy with, and, when tired of that, fling precipitately to earth! +And not one of those horses but had found that while he might race and +toy with his rider within limitations, at the last that light body was +master, and not he.... Yet Zen loved best the horse that raced wildest +and was hardest to bring into subjection. + +That was her philosophy of life so far as a girl of twenty may have a +philosophy of life. It was to go on and see what would happen, supported +always by a quiet confidence that in any pinch she could take care of +herself. She had learned to ride and shoot, to sleep out and cook in the +open, to ride the ranges after dark by instinct and the stars--she had +learned these things while other girls of her age learned the rudiments +of fancy-work and the scales of the piano. + +Her father and mother knew her disposition, loved it, and feared for it. +They knew that there was never a rider so brave, so skilful, so strong, +but some outlaw would throw him at last. So at fourteen they sent her +east to a boarding-school. In two months she was back with a letter of +expulsion, and the boast of having blacked the eyes of the principal’s +daughter. + +“They couldn’t teach me any more, Mother,” she said. “They admitted it. +So here I am.” + +Y.D. was plainly perplexed. “It’s about time you was halter-broke,” he +commented, “but who’s goin’ to do it?” + +“If a girl has learned to read and think, what more can the schools do +for her?” she demanded. + +And Y.D., never having been to school, could not answer. + +The sun was capping the Rockies with molten gold when the rancher and +his daughter swung down the foothill slopes to the camp on the South +Y.D. Strings of men and horses returning from the upland meadows could +be seen from the hillside as they descended. + +Y.D.’s sharp eyes measured the scale of operations. + +“They’re hittin’ the high spots,” he said, approvingly. “That boy +Transley is a hum-dinger.” + +Zen made no reply. + +“I say he’s a hum-dinger,” her father repeated. + +The girl looked up with a quick flush of surprise. Y.D. was no puzzle to +her, and if he went out of his way to commend Transley he had a purpose. + +“Mr. Transley seems to have made a hit with you, Dad,” she remarked, +evasively. + +“Well, I do like to see a man who’s got the goods in him. I like a man +that can get there, just as I like a horse that can get there. I’ve +often wondered, Zen, what kind you’d take up with, when it came to that, +an’ hoped he’d be a live crittur. After I’m dead an’ buried I don’t want +no other dead one spendin’ my simoleons.” + +“How about Mr. Linder?” said Zen, naively. + +Her father looked up sharply. “Zen,” he said, “you’re not serious?” + +Zen laughed. “I don’t figure you’re exactly serious, Dad, in your +talk about Transley. You’re just feeling out. Well--let me do a little +feeling out. How about Linder?” + +“Linder’s all right,” Y.D. replied. “Better than the average, I admit. +But he’s not the man Transley is. If he was, he wouldn’t be workin’ for +Transley. You can’t keep a man down, Zen, if he’s got the goods in him. +Linder comes up over the average, so’s you can notice it, but not like +Transley does.” + +Zen did not pursue the subject. She understood her father’s philosophy +very well indeed, and, to a large degree, she accepted it as her own. It +was natural that a man of Y.D.’s experience, who had begun life with +no favors and had asked none since, and had made of himself a big +success--it was natural that such a man should judge all others by their +material achievements. The only quality Y.D. took off his hat to was the +ability to do things. And Y.D.’s idea of things was very concrete; it +had to do with steers and land, with hay and money and men. It was by +such things he measured success. And Zen was disposed to agree with him. +Why not? It was the only success she knew. + +Transley was greeting them as they drew into camp. + +“Glad to see you, Y.D.; honored to have a visit from you, Ma’am,” he +said, as he helped them from the democrat, and gave instructions for the +care of their horses. “Supper is waiting, and the men won’t be ready for +some time.” + +Y.D. shook hands with Transley cordially. “Zen an’ me just thought we’d +run over and see how the wind blew,” he said. “You got a good spot here +for a camp, Transley. But we won’t go in to supper just now. Let the +men eat first; I always say the work horses should be first at the barn. +Well, how’s she goin’?” + +“Fine,” said Transley, “fine,” but it was evident his mind was divided. +He was glancing at Zen, who stood by during the conversation. + +“I must try and make your daughter at home,” he continued. “I allow +myself the luxury of a private tent, and as you will be staying over +night I will ask you to accept it for her.” + +“But I have my own tent with me, in the democrat,” said Zen. “If you +will let the men pitch it under the trees where I can hear the water +murmuring in the night--” + +“Who’d have thought it, from the daughter of the practical Y.D!” + Transley bantered. “All right, Ma’am, but in the meantime take my tent. +I’ll get water, and there’s a basin.” He already was leading the way. +“Make yourself at home--Zen. May I call you Zen?” he added, in a lower +voice, as they left Y.D. at a distance. + +“Everybody calls me Zen.” + +They were standing at the door of the tent, he holding back the flap +that she might enter. The valley was already in shadow, and there was no +sunlight to play on her hair, but her face and figure in the mellow +dusk seemed entirely winsome and adorable. There was no taint of Y.D.’s +millions in the admiration that Transley bent upon her.... Of course, as +an adjunct, the millions were not to be despised. + +When the men had finished supper Transley summoned her. On the way to +the chuck-wagon she passed close to George Drazk. It was evident that +he had chosen a station with that result in view. She had passed by when +she turned, whimsically. + +“Well, George, how’s that Pete-horse?” she said. + +“Up an comin’ all the time, Zen,” he answered. + +She bit her lip over his familiarity, but she had no come-back. She had +given him the opening, by calling him “George.” + +“You see, I got quite well acquainted with Mr. Drazk when he came back +to hunt for a horse blanket which had mysteriously disappeared,” she +explained to Transley. + +They ascended the steps which led from the ground into the wagon. The +table had been reset for four, and as the shadows were now heavy in the +valley, candles had been lighted. Y.D. and his daughter sat on one side, +Transley on the other. In a moment Linder entered. He had already had a +talk with Y.D., but had not met Zen since their supper together in the +rancher’s house. + +“Glad to see you again, Mr. Linder,” said the girl, rising and extending +her hand across the table. “You see we lost no time in returning your +call.” + +Linder took her hand in a frank grasp, but could think of nothing in +particular to say. “We’re glad to have you,” was all he could manage. + +Zen was rather sorry that Linder had not made more of the situation. +She wondered what quick repartee, shot, no doubt, with double meaning, +Transley would have returned. It was evident that, as her father had +said, Linder was second best. And yet there was something about his +shyness that appealed to her even more than did Transley’s superb +self-confidence. + +The meal was spent in small talk about horses and steers and the merits +of the different makes of mowing machines. When it was finished Transley +apologized for not offering his guests any liquor. “I never keep it +about the camp,” he said. + +“Quite right,” Y.D. agreed, “quite right. Booze is like fire; a valuable +thing in careful hands, but mighty dangerous when everybody gets playin’ +with it. I reckon the grass is gettin’ pretty dry, Transley?” + +“Mighty dry, all right, but we’re taking every precaution.” + +“I’m sure you are, but you can’t take precautions for other people. Has +anybody been puttin’ you up to any trouble here?” + +“Well, no, I can’t exactly say trouble,” said Transley, “but we’ve got +notice it’s coming. A chap named Grant, foreman, I think, for Landson, +down the valley, rode over last night, and invited us not to cut any hay +hereabouts. He was very courteous, and all that, but he had the manner +of a man who’d go quite a distance in a pinch.” + +“What did you tell him?” + +“Told him I was working for Y.D., and then asked him to stay for +supper.” + +“Did he stay?” Zen asked. + +“He did not. He cantered off back, courteous as he came. And this +morning we went out on the job, and have cut all day, and nothing has +happened.” + +“I guess he found you were not to be bluffed,” said Zen, and Transley +could not prevent a flush of pleasure at her compliment. “Of course +Landson has no real claim to the hay, has he, Dad?” + +“Of course not. I reckon them’ll be his stacks we saw down the valley. +Well, I’m not wantin’ to rob him of the fruit of his labor, an’ if +he keeps calm perhaps we’ll let him have what he has cut, but if he +don’t--” Y.D.’s face hardened with the set of a man accustomed to fight, +and win, his own battles. “I think we’ll just stick around a day or two +in case he tries to start anythin’,” he continued. + +“Well, five o’clock comes early,” said Transley, “and you folks must +be tired with your long drive. We’ve had your tent pitched down by the +water, Zen, so that its murmurs may sing you to sleep. You see, I have +some of the poetic in me, too. Mr. Linder will show you down, and I will +see that your father is made comfortable. And remember--five o’clock +does not apply to visitors.” + +The camp now lay in complete darkness, save where a lantern threw its +light from a tent by the river. Zen walked by Linder’s side. Presently +she reached out and took his arm. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Linder. “I should have offered--” + +“Of course you should. Mr. Transley would not have waited to be told. +Dad thinks that anything that’s worth having in this world is worth +going after, and going after hard. I guess I’m Dad’s daughter in more +ways than one.” + +“I suppose he’s right,” Linder confessed, “but I’ve always been shy. I +get along all right with men.” + +“The truth is, Mr Linder, you’re not shy--you’re frightened. Now I can +well believe that no man could frighten you. Consequently you get along +all right with men. Do I need to tell you the rest?” + +“I never thought of myself as being afraid of women,” he replied. “It +has always seemed that they were, well, just out of my line.” + +They had reached the tent but the girl made no sign of going in. In the +silence the sibilant lisp of the stream rose loud about them. + +“Mr. Linder,” she said at length, “do you know why Mr. Transley sent you +down here with me?” + +“I’m sure I don’t, except to show you to your tent.” + +“That was the least of his purposes. He wanted to show you that he +wasn’t afraid of you; and he wanted to show me that he wasn’t afraid of +you. Mr. Transley is a very self-confident individual. There is such a +thing as being too self-confident, Mr. Linder, just as there is such a +thing as being too shy. Do you get me? Good night!” And with a little +rush she was in her tent. + +Linder walked slowly down to the water’s edge, and stood there, +thinking, until her light went out. His brain was in a whirl with a +sensation entirely strange to it. A light wind, laden with snow-smell +from the mountains, pressed gently against his features, and presently +Linder took deeper breaths than he had ever known before. + +“By Jove!” he said. “Who’d have thought it possible?” + + + +CHAPTER V + + +When Zen awoke next morning the mowing machines of Transley’s outfit +were already singing their symphony in the meadows; she could hear the +metallic rhythm as it came borne on the early breeze. She lay awake on +her camp cot for a few minutes, stretching her fingers to the canvas +ceiling and feeling that it was good to be alive. And it was. The ripple +of water came from almost underneath the walls of her tent; the smell +of spruce trees and balm-o’-Gilead and new-mown hay was in the air. She +could feel the warmth of the sunshine already pouring upon her white +roof; she could trace the gentle sway of the trees by the leafy patterns +gliding forward and back. A cheeky gopher, exploring about the door +of her tent, ventured in, and, sitting bolt upright, sent his shrill +whistle boldly forth. She watched his fine bravery for a minute, then +clapped her hands together, and laughed as he fled. + +“Therein we have the figures of both Transley and Linder,” she mused +to herself. “Upright, Transley; horizontal, Linder. I doubt if the poor +fellow slept last night after the fright I gave him.” Slowly and calmly +she turned the incident over in her mind. She wondered a little if she +had been quite fair with Linder. Her words and conduct were capable of +very broad interpretations. She was not at all in love with Linder; of +that Zen was very sure. She was equally sure that she was not at all in +love with Transley. She admitted that she admired Transley for his calm +assumptions, but they nettled her a little nevertheless. If this should +develop into a love affair--IF it should--she had no intention that it +was to be a pleasant afternoon’s canter. It was to be a race--a race, +mind you--and may the best man win! She had a feeling, amounting almost +to a conviction, that Transley underrated his foreman’s possibilities +in such a contest. She had seen many a dark horse, less promising than +Linder, gallop home with the stakes. + +Then Zen smiled her own quiet, self-confident smile, the smile which had +come down to her from Y.D. and from the Wilsons--the only family that +had ever mastered him. The idea of either Transley or Linder thinking he +could gallop home with HER! For the moment she forgot to do Linder the +justice of remembering that nothing was further from his thoughts. She +would show them. She would make a race of it--ALMOST to the wire. In the +home stretch she would make the leap, out and over the fence. She was in +it for the race, not for the finish. + +Zen contemplated for some minutes the possibilities of that race; then, +as the imagination threatened to become involved, she sprang from her +cot and thrust a cautious head through the door of her tent. The gang +had long since gone to the fields, and friendly bushes sheltered her +from view from the cook-car. She drew on her boots, shook out her hair, +threw a towel across her shoulders, and, soap in hand, walked boldly the +few steps to the stream rippling over its shiny gravel bed. She stopped +and tested the water with her fingers; then brought it in fresh, cool +handfuls about her face and neck. + +“Mornin’, Zen!” said a familiar voice. “‘Scuse me for happenin’ to be +here. I was jus’ waterin’ that Pete-horse after a hard ride.” + +“Now look here, Mr. Drazk!” said the girl, whipping her scanty clothing +about her, “if I had a gun that Pete-horse would be scheduled for his +fastest travel in the next twenty seconds, and he’d end it without a +rider, too. I won’t have you spying about!” + +“Aw, don’ be cross,” Drazk protested. He was sitting on his horse in +the ford a dozen yards away. “I jus’ happened along. I guess the outside +belongs to all of us. Say, Zen, if I was to get properly interduced, +what’s the chances?” + +“Not one in a million, and if that isn’t odds enough I’ll double it.” + +“You’re not goin’ to hitch up with Linder, are you?” + +“Linder? Who said anything about Linder?” + +“Gee, but ain’t she innercent?” Drazk stepped his horse up a few feet to +facilitate conversation. “I alus take an interest in innercent gals away +from home, so I kinda kep’ my angel eye on you las’ night. An’ I see +Linder stalkin’ aroun’ here an’ sighin’ out over the water when he +should ‘ave been in bed. But, of course, he’s been interduced.” + +“George Drazk, if you speak to me again I’ll horse-whip you out of the +camp at noon before all the men. Now, beat it!” + +“Jus’ as you say, Ma’am,” he returned, with mock courtesy. “But I could +tell a strange story if I would. But you don’t need to be scared. That’s +one thing I never do--I never squeal on a friend.” + +She was burning with his insults, and if she had had a gun at hand she +undoubtedly would have made good her threat. But she had none. Drazk +very deliberately turned his horse and rode away toward the meadows. + +“Oh, won’t I fix him!” she said, as she continued her toilet in a fury. +She had not the faintest idea what revenge she would take, but she +promised herself that it would leave nothing to be desired. Then, +because she was young and healthy and an optimist, and did not know +what it meant to be afraid, she dismissed the incident from her mind to +consider the more urgent matter of breakfast. + +Tompkins, the cook, had not needed Transley’s suggestion to put his +best foot forward when catering to Y.D. and his daughter. Tompkins’ soul +yearned for a cooking berth that could be occupied the year round. +Work in the railway camps had always left him high and dry at the +freeze-up--dry, particularly, and a few nights in Calgary or Edmonton +saw the end of his season’s earnings. Then came a precarious existence +for Tompkins until the scrapers were back on the dump the following +spring. A steady job, cooking on a ranch like the Y.D.; if Tompkins had +written the Apocalypse that would have been his picture of heaven. So he +had left nothing undone, even to despatching a courier over night to a +railway station thirty miles away for fresh fruit and other delicacies. +Another of the gang had been impressed into a trip up the river to a +squatter who was suspected of keeping one or two milch cows and sundry +hens. + +“This way, Ma’am,” Tompkins was waving as Zen emerged from the grove. +“Another of our usual mornings. Hope you slep’ well, Ma’am.” He stood +deferentially aside while she ascended the three steps that led into the +covered wagon. + +Zen gave a little shriek of delight, and Tompkins felt that all his +efforts had been well repaid. One end of the table--it was with a +sore heart Tompkins had realized that he could not cut down the big +table--one end of the table was set with a clean linen cloth and granite +dishware scoured until it shone. Beside Zen’s plate were grape fruit and +sliced oranges and real cream. + +“However did you manage it?” she gasped. + +“Nothing’s too good for Y.D.’s daughter,” was the only explanation +Tompkins would offer, but, as Zen afterwards said, the smile on his face +was as good as another breakfast. After the fruit came porridge, +and more cream; then fresh boiled eggs with toast; then fresh ripe +strawberries with more cream. + +“Mr.--Mr.--” + +“Tompkins, Ma’am; Cyrus Tompkins,” he supplied. + +“Well, Mr. Tompkins, you’re a wonder, and when there’s a new cook to be +engaged for the Y.D. I shall think of you.” + +“Indeed I wish you would, Ma’am,” he said, earnestly. “This road +work’s all right, and nobody ever cooked for a better boss than Mr. +Transley--savin’ it would be your father, Ma’am--but I’m a man of +family, an’ it’s pretty hard--” + +“Family, did you say, Mr. Tompkins? How many of a family have you?” + +“Well, it’s seven years since I heard from them--I haven’t corresponded +very reg’lar of late, but they WAS six--” + +The story of Tompkins’ family was cut short by the arrival of a team and +mowing machine. + +“What’s up, Fred?” called Tompkins through a window of his dining car to +the driver. “Breakfust is just over, an’ dinner ain’t begun.” + +For answer the man addressed as Fred slowly produced an iron stake about +eighteen inches long and somewhat less than an inch in diameter. + +“What kind of shrubbery do you call that, Tompkins?” he demanded. + +“Well, it ain’t buffalo grass, an’ it ain’t brome grass, an’ I don’t +figger it’s alfalfa,” said Tompkins, meditatively. + +“No, and it ain’t a grub-stake,” Fred replied, with some sarcasm. “It’s +a iron stake, growin’ right in a nice little clump of grass, and I run +on to it and bust my cuttin’-bar all to--that is, all to pieces,” he +completed rather lamely, taking Zen into his glance. + +“I think I follow you,” she said, with a smile. “Can you fix it here?” + +“Nope. Have to go to town for a new one. Two days’ lost time, when every +hour counts. Hello! Here comes someone else.” + +Another of the teamsters was drawing into camp. “Hello, Fred!” he said, +upon coming up with his fellow workman, “you in too? I had a bit of +bad luck. I run smash on to an iron stake right there in the ground and +crumpled my knife like so much soap.” + +“I did worse,” said Fred, with a grin. “I bust my cuttin’-bar.” + +The two men exchanged a steady glance for half a minute. Then the +new-comer gave vent to a long, low whistle. + +“So that’s the way of it,” he said. “That’s the kind of war Mr. Landson +makes. Well, we can fight back with the same weapons, but that won’t cut +the hay, will it?” + +By this time Y.D. and Transley, with four other teamsters, were observed +coming in. Each driver had had the same experience. An iron stake, +carefully hidden in a clump of grass, had been driven down into the +ground until it was just high enough to intercept the cutting-bar. The +fine, sharp knives were crumpled against it; in some cases the heavy +cutting-bar, in which the knives operate, was damaged. + +Y.D.’s face was black with fury. + +“That’s the lowest, mangyest, cowardliest trick I ever had pulled on +me,” he was saying. “I’m plumb equal to ridin’ down to Landson’s an’ +drivin’ one of them stakes through under his short ribs.” + +“But can you prove that Landson did it?” said Zen, who had an element +of caution in her when her father was concerned. She had a vision of +a fight, with Landson pleading entire ignorance of the whole cause of +offence, and her father probably summoned by the police for unprovoked +assault. + +“No, I can’t prove that Landson did it, an’ I can’t prove that the grass +my steers eat turns to hair on their backs,” he retorted, “but I reach +my own conclusions. Is there any shootin’ irons in the place?” + +“Now, Dad, that’s enough,” said the girl, firmly. “There’ll be no +shooting between you and Landson. If there is to be anything of that +kind I’ll ride down ahead and warn him of what’s coming.” + +“Darter,” said Y.D.--it was only on momentous occasions that he +addressed her as daughter--“I brought you over here as a guest, not +as manager o’ my affairs. I’ve taken care of those affairs for some +considerable years, an’ I reckon I still have the qualifications. If +you’re a-goin’ to act up obstrep’rous I’ll get Mr. Transley to lend me a +man to escort you home.” + +“At your service, Y.D.,” said George Drazk, who was in the crowd which +had gathered about the rancher, his daughter, and Transley. “That +Pete-horse an’ me would jus’ see her over the hills a-whoopin’.” + +“I don’t think it would be wise to take any extreme measures, at least, +not just yet,” said Transley. “It’s out of the question to suppose that +Landson has picketed the whole valley with those stakes. It is now quite +clear why we were left in peace yesterday. He wanted us to get started, +and get a few swaths cut, so that he would know where to drive the +stakes to catch us the next morning. Some of these machines can be +repaired at once, and the others within a day or two. We will just move +over a little and start on new fields. There’s pretty good moonlight +these nights and we’ll leave a few men out on guard, and perhaps we can +catch the enemy at his little game. Let us get one of Landson’s men with +the goods on him.” + +Y.D. was somewhat pacified by this suggestion. “You’re a practical +devil, Transley,” he said, with considerable admiration. “Now, in a case +of this kind I jus’ get plumb fightin’ mad. I want to bore somebody. +I guess it’s the only kind o’ procedure that comes easy to my hand. I +guess you’re right, but I hate to let anybody have the laugh on me.” + Y.D. looked down the valley, shading his eyes with his hand. “That +son-of-a-gun has got a dozen or more stacks down there. I don’t wish +nobody any hard luck, but if some tenderfoot was to drop a cigar--” + +“In that case I suppose you’d pray for a west wind, Dad,” Zen suggested, +“but the winds in these valleys, even with your prayers to direct them, +are none too reliable.” + +“Everybody to work on fixing up these machines,” Transley ordered. +“Linder, make a list of what repairs are needed and Drazk will ride to +town with it at once. Some of them may have to come out from the city by +express. Drazk can get the orders in and a team will follow to bring out +the repairs.” + +In a moment Transley’s men were busy with wrenches and hammers, +replacing knives and appraising damages. Even in his anger Y.D. took +approving note of the promptness of Transley’s decisions and the zest +with which his men carried them into effect. + +“A he-man, that fellow, Zen,” he confided to his daughter, “If he’d +blowed into this country thirty years ago, like I did, he’d own it by +this time plumb to the sky-line.” + +When the list of repairs was completed Linder handed it to Drazk. + +“Beat it to town on that Pete-horse of yours, George,” he said. “Burn +the grass on the road.” + +“I bet I’ll be ten miles on the road back when I meet my shadow goin’,” + said Drazk, making a spectacular leap into his saddle. “Bye, Y.D!; bye, +Zen!” he shouted while he whirled his horse’s head eastward and waved +his hand to where they stood. In spite of her annoyance at him she had +to smile and return his salute. + +“Mr. Drazk is irrepressible,” she remarked to Transley. + +“And irresponsible,” the contractor returned. “I sometimes wonder why I +keep him. In fact, I don’t really keep him; he just stays. Every spring +he hunts me up and fastens on. Still, I get a lot of good service out +of him. Praise ‘that Pete-horse,’ and George would ride his head off for +you. He has a weakness for wanting to marry every woman he sees, but his +infatuations seem harmless enough.” + +“I know something of his weakness,” Zen replied. “I have already been +honored with a proposal.” + +Transley looked in her face. It was slightly flushed, whether with the +summer sun or with her confession, but it was a wonderfully good face to +look in. + +“Zen,” he said, in a low voice that Y.D. and the others might not hear, +“how would you take a serious proposal, made seriously by one who loves +you, and who knows that you are, and always will be, a queen among +women?” + +“If you had been a cow puncher instead of a contractor,” she told him, +“I’m sure you would long ago have ended your life in some dash over a +cutbank.” + +Meanwhile Drazk pursued his way to town. The trail, after crossing the +ford, turned abruptly to the right from that which led across country to +the North Y.D. For a mile or more it skirted the stream in a park-like +drive through groves of spruce and cottonwood. Sunshine and the babble +of water everywhere filled the air. Sunshine, too, filled George Drazk’s +heart. The importance of his mission was pleasantly heavy upon him. He +pictured the impression he would make in town, galloping in with his +horse wet over the back, and rushing to the implement agency with all +the importance of a courier from Y.D. He would let two of the boys take +Pete to the stable, and then, seated on a mower seat in the shade, he +would tell the story. It would lose nothing in the telling. He would +even add how Zen had thrown a kiss at him in parting. Perhaps he would +have Zen kiss him on the cheek before the whole camp. He turned that +possibility over in his mind, weighing nicely the credulity of his +imaginary audience.... At any rate, whether he decided to put that in +the story or not, it was very pleasant to think about. + +Presently the trail turned abruptly up a gully leading into the hills. +A huge cutbank, jutting into the river, barred the way in front, and +its precipitous side, a hundred feet or more in height, kept continually +crumbling and falling into the stream. These cutbanks are a terror to +inexperienced riders. The valleys are swallowed up in the tawny sameness +of the ranges; the vision catches only the higher levels, and one +may gallop to the verge of a precipice before becoming aware of +its existence. It was to this that Zen had referred in speaking of +Transley’s precipitateness. + +Drazk followed the gully up into the hills, letting his horse drop back +to a walk in the hard going along the dry bed of a stream which flowed +only in the spring freshets. Pete had to pick his way over boulders and +across stretches of sand and boggy patches of black mud formed by little +springs leaking out under clumps of willows. Here and there the white +ribs of a steer’s skeleton peered through the brush; once or twice an +overpowering stench gave notice of a carcass not wholly decomposed. + +It was not a pleasant environment, but in an hour Drazk was out again +on the brow of the brown hills, where the sunshine flooded about and a +fresh breeze beat up against his face. After all his winding about in +the gully he was not more than a mile from the cutbank. + +“I reckon I could get a great view from that cutbank of what Landson +is doin’,” he suddenly remarked to himself. He took off his hat and +scratched his tousled head in reflection. “Linder said to beat it,” he +ruminated, “but I can’t get back to-night anyway, an’ it might be worth +while to do a little scoutin’. Here goes!” + +He struck a smart gallop to the southward, and brought his horse up, +spectacularly, a yard from the edge of the precipice. The view which +his position commanded was superb. Up the valley lay the white tents of +Transley’s outfit, almost hidden in green foliage; the ford across the +river was distinctly visible, and stretching south from it lay, like a +great curving snake, the trail which wound across the valley and lost +itself in the foothills far to the south; across the western horizon +hung the purple curtain of the mountains, soft and vague in their +noonday mists, but touched with settings of ivory where the snow fields +beat back the blazing sunshine; far down the valley was the gleam of +Landson’s whitewashed buildings, and nearer at hand the greenish-brown +of the upland meadows which his haymakers had already cleared of their +crop of prairie wool. This was now arising in enormous stacks; it must +have been three miles to where they lay, but Drazk’s keen eyes could +distinguish ten completed stacks and two others in course of building. +He could even see the sweeps hauling the new hay, after only a few hours +of sun-drying, and sliding it up the inclined platforms which dumped it +into the form of stacks. The foothill rancher makes hay by horse power, +and almost without the aid of a pitch-fork. Even as Drazk watched he +saw a load skidded up; saw its apparent momentary poise in air; saw +the well-trained horses stop and turn and start back to the meadow with +their sweep. And up the valley Transley’s outfit was at a standstill. + +Drazk employed his limited but expressive vocabulary. It was against +all human nature to look on such a scene unmoved. He recalled Y.D.’s +half-spoken wish about a random cigar. Then suddenly George Drazk’s +mouth dropped open and his eyes rounded with a great idea. + +Of course, it was against all the rules of the range--it was outlaw +business--but what about driving iron stakes in a hay meadow? Drazk’s +philosophy was that the end justifies the means. And if the end would +win the approval of Y.D.--and of Y.D.’s daughter--then any means was +justified. Had not Linder said, “Burn the grass on the road?” Drazk +knew well enough that Linder’s remark was a figure of speech, but +his eccentric mind found no trouble in converting it into literal +instructions. + +Drazk sniffed the air and looked at the sun. A soft breeze was moving +slowly up the valley; the sun was just past noon. There was every reason +to expect that as the lowland prairies grew hot with the afternoon +sunshine a breeze would come down out of the mountains to occupy the +area of great atmospheric expansion. Drazk knew nothing about the theory +of the thing; all that concerned him was the fact that by mid-afternoon +the wind would probably change to the west. + +Two miles down the valley he found a gully which gave access to the +water’s edge. He descended, located a ford, and crossed. There were +cattle-trails through the cottonwoods; he might have followed them, but +he feared the telltale shoe-prints. He elected the more difficult route +down the stream itself. The South Y.D. ran mostly on a wide gravel +bottom; it was possible to pick out a course which kept Pete in water +seldom higher than his knees. An hour of this, and Drazk, peering +through the trees, could see the nearest of Landson’s stacks not half +a mile away. The Landson gang were working farther down the valley, and +the stack itself covered approach from the river. + +Drazk slipped from the saddle, and stole quietly into the open. The +breeze was now coming down the valley. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Transley’s men had repaired such machines as they could and returned to +work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the valley; the horses were +speeded up to recover lost time. Transley and Y.D. rode about, carefully +scrutinizing the short grass for iron stakes, and keeping a general eye +on operations. + +Suddenly Transley sat bolt-still on his horse. Then, in a low voice, + +“Y.D!” he said. + +The rancher turned and followed the line of Transley’s vision. The +nearest of Landson’s stacks was ablaze, and a great pillar of smoke was +rolling skyward. Even as they watched, the base of the fire seemed to +spread; then, in a moment, tongues of flame were seen leaping from a +stack farther on. + +“Looks like your prayers were answered, Y.D.,” said Transley. “I bet +they haven’t a plow nearer than the ranch.” + +Y.D. seemed fascinated by the sight. He could not take his eyes off +it. He drew a cigar from his pocket and thrust it far into his mouth, +chewing it savagely and rolling it in his lips, but, according to the +law of the hayfield, refraining from lighting it. At first there was a +gleam of vengeance in his eyes, but presently that gave way to a sort of +horror. Every honorable tradition of the range demanded that he enlist +his force against the common enemy. + +“Hell, Transley!” he ejaculated, “we can’t sit and look at that! Order +the men out! What have we got to fight with?” + +For answer Transley swung round in his saddle and struck his palm into +Y.D.’s. + +“Good boy, Y.D!” he said. “I did you an injustice--I mean, about your +prayers being answered. We haven’t as much as a plow, either, but we can +gallop down with some barrels in a wagon and put a sack brigade to +work. I’m afraid it won’t save Landson’s hay, but it will show where our +hearts are.” + +Transley and Y.D. galloped off to round up the men, some of whom had +already noticed the fire. Transley despatched four men and two teams +to take barrels, sacks, and horse blankets to the Landson meadows. The +others he sent off at once on horseback to give what help they could. + +Zen rode up just as they left, and already her fine horse seemed to +realize the tension in the air. His keen, hard-strung muscles quivered +as she brought his gallop to a stop. + +“How did it start, Dad?” she demanded. + +“How do I know?” he returned, shortly. “D’ye think I fired it?” + +“No, but I just asked the question that Landson will ask, so you better +have your answer handy. I’m going to gallop down to their ranch; perhaps +I can help Mrs. Landson.” + +“The ranch buildings are safe enough, I think,” said Transley. “The +grass there is close cropped, and there is some plowing.” + +For a moment the three sat, watching the spread of the flames. By this +time the whole lower valley was blanketed in smoke. Clouds of blue and +mauve and creamy yellow rolled from the meadows and stacks. The fire was +whipping the light breeze of the afternoon to a gale, and was already +running wildly over the flanks of the foothills. + +“Well, I’m off,” said Zen. “Good-bye!” + +“Be careful, Zen!” her father shouted. “Fire is fire.” But already her +horse was stretching low and straight in a hard gallop down the valley. + +“I’ll ride in to camp and tell Tompkins to make up a double supply of +sandwiches and coffee,” said Transley. “I guess there’ll be no cooking +in Landson’s outfit this afternoon. After that we can both run down and +lend a hand, if that suits you.” + +As they rode to camp together Y.D. drew up close to the contractor. +“Transley,” he said, “how do you reckon that fire started?” + +“I don’t know,” said Transley, “any more than you do.” + +“I didn’t ask you what you KNEW. I asked you what you reckoned.” + +Transley rode for some minutes in silence. Then at last he spoke: + +“A man isn’t supposed to reckon in things of this kind. He should know, +or keep his mouth shut. But I allow myself just one guess. Drazk.” + +“Why Drazk?” Y.D. demanded. “He has nothin’ to gain, and this prank may +put him in the cooler.” + +“Drazk would do anything to be spectacular,” Transley explained. “He +probably will boast openly about it. You know, he’s trying to make an +impression on Zen.” + +“Nonsense!” + +“Of course it’s nonsense, but Drazk doesn’t see it that way.” + +“I’d string him to the nearest cottonwood if I thought he--” + +“Now don’t do him an injustice, Y.D. Drazk doesn’t realize that he is +no mate for Zen. He doesn’t know of any reason why Zen shouldn’t look on +him with favor; indeed, with pride. It’s ridiculous, I know, but Drazk +is built that way.” + +“Then I’ll change his style of architecture the first time I run into +him,” said Y.D. savagely. “Zen is too young to think of such a thing, +anyway.” + +“She will always be too young to think of such a thing, so far as Drazk +or his type is concerned,” Transley returned. “But suppose--Y.D., to be +quite frank, suppose _I_ suggested--” + +“Transley, you work quick,” said Y.D. “I admit I like a quick worker. +But just now we have a fire on our hands.” + +By this time they had reached the camp. Transley gave his instructions +in a few words, and then turned to ride down to Landson’s. They had gone +only a few hundred yards when Y.D. pulled his horse to a stop. + +“Transley!” he exclaimed, and his voice was shaking. “What do you +smell?” + +The contractor drew up and sniffed the air. When he turned to Y.D. his +face was white. + +“Smoke, Y.D!” he gasped. “The wind has changed!” + +It was true. Already low clouds of smoke were drifting overhead like a +broken veil. The erratic foothill wind, which a few minutes before had +been coming down the valley, was now blowing back up again. Even while +they took in the situation they could feel the hot breath of the distant +fire borne against their faces. + +“Well, it’s up to us,” said Transley tersely. “We’ll make a fight of it. +Got any speed in that nag of yours?” Without waiting for an answer he +put spurs to his horse and set forward on a wild gallop into the smoke. + +A mile down the line he found that Linder had already gathered his +forces and laid out a plan of defence. The valley, from the South Y.D. +to the hills, was about four miles wide, and up the full breadth of +it was now coming the fire from Landson’s fields. There was no natural +fighting line; Linder had not so much as a buffalo path to work against. +But he was already starting back-fires at intervals of fifty yards, +allotting three men to each fire. A back-fire is a fire started for the +purpose of stopping another. Usually a road, or a plowed strip, or even +a cattle path, is used for a base. On the windward side of this base the +back-fire is started and allowed to eat its way back against the wind +until it meets the main fire which is rushing forward with the wind, and +chokes it out for lack of fuel. A few men, stationed along a furrow or a +trail, can keep the small back-fire from jumping it, although they would +be powerless to check the momentum of the main fire. + +This was Linder’s position, except that he had no furrow to work +against. All he could do was tell off men with sacks and horse blankets +soaked in the barrels of water to hold the back-fire in check as best +they could. So far they were succeeding. As soon as the fire had burned +a few feet the forward side of it was pounded out with wet sacks. It +didn’t matter about the other side. It could be allowed to eat back as +far as it liked; the farther the better. + +“Good boy, Lin!” Transley shouted, as he drew up and surveyed +operations. “She played us a dirty trick, didn’t she?” + +Linder looked up, red-eyed and coughing. “We can hold it here,” he said, +“but we can never cross the valley. The fire will be on us before we +have burned a mile. It will beat around our south flank and lick up +everything!” + +Transley jumped from his horse. He seized Linder in his arms and +literally threw him into the saddle. “You’re played, boy!” he shouted in +his foreman’s ear. “Ride down to the river and get into the water, and +stay there until you know we can win!” + +Then Transley threw himself into the fight. As the men said afterwards, +Linder fought like a wildcat, but Transley fought like a den of lions. +When the wagon galloped up from the river with barrels of water Transley +seized a barrel at the end and set it bodily on the ground. He sprang +into the wagon, shouting commands to horses and men. A hundred yards +they galloped along the fighting front; then Transley sprang out and set +another barrel on the ground. In this way, instead of having the men all +coming to the wagon to wet their sacks, he distributed water along the +line. Then they turned back, picked up the empty barrels, and galloped +to the river for a fresh supply. + +Soon they had the first mile secure. The backfires had all met; the +forward line of flames had all been pounded out; the rear line had +burned back until there was no danger of it jumping the burned space. +Then Transley picked up his kit and rushed it on to a new front farther +south. At intervals of a hundred yards he started fires, holding them in +check and beating out the western edge as before. + +But his difficulties were increasing. He was farther from the river. +It took longer to get water. One of the barrels fell off and collapsed. +Some of the men were playing out. The horses were wild with excitement +and terror. The smoke was growing denser and hotter. Men were coughing +and gasping through dry, seared lips. + +“You can’t hold it, Transley; you can’t hold it!” said one of the men. + +Transley hit him from the shoulder. He crumpled up and collapsed. + +A mile and a half had been made safe, but the smoke was suffocatingly +thick and the roar of the oncoming fire rose above the shouts of the +fighters. Up galloped the water wagon; made a sharp lurch and turn, +and a front wheel collapsed with the shock. The wagon went down at one +corner and the barrels were dumped on the ground. + +The men looked at Transley. For one moment he surveyed the situation. + +“Is there a chain?” he demanded. There was. + +“Hitch on to the tire of this broken wheel. Some of you men yank the hub +out of it. Others pull grass. Pull, like hell was after you!” + +They pulled. In a minute or two Transley had the rim of the wheel flat +on the ground, with a team hitched to it and a little pile of dry grass +inside. Then he set fire to the little pile of grass and started the +team slowly along the battle front. As they moved the burning grass in +the rim set fire to the grass on the prairie underneath; the rim partly +rubbed it out again as it came over, and the men were able to keep what +remained in check, but as he lengthened his line Transley had to leave +more and more men to beat out the fire, and had fewer to pull grass. +The sacks were too wet to burn; he had to have grass to feed his moving +fire-spreader. + +At length he had only a teamster and himself, and his fire was going +out. Transley whipped off his shirt, rolled it into a little heap, +set fire to it, and ran along beside the rim, firing the little moving +circle of grass inside. + +It was the teamster, looking back, who saw Transley fall. He had to drop +the lines to run to his assistance, and the horses, terrified by smoke +and fire and the excitement of the fight, immediately bolted. The +teamster took Transley in his arms and half carried, half dragged him +into the safe area behind the backfires. And a few minutes later the +main fire, checked on its front, swept by on the flank and raced on up +through the valley. + +In riding down to the assistance of Mrs. Landson Zen found herself +suddenly caught in an eddy of smoke. She did not realize at the moment +that the wind had turned; she thought she must have ridden into the fire +area. To avoid the possibility of being cut off by the fire, and also +for better air, she turned her horse to the river. All through the +valley were billows of smoke, with here and there a reddish-yellow +glare marking the more vicious sections of flame. Vaguely, at times, she +thought she caught the shouting of men, but all the heavens seemed full +of roaring. + +When Zen reached the water the smoke was hanging low on it, and she +drove her horse well in. Then she swung down the stream, believing that +by making a detour in this way she could pass the wedge of fire that had +interrupted her and get back on to the trail leading to Landson’s. +She was coughing with the smoke, but rode on in the confidence that +presently it would lift. + +It did. A whip of wind raised it like a strong arm throwing off a +blanket. She sat up and breathed freely. The hot sun shone through rifts +in the canopy of smoke; the blue sky looked down serene and unmoved by +this outburst of the elements. Then as Zen brought her eyes back to +the water she saw a man on horseback not forty yards ahead. Her first +thought was that it must be one of the fire fighters, driven like +herself to safety, but a second glance revealed George Drazk. For +a moment she had an impulse to wheel and ride out, but even as she +smothered that impulse a tinge of color rose in her cheeks that she +should for a moment have entertained it. To let George Drazk think she +was afraid of him would be utmost humiliation. + +She continued straight down the stream, but he had already seen her and +was headed her way. In the excitement of what he had just done Drazk was +less responsible than usual. + +“Hello, Zen!” he said. “Mighty decent of you to ride down an’ meet me +like this. Mighty decent, Zen!” + +“I didn’t ride down to meet you, Drazk, and you know it. Keep out of the +way or I’ll use a whip on you!” + +“Oh, how haughty! Y.D. all over! Never mind, dear, I like you all the +better for that. Who wants a tame horse? An’ as for comin’ down to meet +me, what’s the odds, so long as we’ve met?” + +He had turned his horse and blocked the way in front of her. When Zen’s +horse came within reach Drazk caught him by the bridle. + +“Will you let go?” the girl said, speaking as calmly as she could, but +in a white passion. “Will you let go of that bridle, or shall I make +you?” + +He looked her full in the face. “Gad, but you’re a stunner!” he +exclaimed. “I’m glad we met--here.” + +She brought her whip with a biting cut around the wrist that held her +bridle. Drazk winced, but did not let go. + +“Jus’ for that, young Y.D.,” he hissed, “jus’ for that we drop all +formalities, so to speak.” + +With a dexterous spurring he brought his horse alongside and threw an +arm about Zen before she could beat him off. She used her whip at short +range on his face, but had not arm-room in which to land a blow. They +were stirrup-deep in water, and as they struggled the horses edged in +deeper still. Finding that she could not beat Drazk off Zen clutched +her saddle and drove the spurs into her horse. At this unaccustomed +treatment he plunged wildly forward, but Drazk’s grip on her was too +strong to be broken. The manoeuvre had, however, the effect of unhorsing +Drazk. He fell in the water, but kept his grip on Zen. With his free +hand he still had the reins of his own horse, and he managed also to +get hold of hers. Although her horse was plunging and jumping, Drazk’s +strong grip on his rein kept him from breaking away. + +“You fight well, Zen, damn you--you fight well,” he cried. “So you +might. You played with me--you made a fool of me. We’ll see who’s the +fool in the end.” With a mighty wrench he tore her from her saddle and +she found herself struggling with him in the water. + +“If I put you under for a minute I guess you’ll be good,” he threatened. +“I’ll half drown you, Zen, if I have to.” + +“Go ahead,” she challenged. “I’ll drown myself, if I have to.” + +“Not just yet, Zen; not just yet. Afterwards you can do as you like.” + +In their struggles they had been getting gradually into deeper water. At +this moment they found their feet carried free, and the horses began +to swim for the shore. Drazk held to both reins with one hand, still +clutching his victim with the other. More than once they went under +water together and came up half choking. + +Zen was not a good swimmer, but she would gladly have broken away and +taken chances with the current. Once on land she would be at his mercy. +She was using her head frantically, but could think of no device to foil +him. It was not her practice to carry weapons; her whip had already gone +down the stream. Presently she saw a long leather thong floating out +from the saddle of Drazk’s horse. It was no larger than a whiplash; +apparently it was a spare lace which Drazk carried, and which had worked +loose in the struggle. It was floating close to Drazk. + +“Don’t let me sink, George!” she cried frantically, in sudden fright. +“Save me! I won’t fight any more.” + +“That’s better,” he said, drawing her up to him. “I knew you’d come to +your senses.” + +Her hand reached the lash. With a quick motion of the arm, such as is +given in throwing a rope, she had looped it once around his neck. Then, +pulling the lash violently, she fought herself out of his grip. He +clutched at her wildly, but could reach only some stray locks of her +brown hair which had broken loose and were floating on the water. + +She saw his eyes grow round and big and horrified; saw his mouth open +and refuse to close; heard strange little gurgles and chokings. But she +did not let go. + +“When you insulted me this morning I promised to settle with you; I did +not expect to have the chance so soon.” + +His head had gone under water.... Suddenly she realized that he was +drowning. She let go of the thong, clutched her horse’s tail, and was +pulled quickly ashore. + +Sitting on the gravel, she tried to think. Drazk had disappeared; his +horse had landed somewhat farther down.... Doubtless Drazk had drowned. +Yes, that would be the explanation. Why change it? + +Zen turned it over in her mind. Why make any explanations? It would be +a good thing to forget. She could not have done otherwise under the +circumstances; no jury would expect her to do otherwise. But why trouble +a jury about it? + +“He got what was coming to him,” she said to herself presently. She +admitted no regret. On the contrary, her inborn self-confidence, her +assurance that she could take care of herself under any circumstances, +seemed to be strengthened by the experience. + +She got up, drew her hair into some kind of shape, and scrambled a +little way up the steep bank. Clouds of smoke were rolling up the +valley. She did not grasp the significance of the fact at the first +glance, but in a moment it impacted home to her. The wind had changed! +Her help now would be needed, not by Mrs. Landson, but probably at their +own camp. She sprang on her horse, re-crossed the stream, and set out on +a gallop for the camp. On the way she had to ride through one thin line +of fire, which she accomplished successfully. Through the smoke she +could dimly see Transley’s gang fighting the back-fires. She knew that +was in good hands, and hastened on to the camp. Zen had had prairie +experience enough to know that in hours like this there is almost sure +to be something or somebody, in vital need, overlooked. + +She galloped into the camp and found only Tompkins there. He had already +run a little back-fire to protect the tents and the chuck-wagon. + +“How goes it, Tompkins?” she cried, bursting upon him like a courier +from battle. + +“All set here, Ma’am,” he answered. “All set an’ safe. But they’ll never +hold the main fire; it’ll go up the valley hell-scootin’,--beggin’ your +pardon, Ma’am.” + +“Anyone live up the valley?” + +“There is. There’s the Lints--squatters about six miles up--it was +from them I got the cream an’ fresh eggs you was good enough to notice, +Ma’am. An’ there’s no men folks about; jus’ Mrs. Lint an’ a young herd +of little Lints; least, that’s all was there las’ night.” + +“I must go up,” said Zen, with instant decision. “I can get there before +the fire, and as the Lints are evidently farmers there will be some +plowed land, or at least a plow with which to run a furrow so that we +can start a back-fire. Direct me.” + +Tompkins directed her as to the way, and, leaving a word of explanation +to be passed on to her father, she was off. A half hour’s hard riding +brought her to Lint’s, but she found that this careful settler had made +full provision against such a contingency as was now come about. The +farm buildings, implements, stables, everything was surrounded, not by a +fire-guard, but by a broad plowed field. Mrs. Lint, however, was little +less thankful for Zen’s interest than she would have been had their +little steading been in danger. She pressed Zen to wait and have at +least a cup of tea, and the girl, knowing that she could be of little +or no service down the valley, allowed herself to be persuaded. In this +little harbor of quiet her mind began to arrange the day’s events. The +tragic happening at the river was as yet too recent to appear real; had +it not been for the touch of her wet clothing Zen could have thought +that all an unhappy dream of days ago. She reflected that neither +Tompkins nor Mrs. Lint had commented upon her appearance. The hot sun +had soon dried her outer apparel, and her general dishevelled condition +was not remarkable on such a day as this. + +The wind had gone down as the afternoon waned, and the fire was working +up the valley leisurely when Zen set out on her return trip. A couple of +miles from the Lint homestead she met its advance guard. It was evening +now; the sun shone dull red through the banked clouds of smoke resting +against the mountains to the west; the flames danced and flickered, +advanced and receded, sprang up and died down again, along mile after +mile of front. It was a beautiful thing to behold, and Zen drew her +horse to a stop on a hill-top to take in the grandeur of the scene. Near +at hand frolicking flames were working about the base of the hill, +and far down the valley and over the foothills the flanks of the fire +stretched like lines of impish infantry in single file. + +Suddenly she heard the sound of hoofs, and a rider drew up at her side. +She supposed him one of Transley’s men, but could not recall having seen +him in the camp. He sat his horse with an ease and grace that her eye +was quick to appraise; he removed his broad felt hat before he spoke; +and he did not call her “ma’am.” + +“Pardon me--I believe I am speaking to Y.D.’s daughter?” he asked, and +before waiting for a reply hastened to introduce himself. “My name is +Dennison Grant, foreman on the Landson ranch.” + +“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I thought--I thought you were one of Mr. +Transley’s men.” Then, with a quick sense of the barrier between them, +she added, “I hope you don’t think that I--that we--had anything to do +with this?” She indicated the ruined valley with her hand. + +“No more than I had to do with those coward’s stakes,” he answered. +“Neither of us understand just now, but can we take that much for +granted?” + +There was something about him that rather appealed to her. “I think we +can,” she said, simply. + +For a moment they watched the kaleidoscopic scene below them. “It may +help you to understand,” she continued, “if I say that I was riding down +to see if I could be of some use to Mrs. Landson when the wind changed, +and I saw I would be more likely to be needed here.” + +“And it may help you to understand,” he said, “if I say that as soon as +immediate danger to the Landson ranch was over I rode up to Transley’s +camp. Only the cook was there, and he told me of your having set out +to help Mrs. Lint, so I followed up. Fortunately the fire has lost its +punch; it will probably go out through the night.” + +There was a short silence, in which she began to realize her peculiar +position. This man was the rival of Transley and Linder in the business +of hay-cutting in the valley. He was the foreman of the Landson +crowd--Landson, against whom her father had been voicing something very +near to murder threats not many hours ago. Had she met him before the +fire she would have spurned and despised him, but nothing unites the +factions of man like a fight against a common elemental enemy. Besides, +there was the question, How DID the fire start? That was a question +which every Landson man would be asking. Grant had been generous about +it; he had asked her to be equally generous about the episode of the +stakes.... And there was something about the man that appealed to her. +She had never felt that way about Transley or Linder. She had been +interested in them; amused, perhaps; out for an adventure, perhaps; but +this man--Nonsense! It was the environment--the romantic setting. As for +Drazk--A quick sense of horror caught her as the memory of his choking +face protruded into her consciousness.... + +“Well, suppose we ride home,” he suggested. “By Jove! The fire has +worked around us.” + +It was true. The hill on which they stood was now entirely surrounded +by a ring of fire, eating slowly up the side. The warmth of its breath +already pressed against their faces; the funnel effect created by the +circle of fire was whipping up a stronger draught. The smoke seemed to +be gathering to a centre above them. + +He swung up close to her. “Will your horse face it?” he asked. “If not, +we’d better blindfold him.” + +“I’ll try him,” she said. “He was all right this afternoon, but he was +reckless then with a hard gallop.” + +Zen’s horse trotted forward at her urging to within a dozen yards of the +circle of fire. Then he stopped, snorting and shivering. She rode back +up the hill. + +“Better blindfold him,” Grant advised, pulling off his leather coat. “A +sleeve of my shirt should be about right. Will you cut it off?” + +She protested. + +“There’s no time to lose,” he reminded her, as he placed his knife in +her hand. “My horse will go through it all right.” + +So urged she deftly cut off his sleeve above the elbow and drew it +through the bridle of her horse across his eyes. + +“Now keep your head down close to his neck. You’ll go through all right. +Give him the spurs, and good luck!” he shouted. + +She was already careering down the hillside. A few paces from the fire +the horse plunged into a badger hole and fell headlong. She went over +his head, down, with a terrific shock, almost in the very teeth of the +fire. + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +When Zen came to herself it was with a sense of a strange swimming in +her head. Gradually it resolved itself into a sound of water about her +head; a splashing, fighting water; two heads in the water; two heads in +the water; a lash floating in the water-- + +“Oh!” She was sure she felt water on her face.... + +“Where am I?” + +“You’re all right--you’ll be all right in a little while.” + +“But where am I? What has happened?” She tried to sit up. All was dark. +“Where am I?” she demanded. + +“Don’t be alarmed, Zen--I think your name is Zen,” she heard a man’s +voice saying. “You’ve been hurt, but you’ll be all right presently.” + +Then the curtain lifted. “You are Dennison Grant,” she said. “I remember +you now. But what has happened? Why am I here--with you?” + +“Well, so far, you’ve been enjoying about three hours’ unconsciousness,” + he told her. “At a distance which seems about a mile from here--although +it may be less--is a little pond. I’ve carried water in the sleeve of my +coat--fortunately it is leather--and poured it somewhat generously upon +your brow. And at last I’ve been rewarded by a conscious word.” + +She tried to sit up, but desisted when a sudden twitch of pain held her +fast. + +“Let me help you,” he said, gently. “We have camped, as you may notice, +on a big, flat rock. I found it not far from the scene of the accident, +so I carried you over to it. It is drier than the earth, and, for the +forepart of the night at least, will be warmer.” With a strong arm about +her shoulders he drew her into a sitting posture. + +Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. “What’s wrong with my +foot?” she demanded. “My boot’s off.” + +“I’m afraid you turned your ankle getting free from your stirrup,” he +explained. “I had to do a little surgery. I could find nothing broken. +It will be painful, but I fear there is nothing to do but bear it.” + +She reached down and felt her foot. It was neatly bandaged with cloth +very much like that which she had used to blindfold Quiver. It was easy +to surmise where it came from. Evidently her protector had stopped at +nothing. + +“Well, are we to stay here permanently?” she asked, presently. + +“Only for the night,” he told her. “If we’re lucky, not that long. +Search parties will be hunting for you, and they will doubtless ride +this way. Both of our horses bolted in the fire--” + +“Oh yes, the fire! Tell me what happened.” + +He hesitated. + +“I remember riding into the fire,” she continued, “and then next thing I +was on this rock. How did it all happen?” + +“Your horse fell,” he explained, “just as you reached the fire, and +threw you, pretty heavily, to the ground. I was behind, so I dismounted +and dragged you through.” + +“Oh!” She felt her face. “But I am not even singed!” she exclaimed. + +It was plain that he was holding something back. She turned and laid her +fingers on his arm. “Tell me how you did it,” she pressed. + +The darkness hid his modest confusion. “It was really nothing,” he +stammered. “You see, I had a leather coat, and I just threw it over your +head--and mine--and dragged you out.” + +She was silent for a moment while the meaning of his words came home to +her. Then she placed her hand frankly in his. + +“Thank you,” she said, and even in the darkness she knew that their eyes +had met. + +“You are very resourceful,” she continued presently. “Must we sit here +all night?” + +“I can think of no alternative,” he confessed. “If we had fire-arms +we could shoot a signal, or if there were grass about we could start a +fire, although it probably would not be noticed with so many glows on +the horizon to-night.” He stopped to look about. Dull splashes of red +in the sky pointed out remnants of the day’s conflagration still eating +their way through the foothills. The air was full of the pungent but not +unpleasant smell of burnt grass. + +“A pretty hard night to send a signal,” he said, “but they’re almost +sure to ride this way.” + +She wondered why he did not offer to walk to the camp for help; it +could not be more than four or five miles. Suddenly she thought she +understood. + +“I am not afraid to stay here alone,” she said, with a little laugh. +It was the first time Grant had heard her laugh, and he thought it very +musical indeed. “I’ve slept out many a night, and you would be back +within a couple of hours.” + +“I’m quite sure you’re not afraid,” he agreed, “but, you see, I am. You +got quite a tap on the head, and for some time before you came to you +were talking--rather foolishly. Now if I should leave you it is not +only possible, but quite probable, that you would lapse again into +unconsciousness.... I really think you’ll have to put up with me here.” + +“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of that!... Did I--did I talk--foolishly?” + +“Rather. Seemed to think you were swimming--or fighting--I couldn’t be +sure which. Sometimes you seemed to be doing both.” + +“Oh!” With a cold chill the events of the day came back upon her. That +struggle in the water; it came to her now like a bad dream out of the +long, long past. How much had she said? How much would she have given to +know what she said? She felt herself recounting events.... + +Presently she pulled herself up with a start. She must not let him think +her moody. + +“Well, if we MUST enjoy each other’s company, we may as well do so +companionably,” she said, with an effort at gaiety. “Let us talk. Tell +me about yourself.” + +“First things first,” he parried. + +“Oh, I’ve nothing to tell. My life has been very unromantic. A few years +at school, and the rest of it on the range. A very every-day kind of +existence.” + +“I think it’s the ‘every-day kind of existence’ that IS romantic,” he +returned. “It is a great mistake to think of romance as belonging to +other times and other places. Even the most commonplace person has +experienced romance enough for a dozen books. Quite possibly he has not +recognized the romance, but it was there. The trouble is that with our +limited sense of humor, what we think of as romance in other people’s +lives becomes tragedy in our own.” + +How much DID he know?... “Yes,” she said, “I suppose that is so.” + +“I know it is so,” he went on. “If we could read the thoughts--know the +experiences--of those nearest to us, we would never need to look out of +our own circles for either romance or tragedy. But it is as well that +we can’t. Take the experience of to-day, for example. I admit it has +not been a commonplace day, and yet it has not been altogether +extraordinary. Think of the experiences we have been through just this +day, and how, if they were presented in fiction they would be romantic, +almost unbelievable. And here we are at the close, sitting on a rock, +matter-of-fact people in a matter-of-fact world, accepting everything as +commonplace and unexceptional.” + +“Not quite that,” she said daringly. “I see that you are neither +commonplace nor unexceptional.” She spoke with sudden impulse out of the +depth of her sincerity. She had not met a man like this before. In her +mind she fixed him in contrast with Transley, the self-confident +and aggressive, and Linder, the shy and unassertive. None of those +adjectives seemed to fit this new acquaintance. Nevertheless, he +suffered nothing by the contrast. + +“If I had been bright enough I would have said that first,” he +apologized, “but I got rather carried away in one of my pet theories +about romance. Now my life, I suppose, to many people would seem quite +tame and unromantic, but to me it has been a delightful succession of +somewhat placid adventures. It began in a very orthodox way, in a very +orthodox family. My father, under the guidance, no doubt, of whatever +star governs such lucky affairs, became possessed of a piece of land. In +doing so he contributed to society no service whatever, so far as I +have been able to ascertain. But it so fell about that society, in +considerable numbers, wanted his land to live on, so society made of +my father a wealthy man, and gave him power over many people. Could +anything be more romantic than that? Could the fairy tales of your +childhood surpass it for benevolent irresponsibility?” + +“My father has also become wealthy,” she said, “although I never thought +of it in that way.” + +“Yes, but in exchange for his wealth your father has given service to +society; supplied many thousands of steers for hungry people to eat. +That’s a different story, but not less romantic. + +“Well, to proceed. I was brought up to fit my station in life, whatever +that means. There were just two boys of us, and I was the elder. My +father had become a broker. I believe he had become quite a successful +broker, using the word in its ordinary sense, which denotes the making +of money. You see, he already had too much money, so it was very easy +for him to make more. He wanted me to go into the office with him, but +some way I didn’t fit in. I’ve no doubt there was lots of romance there, +too, but I was of the wrong nature; I simply couldn’t get enthusiastic +over it. As we already had more money than we could possibly spend on +things that were good for us, I failed to see the point in sitting up +nights to increase it. Being of a frank disposition I confided in my +father that I felt I was wasting my time in a broker’s office. He, being +of an equally frank disposition, confided in me that he entertained the +same opinion. + +“Then I delivered myself of some of my pet theories about wealth. I told +him that I didn’t believe that any man had a right to money unless he +earned it in return for service given to society, and I said that as +society had to supply the money, society should determine the amount. I +confessed that I was a little hazy about how that was to be carried out, +but I insisted that the principle was right, and, that being so, the +working of it out was only a matter of detail. I realize now that this +was all fanatical heresy to my father; I remember the pained look that +came into his eyes. I thought at the time that it was anger, but I know +now that it was grief--grief and humiliation that a son of his should +entertain such wild and unbalanced ideas. + +“Well, there was more talk, and the upshot of it was that I got out, +accompanied by an assurance from my father that I would never +be burdened with any of the family ducats. Roy--my younger +brother--succeeded to the worries of wealth, and I came to the ranges +where, no doubt to the deep chagrin of my father, I have been able to +make a living, and have, incidentally, been profoundly happy. I’ll take +a wager that to-day I look ten years younger than Roy, that I can lick +him with one hand, that I have more real friends than he has, and that +I’m getting more out of life than he is. I’m a man of whims. When they +beckon I follow.” + +Grant had been talking intensely. He paused now, feeling that his +enthusiasm had carried him into rather fuller confidences than he had +intended. + +“I’m sorry I bored you with that harangue,” he said contritely. “You +couldn’t possibly be interested in it.” + +“On the contrary, I am very much interested in it,” she protested. “It +seems so much finer for a man to make his own way, rather than be lifted +up by someone else. I am sure you are already doing well in the West. +Some day you will go back to your father with more money than he has.” + +Grant uttered an amused little laugh. + +“I was afraid you would say that,” he answered. “You see, you don’t +understand me, either. I don’t want to make money. Can you understand +that?” + +“Don’t want to make money? Why not?” + +“Why should I?” + +“Well, everybody does. Money is power--it is a mark of success. It would +open up a wider life for you. It would bring you into new circles. Some +day you will want to marry and settle down, and money would enable you +to meet the kind of women--” + +She stopped, confused. She had plunged farther than she had intended. + +“You’re all wrong,” he said amusedly. It did not even occur to Zen +that he was contradicting her. She had not been accustomed to being +contradicted, but then, neither had she been accustomed to men like +Dennison Grant, nor to conversations such as had developed. She was too +interested to be annoyed. + +“You’re all wrong, Miss--?” + +“I don’t wonder that you can’t fill in my name,” she said. “Nobody knows +Dad except as Y.D. But I heard you call me Zen--” + +“That was when you were coming out of your unconsciousness. I apologize +for the liberty taken. I thought it might recall you--” + +“Well, I’m still coming out,” she interrupted. “I am beginning to feel +that I have been unconscious for a very long time indeed. Let me hear +why you don’t want money.” + +Grant was aware of a pleasant glow excited by her frank interest. She +was altogether a desirable girl. + +“I have observed,” he said, “that poor people worry over what they +haven’t got, and rich people worry over what they have. It is my +disposition not to worry over anything. You said that money is power. +That is one of its deceits. It offers a man power, but in reality it +makes him its slave. It enchains him for life; I have seen it in too +many cases--I am not mistaken. As for opening up a wider life, what +wider life could there be than this which I--which you and I--are +living?” + +She wondered why he had said “you and I.” Evidently he was wondering +too, for he fell into reflection. She changed her position to ease the +dull pain in her ankle, which his talk had almost driven from her +mind. The rock had a perpendicular edge, so she let her feet hang over, +resting the injured one upon the other. He was sitting in a similar +position. The silence of the night had gathered about them, broken +occasionally by the yapping of coyotes far down the valley. Segments of +dull light fringed the horizon; the breeze was again blowing from the +west, mild and balmy. Presently one of the segments of light grew and +grew. It was as though it were rushing up the valley. They watched +it, fascinated; then burst into laughter as the orb of the moon became +recognizable.... There was something very companionable about watching +the moon rise, as they did. + +“The greatest wealth in the world,” he said at length, as though his +thoughts had been far afield, searching, perchance, the mazy corridors +of Truth for this atom of wisdom; “the greatest wealth in the world is +to be able to do something useful. That is the only wealth which will +not be disturbed in the coming reorganization of society.” + +Zen did not reply. For the first time in her life she stood convicted, +before her own mind, of a very profound ignorance. Dennison Grant had +been drawing back the curtain of a world of the existence of which she +had never known. He had talked to her about “the coming reorganization +of society”? What did it mean? She was at home in discussions of herds +or horses; she was at home with the duties of kitchen or reception-room; +she was at home with her father or Transley or Linder or Drazk or +Tompkins the cook, but Dennison Grant in an hour had carried her into a +far country, where she would be hopelessly lost but for his guidance.... +Yet it seemed a good and interesting country. She wanted to enter in--to +know it better. + +“Tell me about the coming reorganization of society,” she said. + +“That is an all-night order,” he returned. “Besides, I can’t tell you +all, because I don’t know all. I know only very, very little. I see my +little gleam of light and keep my eye close upon it. But you must know +that society is always in a state of reorganization. Nothing continues +as it was. Those who dismiss a problem glibly by saying it has always +been so and always will be so don’t read history and don’t understand +human nature.” + +He turned toward her as interest in his theme developed. The moonlight +was now pouring upon them; her face was beautiful and fine as marble +in its soft rays. For a moment he hesitated, overwhelmed by a sudden +realization of her attractiveness. He had just been saying that the law +of nature was the law of change, and nature itself stood up to refute +him. + +He brought himself back to earth. “I was saying that everything +changes,” he continued. “Look at our economic system, for instance. Not +so many centuries ago the man who got the most wealth was the man with +the biggest muscle and the toughest skin. He wielded a stout club, and +what he wanted, he took. His system of operation was simple and direct. +You have money, you have cattle, you have a wife--I’m speaking of +the times that were. I am stronger than you. I take them. Simplicity +itself!” + +“But very unjust,” she protested. + +“Our sense of justice is due to our education,” he continued. “If we are +taught to believe that a certain thing is just, we believe it is just. +I am convinced that there is no sense of justice inherent in humanity; +whatever sense we have is the result of education, and the kind of +justice we believe in is the kind of justice to which we are educated. +For example, the justice of the plains is not the justice of the cities; +the justice of the vigilance committee is not the justice of judge and +jury. Now to get back to our subject. When Baron Battle Ax, back in +the fifth or sixth century, knocked all his rivals on the head and +took their wealth away from them, I suppose there was here and there an +advanced thinker who said the thing was unjust, but I am quite sure the +great majority of people said things had always been that way and always +would be that way. But the little minority of thinkers gradually grew +in strength. The Truth was with them. It is worthy of notice that the +advance guard of Truth always travels with minorities. And the day came +that society organized itself to say that the man who uses physical +force to take wealth from another is an enemy of society and must not be +allowed at large. + +“But we have passed largely out of the era of physical force. To-day, an +engineer presses a button and releases more physical force than could be +commanded by all the armies of Rome. Brain power is to-day the dominant +power. And just as physical force was once used to take wealth without +earning it, so is brain force now used to take wealth without earning +it. And just as the masses in the days of Battle Ax said things had +always been that way and always would be that way, just so do the masses +in these days of brain supremacy say things have always been that way +and always will be that way. But just as there was a minority with an +advanced vision of Truth in those days, so is there a minority with an +advanced vision of Truth in these days. You may be absolutely sure that, +just as society found a way to deal with muscle brigands, so also it +will find a way to deal with brain brigands. I confess I don’t see how +the details are to be worked out, but there must be a plan under which +the value of the services rendered to society by every man and every +woman will be determined, and they will be rewarded according to the +services rendered.” + +“Is that Socialism?” she ventured. + +“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Certainly it does not contemplate +an equal distribution of the world’s wealth. Some men are a menace to +themselves and society when they have a hundred dollars. Others can be +trusted with a hundred million. All men have not been equally gifted +by nature--we know that. We can’t make them equal. But surely we can +prevent the gifted ones from preying upon those who are not gifted. That +is what the coming reorganization of society will aim to do.” + +“It is very interesting,” she said. “And very deep. I have never heard +it discussed before. Why don’t people think about these things more?” + +“I don’t know,” he answered, “but I suppose it is because they are too +busy in the fight. When a self was dodging Battle Ax he hadn’t much time +to think about evolving a Magna Charta. But most of all I suppose it is +just natural laziness. People refuse to think. It calls for effort. Most +people would find it easier to pitch a load of hay than to think of a +new thought.” + +The moon was now well up; the smoke clouds had been scattered by the +breeze; the sky was studded with diamonds. Zen had a feeling of being +very happy. True, a certain haunting spectre at times would break into +her consciousness, but in the companionship of such a man as Grant she +could easily beat it off. She studied the face in the moon, and invited +her soul. She was living through a new experience--an experience she +could not understand. In spite of the discomfort of her injuries, in +spite of the events of the day, she was very, very happy.... + +If only that horrid memory of Drazk would not keep tormenting her! She +began to have some glimpse of what remorse must mean. She did not blame +herself; she could not have done otherwise; and yet--it was horrible to +think about, and it would not stay away. She felt a tremendous desire to +tell Grant all about it.... She wondered how much he knew. He must have +discovered that her clothing had been wet. + +She shivered slightly. + +“You’re cold,” he said, as he placed his arm about her, and there was +something very far removed from political economy in the timbre of his +voice. + +“I’m a little chilly,” she admitted. “I had to swim my horse across the +river to-day--he got into a deep spot--and I got wet.” She congratulated +herself that she had made a very clever explanation. + +He put his coat about her shoulders and drew it tight. Then he sat +beside her in silence. There were many things he could have said, +but this seemed to be neither the time nor the place. Grant was not +Transley. He had for this girl a delicate consideration which Transley’s +nature could never know. Grant was a thinker--Transley a doer. Grant +knew that the charm which enveloped him in this girl’s presence was the +perfectly natural product of a set of conditions. He was worldly-wise +enough to suspect that Zen also felt that charm. It was as natural as +the bursting of a seed in moist soil; as natural as the unfolding of a +rose in warm air.... + +Presently he felt her head rest against his shoulder. He looked down +upon her in awed delight. Her eyes had closed; her lips were smiling +faintly; her figure had relaxed. He could feel her warm breath upon his +face. He could have touched her lips with his. + +Slowly the moon traced its long arc in the heavens. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Just as the first flush of dawn mellowed the East Grant heard the +pounding of horses’ feet and the sound of voices borne across the +valley. They rapidly approached; he could tell by the hard pounding of +the hoofs that they were on a trail which he took to be the one he had +followed before he met Zen. It passed possibly a hundred yards to the +left. He must in some way make his presence known. + +The girl had slept soundly, almost without stirring. Now he must wake +her. He shook her gently, and called her name; her eyes opened; he could +see them, strange and wondering, in the thin grey light. Then, with a +sudden start, she was quite awake. + +“I have been sleeping!” she exclaimed, reproachfully. “You let me +sleep!” + +“No use of two watching the moon,” he returned, lightly. + +“But you shouldn’t have let me sleep,” she reprimanded. “Besides, you +had to stay awake. You have had no sleep at all!” + +There was a sympathy in her voice very pleasant to the ear. But Grant +could not continue so delightful an indulgence. + +“I had to wake you,” he explained. “There are several people riding up +the valley; undoubtedly a search party. I must attract their attention.” + +They listened, and could now hear the hoof-beats close at hand. Grant +called; not a loud shout; it seemed little more than his speaking voice, +but instantly there was silence, save for the echo of the sound rolling +down the valley. Then a voice answered, and Grant gave a word or two of +directions. In a minute or two several horsemen loomed up through the +vague light. + +“Here we are,” said Zen, as she distinguished her father. “Gone lame on +the off foot and held up for repairs.” + +Y.D. swung down from his saddle. “Are you all right, Zen?” he cried, as +he advanced with outstretched arms. There was an eagerness and a relief +in his voice which would have surprised many who knew Y.D. only as a +shrewd cattleman. + +Zen accepted and returned his embrace, with a word of assurance that she +was really nothing the worse. Then she introduced her companion. + +“This is Mr. Dennison Grant, foreman of the Landson ranch, Dad.” + +Grant extended his hand, but Y.D. hesitated. The truce occasioned by the +fire did not by any means imply permanent peace. Far from it, with the +valley in ruins-- + +Y.D. was stiffening, but his daughter averted what would in another +moment have been an embarrassing situation with a quick remark. + +“This is no time, even for explanations,” she said, “except that Mr. +Grant saved my life last evening at the risk of his own, and has lost a +night’s sleep for his pains.” + +“That was a man’s work,” said Y.D. It would not have been possible +for his lips to have framed a greater compliment. “I’m obliged to you, +Grant. You know how it is with us cattlemen; we run mostly to horns and +hoofs, but I suppose we have some heart, too, if you can find it.” + +They shook hands with as much cordiality as the situation permitted, and +then Zen introduced Transley and Linder, who were in the party. There +were two or three others whom she did not know, but they all shook +hands. + +“What happened, Zen?” said Transley, with his usual directness. “Give us +the whole story.” + +Then she told them what she knew, from the point where she had met Grant +on the fire-encircled hill. + +“Two lucky people--two lucky people,” was all Transley’s comment. Words +could not have expressed the jealousy he felt. But Linder was not too +shy to place his hand with a friendly pressure upon Grant’s shoulder. + +“Good work,” he said, and with two words sealed a friendship. + +Two of the unnamed members of the party volunteered their horses to +Zen and Grant, and all hands started back to camp. Y.D. talked almost +garrulously; not even himself had known how heavily the hand of Fate had +lain on him through the night. + +“The haymakin’ is all off, Darter,” he said. “We will trek back to the +Y.D. as soon as you feel fit. The steers will have to take chances next +winter.” + +The girl professed her fitness to make the trip at once, and indeed they +did make it that very day. Y.D. pressed Grant to remain for breakfast, +and Tompkins, notwithstanding the demoralization of equipment and +supplies effected by the fire, again excelled himself. After breakfast +the old rancher found occasion for a word with Grant. + +“You know how it is, Grant,” he said. “There’s a couple of things that +ain’t explained, an’ perhaps it’s as well all round not to press for +opinions. I don’t know how the iron stakes got in my meadow, an’ you +don’t know how the fire got in yours. But I give you Y.D.’s word--which +goes at par except in a cattle trade--” and Y.D. laughed cordially at +his own limitations--“I give you my word that I don’t know any more +about the fire than you do.” + +“And I don’t know anything more about the stakes than you do,” returned +Grant. + +“Well, then, let it stand at that. But mind,” he added, with returning +heat, “I’m not committin’ myself to anythin’ in advance. This grass’ll +grow again next year, an’ by heavens if I want it I’ll cut it! No son of +a sheep herder can bluff Y.D!” + +Grant did not reply. He had heard enough of Y.D.’s boisterous nature to +make some allowances. + +“An’ mind I mean it,” continued Y.D., whose chagrin over being baffled +out of a thousand tons of hay overrode, temporarily at least, his +appreciation of Grant’s services. “Mind, I mean it. No monkey-doodles +next season, young man.” + +Obviously Y.D. was becoming worked up, and it seemed to Grant that the +time had come to speak. + +“There will be none,” he said, quietly. “If you come over the hills to +cut the South Y.D. next summer I will personally escort you home again.” + +Y.D. stood open-mouthed. It was preposterous that this young upstart +foreman on a second-rate ranch like Landson’s should deliberately defy +him. + +“You see, Y.D.,” continued Grant, with provoking calmness, “I’ve seen +the papers. You’ve run a big bluff in this country. You’ve occupied +rather more territory than was coming to you. In a word, you’ve been a +good bit of a bully. Now--let me break it to you gently--those good old +days are over. In future you’re going to stay on your own side of the +line. If you crowd over you’ll be pushed back. You have no more right +to the hay in this valley than you have to the hide on Landson’s steers, +and you’re not going to cut it any more, at all.” + +Y.D. exploded in somewhat ineffective profanity. He had a wide +vocabulary of invective, but most of it was of the stand-and-fight +variety. There is some language which is not to be used, unless you are +willing to have it out on the ground, there and then. Y.D. had no such +desire. Possibly a curious sense of honor entered into the case. It was +not fair to call a young man names, and although there was considerable +truth in Grant’s remark that Y.D. was a bully, his bullying did not take +that form. Possibly, also, he recalled at that moment the obligation +under which Zen’s accident had placed him. At any rate he wound up +rather lamely. + +“Grant,” he said, “if I want that hay next year I’ll cut it, spite o’ +hell an’ high water.” + +“All right, Y.D.,” said Grant, cheerfully. “We’ll see. Now, if you can +spare me a horse to ride home, I’ll have him sent back immediately.” + +Y.D. went to find Transley and arrange for a horse, and in a moment Zen +appeared from somewhere. + +“You’ve been quarreling with Dad,” she said, half reproachfully, and yet +in a tone which suggested that she could understand. + +“Not exactly that,” he parried. “We were just having a frank talk with +each other.” + +“I know something of Dad’s frank talks... I’m sorry... I would have +liked to ask you to come and see me--to see us--my mother would be glad +to see you. I can hardly ask you to come if you are going to be bad +friends with Dad.” + +“No, I suppose not,” he admitted. + +“You were very good to me; very--decent,” she continued. + +At that moment Transley, Linder, and Y.D. appeared, with two horses. + +“Linder will ride over with you and bring back the spare beast,” said +Y.D. + +Grant shook hands, rather formally, with Y.D. and Transley, and then +with Zen. She murmured some words of thanks, and just as he would have +withdrawn his hand he felt her fingers tighten very firmly about his. He +answered the pressure, and turned quickly away. + +Transley immediately struck camp, and Y.D. and his daughter drove +homeward, somewhat painfully, over the blackened hills. + +Transley lost no time in finding other employment. It was late in the +season to look for railway contracts, and continued dry weather had made +grading, at best, a somewhat difficult business. Influx of ready money +and of those who follow it had created considerable activity in a +neighboring centre which for twenty years had been the principal +cow-town of the foothill country. In defiance of all tradition, and, +most of all, in defiance of the predictions of the ranchers who had +known it so long for a cow-town and nothing more, the place began to +grow. No one troubled to inquire exactly why it should grow, or how. As +for Transley, it was enough for him that team labor was in demand. He +took a contract, and three days after the fire in the foothills he was +excavating for business blocks about to be built in the new metropolis. + +It was no part of Transley’s plan, however, to quite lose touch with +the people on the Y.D. They were, in fact, the centre about which he had +been doing some very serious thinking. His outspokenness with Zen and +her father had had in it a good deal of bravado--the bravado of a man +who could afford to lose the stake, and smile over it. In short, he +had not cared whether he offended them or not. Transley was a very +self-reliant contractor; he gave, even to the millionaire rancher, +no more homage than he demanded in return.... Still, Zen was a very +desirable girl. As he turned the matter over in his mind Transley became +convinced that he wanted Zen. With Transley, to want a thing meant to +get it. He always found a way. And he was now quite sure that he wanted +Zen. He had not known that positively until the morning when he +found her in the grey light of dawn with Dennison Grant. There was a +suggestion of companionship there between the two which had cut him to +the quick. Like most ambitious men, Transley was intensely jealous. + +Up to this time Transley had not thought seriously of matrimony. A +wife and children he regarded as desirable appendages for declining +years--for the quiet and shade of that evening toward which every active +man looks with such irrational confidence. But for the heat of the +day--for the climb up the hill--they would be unnecessary encumbrances. +Transley always took a practical view of these matters. It need hardly +be stated that he had never been in love; in fact Transley would have +scouted the idea of any passion which would throw the practical to the +winds. That was a thing for weaklings, and, possibly, for women. + +But his attachment for Zen was a very practical matter. Zen was the +only heir to the Y.D. wealth. She would bring to her husband capital and +credit which Transley could use to good advantage in his business. She +would also bring personality--a delightful individuality--of which any +man might be proud. She had that fine combination of attractions which +is expressed in the word charm. She had health, constitution, beauty. +She had courage and sympathy. She had qualities of leadership. She +would bring to him not only the material means to build a house, but the +spiritual qualities which make a home. She would make him the envy of +all his acquaintances. And a jealous man loves to be envied. + +So after the work on the excavations had been properly started Transley +turned over the detail to the always dependable Linder, and, remarking +that he had not had a final settlement with Y.D., set out for the ranch +in the foothills. While spending the long autumn day alone in the buggy +he was able to turn over and develop plans on an even more ambitious +scale than had occurred to him amid the hustle of his men and horses. + +The valley was lying very warm and beautiful in yellow light, and the +setting sun was just capping the mountains with gold and painting great +splashes of copper and bronze on the few clouds becalmed in the heavens, +when Transley’s tired team jogged in among the cluster of buildings +known as the Y.D. The rancher met him at the bunk-house. He greeted +Transley with a firm grip of his great palm, and with jaws open in +suggestion of a sort of carnivorous hospitality. + +“Come up to the house, Transley,” he said, turning the horses over to +the attention of a ranch hand. “Supper is just ready, an’ the women will +be glad to see you.” + +Zen, walking with a limp, met them at the gate. Transley’s eyes +reassured him that he had not been led astray by any process of +idealization; Zen was all his mind had been picturing her. She was worth +the effort. Indeed, a strange sensation of tenderness suffused him as he +walked by her side to the door, supporting her a little with his hand. +There they were ushered in by the rancher’s wife, and Zen herself showed +Transley to a cool room where were white towels and soft water from the +river and quiet and restful furnishings. Transley congratulated himself +that he could hardly hope to be better received. + +After supper he had a social drink with Y.D., and then the two sat on +the veranda and smoked and discussed business. Transley found Y.D. more +liberal in the adjustment than he had expected. He had not yet realized +to what an extent he had won the old rancher’s confidence, and Y.D. was +a man who, when his confidence had been won, never haggled over details. +He was willing to compromise the loss on the operations on the South +Y.D. on a scale that was not merely just, but generous. + +This settled, Transley proceeded to interest Y.D. in the work in which +he was now engaged. He drew a picture of activities in the little +metropolis such as stirred the rancher’s incredulity. + +“Well, well,” Y.D. would say. “Transley, I’ve known that little hole for +about thirty years, an’ never seen it was any good excep’ to get drunk +in.... I’ve seen more things there than is down in the books.” + +“You wouldn’t know the change that has come about in a few months,” said +Transley, with enthusiasm. “Double shifts working by electric light, +Y.D! What do you think of that? Men with rolls of money that would choke +a cow sleeping out in tents because they can’t get a roof over them. +Why, man, I didn’t have to hunt a job there; the job hunted me. I could +have had a dozen jobs at my own price if I could have handled them. It’s +just as if prosperity was a river which had been trickling through that +town for thirty years, and all of a sudden the dam up in the foothills +gives away and down she comes with a rush. Lots which sold a year ago +for a hundred dollars are selling now for five hundred--sometimes more. +Old ranchers living on the bald-headed a few years ago find themselves +today the owners of city property worth millions, and are dressing +uncomfortably, in keeping with their wealth, or vainly trying to drink +up the surplus. So far sense and brains has had nothing to do with it, +Y.D., absolutely nothing. It has been fool luck. But the brains are +coming in now, and the brains will get the money, in the long run.” + +Transley paused and lit another cigar. Y.D. rolled his in his lips, +reflectively. + +“I mind some doin’s in that burg,” he said, as though the memory of them +was of greater importance than all that might be happening now. + +Transley switched back to business. “We ought to be in on it, Y.D.,” + he said. “Not on the fly-by-night stuff; I don’t mean that. But I could +take twice the contracts if I had twice the outfit.” + +Y.D. brought his chair down on to all four legs and removed his cigar. + +“You mean we should hit her together?” he demanded. + +“It would be a great compliment to me, if you had that confidence in me, +and I’m sure it would make some good money for you.” + +“How’d you work it?” + +“You have a bunch of horses running here on the ranch, eating their +heads off. Many of them are broke, and the others would soon tame down +with a scraper behind them. Give them to me and let me put them to work. +I’d have to have equipment, too. Your name on the back of my note would +get it, and you wouldn’t actually have to put up a dollar. Then we’d +make an inventory of what you put into the firm and what I put into it, +and we’d divide the earnings in proportion.” + +“After payin’ you a salary as manager, of course,” suggested Y.D. + +“That’s immaterial. With a bigger outfit and more capital I can make so +much more money out of the earnings that I don’t care whether I get a +salary or not. But I wouldn’t figure on going on contracting all the +time for other people. We might as well have the cream as the skimmed +milk. This is the way it’s done. We go to the owner of a block of lots +somewhere where there’s no building going on. He’s anxious to start +something, because as soon as building starts in that district the lots +will sell for two or three times what they do now. We say to him, ‘Give +us every second lot in your block and we’ll put a house on it.’ In this +way we get the lots for a trifle; perhaps for nothing. Then we build a +lot of houses, more or less to the same plan. We put ‘em up quick and +cheap. We build ‘em to sell, not to live in. Then we mortgage ‘em for +the last cent we can get. Then we put the price up to twice what the +mortgage is and sell them as fast as we can build them, getting our +equity out and leaving the purchasers to settle with the mortgage +company. It’s good for from thirty to forty per cent, profit, not per +annum, but per transaction.” + +“It sounds interesting,” said Y.D., “an’ I suppose I might as well put +my spare horses an’ credit to work. I don’t mind drivin’ down with you +to-morrow an’ looking her over first hand.” + +This was all Transley had hoped for, and the talk turned to less +material matters. After a while Zen joined them, and a little later Y.D. +left to attend to some business at the bunk-house. + +“Your father and I may go into partnership, Zen,” Transley said to her, +when they were alone together. He explained in a general way the venture +that was afoot. + +“That will be very interesting,” she agreed. + +“Will you be interested?” + +“Of course. I am interested in everything that Dad undertakes.” + +“And are you not--will you not be--just a little interested in the +things that I undertake?” + +She paused a moment before replying. The dusk had settled about them, +and he could not see the contour of her face, but he knew that she had +realized the significance of his question. + +“Why yes,” she said at length, “I will be interested in what you +undertake. You will be Dad’s partner.” + +Her evasion nettled him. + +“Zen,” he said, “why shouldn’t we understand each other?” + +“Don’t we?” She had turned slightly toward him, and he could feel the +laughing mockery in her eyes. + +“I rather think we do,” he answered, “only we--at least, you--won’t +admit it.” + +“Oh!” + +“Seriously, Zen, do you imagine I came over here to-day simply to make a +deal with your father?” + +“Wasn’t that worth while?” + +“Of course it was. But it wasn’t the whole purpose--it wasn’t half the +purpose. I wanted to see Y.D., it is true, but more, very much more, I +wanted to see you.” + +She did not answer, and he could only guess what was the trend of her +thoughts. After a silence he continued. + +“You may think I am precipitate. You intimated as much to me once. I am. +I know of no reason why an honest man should go beating about the bush. +When I want something I want it, and I make a bee-line for it. If it is +a contract--if it is a business matter--I go right after it, with all +the energy that’s in me. When I’m looking for a contract I don’t start +by talking about the weather. Well--this is my first experience in love, +and perhaps my methods are all wrong, but it seems to me they should +apply. At any rate a girl of your intelligence will understand.” + +“Applying your business principles,” she interrupted, “I suppose if you +wanted a wife and there was none in sight you would advertise for her?” + +He defended his position. “I don’t see why not,” he declared. “I +can’t understand the general attitude of levity toward matrimonial +advertisements. Apparently they are too open and above-board. Matrimony +should not be committed in a round-about, indirect, hit-or-miss manner. +A young man sees a girl whom he thinks he would like to marry. Does he +go to her house and say, ‘Miss So-and-So, I think I would like to +marry you. Will you allow me to call on you so that we may get better +acquainted, with that object in view?’ He does not. Such honesty would +be considered almost brutal. He calls on her and pretends he would like +to take her to the theatre, if it is in town, or for a ride, if it is in +the country. She pretends she would like to go. Both of them know what +the real purpose is, and both of them pretend they don’t. They start the +farce by pretending a deceit which deceives nobody. They wait for nature +to set up an attraction which shall overrule their judgment, rather than +act by judgment first and leave it to nature to take care of herself. +How much better it would be to be perfectly frank--to boldly announce +the purpose--to come as I now come to you and say, ‘Zen, I want to marry +you. My reason, my judgment, tells me that you would be an ideal mate. +I shall be proud of you, and I will try to make you proud of me. I will +gratify your desires in every way that my means will permit. I pledge +you my fidelity in return for yours. I--I--’ Zen, will you say yes? Can +you believe that there is in my simple words more sincerity than there +could be in any mad ravings about love? You are young, Zen, younger than +I, but you must have observed some things. One of them is that marriage, +founded on mutual respect, which increases with the years, is a much +safer and wiser business than marriage founded on a passion which +quickly burns itself out and leaves the victims cold, unresponsive, with +nothing in common. You may not feel that you know me well enough for a +decision. I will give you every opportunity to know me better--I will do +nothing to deceive you--I will put on no veneer--I will let you know me +as I really am. Will you say yes?” + +He had left his seat and approached her; he was leaning close over her +chair. While his words had suggested marriage on a purely intellectual +basis he did not hesitate to bring his physical presence into the scale. +He was accustomed to having his way--he had always had it--never did he +want it more than he did now.... And although he had made his plea from +the intellectual angle he was sure, he was very, very sure there +was more than that. This girl; whose very presence delighted +him--intoxicated him--would have made him mad-- + +“Will you say yes?” he repeated, and his hands found hers and drew her +with his great strength up from her chair. She did not resist, but when +she was on her feet she avoided his embrace. + +“You must not hurry me,” she whispered. “I must have time to think. I +did not realize what you were saying until--” + +“Say yes now,” he urged. Transley was a man very hard to resist. She +felt as though she were in the grip of a powerful machine; it was as +though she were being swept along by a stream against which her feeble +strength was as nothing. Zen was as nearly frightened as she had ever +been in her vigorous young life. And yet there was something delightful. +It would have been so easy to surrender--it was so hard to resist. + +“Say yes now,” he repeated, drawing her close at last and breathing the +question into her ear. “You shall have time to think--you shall ask your +own heart, and if it does not confirm your words you will be released +from your promise.” + +They heard the footsteps of her father approaching, and Transley waited +no longer for an answer. He turned her face to his; he pressed his lips +against hers. + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Zen thought over the events of that evening until they became a blur in +her memory. Her principal recollection was that she had been quite swept +off her feet. Transley had interpreted her submission as assent, and +she had not corrected him in the vital moment when they stood before her +father that night in the deep shadow of the veranda. + +“Y.D.,” Transley had said, “your consent and your blessing! Zen and I +are to be married as soon as she can be ready.” + +That was the moment at which she should have spoken, but she did not. +She, who had prided herself that she would make a race of it--she, +who had always been able to slip out of a predicament in the nick of +time--stood mutely by and let Transley and her father interpret her +silence as consent. She was not sure that she was sorry; she was not +sure but she would have consented anyway; but Transley had taken the +matter quite out of her hands. And yet she could not bring herself to +feel resentment toward him; that was the strangest part of it. It seemed +that she had come under his domination; that she even had to think as he +would have her think. + +In the darkness she could not see her father’s face, for which she was +sorry; and he could not see hers, for which she was glad. There was a +long moment of tense silence before she heard him say, + +“Well, well! I had a hunch it might come to that, but I didn’t reckon +you youngsters would work so fast.” + +“This was a stake worth working fast for,” Transley was saying, as he +shook Y.D.’s hand. “I wouldn’t trade places with any man alive.” And Zen +was sure he meant exactly what he said. + +“She’s a good girl, Transley,” her father commented; “a good girl, even +if a bit obstrep’rous at times. She’s got spirit, Transley, an’ you’ll +have to handle her with sense. She’s a--a thoroughbred!” + +Y.D. had reached his arms toward his daughter, and at these words he +closed them about her. Zen had never known her father to be emotional; +she had known him to face matters of life and death without the quiver +of an eyelid, but as he held her there in his arms that night she felt +his big frame tremble. Suddenly she had a powerful desire to cry. She +broke from his embrace and ran upstairs to her room. + +When she came down her father and mother and Transley were sitting about +the table in the living-room; the room hung with trophies of the chase +and of competition; the room which had been the nucleus of the Y.D. +estate. There was a colored cover on the table, and the shaded oil lamp +in the centre sent a comfortable glow of light downward and about. +The mammoth shadows of the three people fell on the log walls, darting +silently from position to position with their every movement. + +Her mother arose as Zen entered the room and took her hands in a warm, +tender grip. + +“You’re early leaving us,” she said. “I’m not saying I object. I think +Mr. Transley will make you a good husband. He is a man of energy, like +your father. He will do well. You will not know the hardships that +we knew in our early married life.” Their eyes met, and there was a +moment’s pause. + +“You will not understand for many years what this means to me, Zenith,” + her mother said, and turned quickly to her place at the table. + +She could not remember what they had talked about after that. She +had been conscious of Transley’s eyes often on her, and of a certain +spiritual exaltation within her. She could not remember what she had +said, but she knew she had talked with unusual vivacity and charm. It +was as though certain storehouses of brilliance in her being, of which +she had been unaware, had been suddenly opened to her. It was as though +she had been intoxicated by a very subtle wine which did not deaden, but +rather quickened, all her faculties. + +Afterwards, she had spent long hours among the foothills, thinking and +thinking. There were times when the flame of that strange exaltation +burned low indeed; times when it seemed almost to expire. There were +moments--hours--of misgivings. She could not understand the strange +docility which had come over her; the unprecedented willingness to have +her course shaped by another. That strange willingness came as near to +frightening Zen as anything had ever done. She felt that she was being +carried along in a stream; that she was making no resistance; that she +had no desire to resist. She had a strange fear that some day she +would need to resist; some day she would mightily need qualities +of self-direction, and those qualities would refuse to arise at her +command. + +She did not fear Transley. She believed in him. She believed in his +ability to grapple with anything that stood in his way; to thrust it +aside, and press on. She respected the judgment of her father and her +mother, and both of them believed in Transley. He would succeed; he +would seize the opportunities this young country afforded and rise to +power and influence upon them. He would be kind, he would be generous. +He would make her proud of him. What more could she want? + +That was just it. There were dark moments when she felt that surely +there must be something more than all this. She did not know what it +was--she could not analyze her thoughts or give them definite form--but +in these dark moments she feared that she was being tricked, that the +whole thing was a sham which she would discover when it was too late. +She did not suspect her mother, or her father, or Transley, one or all, +of being parties to this trick; she believed that they did not know it +existed. She herself did not know it existed. But the fear was there. + +After a week she admitted, much against her will, that possibly Dennison +Grant had something to do with it. She had not seen him since she had +pressed his fingers and he had ridden away through the smoke-haze of the +South Y.D. She had dutifully tried to force him from her mind. But he +would not stay out of it. It was about that fact that her misgivings +seemed most to centre. When she would be thinking of Transley, and +wondering about the future, suddenly she would discover that she was not +thinking of Transley, but of Dennison Grant. These discoveries shocked +and humiliated her. It was an impossible position. She would throw Grant +forcibly out of her mind and turn to Transley. And then, in an unguarded +moment, Transley would fade from her consciousness, and she would know +again that she was thinking of Grant. + +At length she allowed herself the luxury of thinking frankly about +Dennison Grant. It WAS a luxury. It brought her a secret happiness which +she was wholly at a loss to understand, but which was very delightful, +nevertheless. She amused herself with comparing Grant with Transley. +They had two points in common: their physical perfection and their +fearless, self-confident manner. With these exceptions they seemed to be +complete contradictions. The ambitious Transley worshipped success; the +philosophical Grant despised it. That difference in attitude toward the +world and its affairs was a ridge which separated the whole current of +their lives. It even, in a way, shut one from the view of the other; +at least it shut Grant from the view of Transley. Transley would +never understand Grant, but Grant might, and probably did, understand +Transley. That was why Grant was the greater of the two.... + +She reproached herself for such a thought; it was disloyal to admit +that this stranger on the Landson ranch was a greater man than her +husband-to-be. And yet honesty--or, perhaps, something deeper than +honesty--compelled her to make that admission.... She ran back over the +remembered incidents of the night they had spent together, marooned like +shipwrecked sailors on a rock in the foothills. His attentiveness, his +courtesy, his freedom from any conventional restraint, his manly respect +which was so much greater than conventional restraint--all these came +back to her with a poignant tenderness. She pictured Transley in his +place. Transley would probably have proposed even before he bandaged her +ankle. Grant had not said a word of love, or even of affection. He had +talked freely of himself--at her request--but there had been nothing +that might not have been said before the world. She had been safe with +Grant.... + +After she had thought on this theme for a while Zen would acknowledge to +herself that the situation was absurd and impossible. Grant had given +no evidence of thinking more of her than of any other girl whom he might +have met. He had been chivalrous only. She had sat up with a start at +the thought that there might be another girl.... Or there might be no +girl. Grant was an unusual character.... + +At any rate, the thing for her to do was to forget about him. She should +have no place in her mind for any man but Transley. It was true he had +stampeded her, but she had accepted the situation in which she found +herself. Transley was worthy of her--she had nothing to take back--she +would go through with it. + +On the principle that the way to drive an unwelcome thought out of the +mind is to think vigorously about something else, Zen occupied herself +with plans and day-dreams centering about the new home that was to be +built in town. Neither her father nor Transley had as yet returned from +the trip on which they had gone with a view to forming a partnership, so +there had been no opportunity to discuss the plans for the future, but +Zen took it for granted that Transley would build in town. He was so +enthusiastic over the possibilities of that young and bustling centre +of population that there was no doubt he would want to throw in his lot +with it. This prospect was quite pleasing to the girl; it would leave +her within easy distance of her old home; it would introduce her to a +type of society with which she was well acquainted, and where she could +do herself justice, and it would not break up the associations of her +young life. She would still be able, now and again, to take long rides +through the tawny foothills; to mingle with her old friends; possibly to +maintain a somewhat sisterly acquaintance with Dennison Grant.... + +After ten days Y.D. returned--alone. He had scarcely been able to +believe the developments which he had seen. It was as though the sleepy, +lazy cow-town had become electrified. Y.D. had looked on for three days, +wondering if he were not in some kind of a dream from which he would +awaken presently among his herds in the foothills. After three days he +bought a property. Before he left he sold it at a profit greater than +the earnings of his first five years on the ranch. It would be indeed +a stubborn confidence which could not be won by such an experience, and +before leaving for the ranch Y.D. had arranged for Transley practically +an open credit with his bankers, and had undertaken to send down all the +horses and equipment that could be spared. + +Transley had planned to return to the foothills with Y.D., but at the +last moment business matters developed which required his attention. He +placed a tiny package in Y.D.’s capacious palm. + +“For the girl,” he said. “I should deliver it myself, but you’ll +explain?” + +Y.D. fumbled the tiny package into a vest pocket. “Sure, I’ll attend to +that,” he promised. “Wasn’t much of these fancy trimmin’s when I settled +into double harness, but lots of things has changed since then. You’ll +be out soon?” + +“Just as soon as business will stand for it. Not a minute longer.” + +On his return home Y.D., after maintaining an exasperating silence until +supper was finished, casually handed the package to his daughter. + +“Some trinket Transley sent out,” he explained. “He’ll be here himself +as soon as business permits.” + +She took the package with a glow of expectancy, started to open it, then +folded the paper again and ran up to her room. Here she tempted herself +for minutes before she would finally open it, whetting the appetite of +anticipation to the full.... The gem justified her little play. It was +magnificent; more beautiful and more expensive than anything her father +ever bought her. + +She hesitated strangely about putting it on. To Zen it seemed that the +putting on of Transley’s ring would be a voluntary act symbolizing her +acceptance of him. If she had been carried off her feet--swept into the +position in which she found herself--that explanation would not apply +to the deliberate placing of his ring upon her finger. There would be +no excuse; she could never again plead that she had been the victim of +Transley’s precipitateness. This would be deliberate, and she must do it +herself. + +She rather blamed Transley for not having left his old business and come +to perform this rite himself, as he should have done. What was one day +of business, more or less? Yet Zen gathered no hint from that +incident that always, with Transley, business would come first. It was +symbolic--prophetic--but she did not see the sign nor understand the +prophecy. + +She held the ring between her fingers; slipped it off and on her little +fingers; held it so the rays of the sun fell through the window upon it +and danced before her eyes in all their primal colors. + +“I have to put this on,” she said, pursing her lips firmly, “and--and +forget about Dennison Grant!” + +For a long time she thought of that and all it meant. Then she raised +the jewel to her lips. + +“Help me--help me--” she murmured. With a quick little impetuous motion +she drew it on to the finger where it belonged. There she gazed upon it +for a moment, as though fascinated by it. Then she fell upon her bed and +lay motionless until long after the valley was wrapped in shadow. + +The events of these days had almost driven from Zen’s mind the tragedy +of George Drazk. When she thought of it at all it presented such a +grotesque unreality--it was such an unreasonable thing--that it assumed +the vague qualities of a dream. It was something unreal and very much +better forgotten, and it was only by an unwilling effort at such times +that she could bring herself to know that it was not unreal. It was +a matter that concerned her tremendously. Sooner or later Drazk’s +disappearance must be noted,--perhaps his body would be found--and while +she had little fear that anyone would associate her with the tragedy it +was a most unpleasant thing to think about. Sometimes she wondered if +she should not tell her father or Transley just what had happened, but +she shrank from doing so as from the confession of a crime. Mostly she +was able to think of other matters. + +Her father brought it up in a startling way at breakfast. Absolutely out +of a blue sky he said, “Did you know, Zen, that Drazk has disappeared? +Transley tells me you were int’rested a bit in him, or perhaps I should +say he was int’rested in you.” + +Zen was so overcome by this startling change in the conversation that +she was unable to answer. The color went from her face and she leaned +low over her plate to conceal her agitation. + +“Yep,” continued Y.D., with no more concern than if a steer had been +lost from the herd. “Transley said to tell you Drazk had disappeared an’ +he reckoned you wouldn’t be bothered any more with him.” + +“Drazk was nothing to me,” she managed to say. “How can you think he +was?” + +“Now who said he was?” her father retorted. “For a young woman with the +price of a herd of steers on her third finger you’re sort o’ short this +mornin’. Now I’m jus’ wonderin’ how far you can see through a board +fence, Zen. Are you surprised that Drazk has disappeared?” + +She was entirely at a loss to understand the drift of her father’s talk. +He could not connect her with Drazk’s disappearance, or he would not +approach the matter with such unconcern. That was unthinkable. Neither +could Transley, or he would not have sent so brutal a message. And yet +it was clear that they thought she should be interested. + +Her father’s question demanded an answer. + +“What should I care?” she ventured at length. + +“I didn’t ask you whether you cared. I asked you whether you was +surprised.” + +“Drazk’s movements were--are nothing to me. I don’t know that I have any +occasion to be surprised about anything he may do.” + +“Well, I’m rather glad you’re not, because if you don’t jump to +conclusions, perhaps other people won’t. Not that it makes any +partic’lar diff’rence.” + +“Dad,” she cried in desperation, “whatever do you mean?” + +“It was all plain enough to me, an’ plain enough to Transley,” her +father continued with remarkable calmness. “We seen it right from the +first.” + +“You’re talking in riddles, Y.D.,” his wife remonstrated. “You’re +getting Zen all worked up.” + +“Jewelry seems to be mighty upsettin’,” Y.D. commented. “There was +nothin’ like that in our engagement, eh, Jessie? Well, to come to the +point. There was a fire which burned up the valley of the South Y.D. +Fires don’t start themselves--usually. This one started among the +Landson stacks, so it was natural enough to suspec’ Y.D. or some of his +sympathizers. Well it wasn’t Y.D., an’ I reckon it wasn’t Zen, an’ it +wasn’t Transley nor Linder an’ every one of the gang’s accounted for +excep’ Drazk. Drazk thought he was doin’ a great piece of business when +he fired the Landson hay, but when the wind turned an’ burned up the +whole valley Drazk sees where he can’t play no hero part around here so +he loses himself for good. I gathered from Transley that Drazk had been +botherin’ you a little, Zen, which is why I told you.” + +The girl’s heart was pounding violently at this explanation. It was +logical, and would be accepted readily by those who knew Drazk. She +would not trust herself in further conversation, so she slipped away as +soon as she could and spent the day riding down by the river. + +The afternoon wore on, and as the day was warm she dismounted by a ford +and sat down upon a flat rock close to the water. The rock reminded her +of the one on which she and Grant had sat that night while the thin red +lines of fire played far up and down the valley. Her ankle was paining +a little so she removed her boot and stocking and soothed it in the cool +water. + +As she sat watching her reflection in the clear stream and toying with +the ripple about her foot a horseman rode quickly down through the +cottonwoods on the other side and plunged into the ford. It happened +so quickly that neither saw the other until he was well into the river. +Although she had had no dream of seeing him here, in some way she felt +no surprise. Her heart was behaving boisterously, but she sat outwardly +demure, and when he was close enough she sent a frank smile up to him. +The look on his sunburned face as he returned her greeting convinced her +that the meeting, on his part, was no less unexpected and welcome than +it was to her. + +When his horse was out of the water he dismounted and walked to her with +extended hand. + +“This is an unexpected pleasure,” he said. “How is the ankle +progressing?” + +“Well enough,” she returned, “but it gets tired as the day wears on. I +am just resting a bit.” + +There was a moment of somewhat embarrassed silence. + +“That is a good-sized rock,” he suggested, at length. + +“Yes, isn’t it? And here in the shade, at that.” + +She did not invite him with words, but she gave her body a slight hitch, +as though to make room, although there was enough already. He sat down +without comment. + +“Not unlike a rock I remember up in the foothills,” he remarked, after a +silence. + +“Oh, you remember that? It WAS like this, wasn’t it?” + +“Same two people sitting on it.” + +“.... Yes.” + +“Not like this, though.” + +“No.... You’re mean. You know I didn’t intend to fall asleep.” + +“Of course not. Still....” + +His voice lingered on it as though it were a delightful remembrance. + +She found herself holding one of her hands in the other. She could feel +the pressure of Transley’s ring on her palm, and she held it tighter +still. + +“Riding anywhere in particular?” he inquired. + +“No. Just mooning.” She looked up at him again, this time at close +quarters. It was a quick, bright flash on his face--a moment only. + +“Why mooning?” + +She did not answer. Looking down in the water he met her gaze there. + +“You’re troubled!” he exclaimed. + +“Oh, no! My--my ankle hurts a little.” + +He looked at her sympathetically. “But not that much,” he said. + +She gave a forced little laugh. “What a mind reader you are! Can you +tell my fortune?” + +“I should have to read it in your hand.” + +She would have extended her hand, but for Transley’s ring. + +“No.... No. You’ll have to read it in--in the stars.” + +“Then look at me.” She did so, innocently. + +“I cannot read it there,” he said, after his long gaze had begun to whip +the color to her cheeks. “There is no answer.” + +She turned again to the water, and after a long while she heard his +voice, very low and earnest. + +“Zen, I could read a fortune for you, if you would not be offended. We +are only chance acquaintances--not very well acquainted, yet--” + +She knew what he meant, but she pretended she did not. Even in that +moment something came to her of Transley’s speech about love being a +game of pretence. Very well, she would play the game--this once. + +“I don’t see how I could be offended at your reading my fortune,” she +murmured. + +“Then this is the fortune I would read for you,” he said boldly. “I see +a young man, a rather foolish young man, perhaps, by ordinary standards, +and yet one who has found a great deal of happiness in his simple, +unconventional life. Until a short time ago he felt that life could give +him all the happiness that was worth having. He had health, strength, +hours of work and hours of pleasure, the fields, the hills, the +mountains, the sky--all God’s open places to live in and enjoy. He +thought there was nothing more. + +“Well, then he found, all of a sudden, that there was something +more--everything more. He made that discovery on a calm autumn night, +when fire had blackened all the foothills and still ran in dancing red +ribbons over their distant crests. That night a great thing--two great +things--came into his life. First was something he gave. Not very much, +indeed, but typical of all it might be. It was service. And next was +something he received, something so wonderful he did not understand it +then, and does not understand it yet. It was trust. These were things he +had been leaving largely out of his life, and suddenly he discovered how +empty it was. I think there is one word for both these things, and, it +may be, for even more. You know?” + +“I know,” she said, and her voice was scarcely audible. + +“But it is YOUR fortune I am to read,” he corrected himself. “It has +been your fortune to open that new world to me. That can never be +undone--those gates can never be closed--no matter where the paths may +lead. Those two paths go down to the future--as all paths must--even +as this road leads away through the valley to the sunset. Zen--if only, +like this road, they could run side by side to the sunset--Oh! Zen, if +they could?” + +“I know,” she said, and as she raised her face he saw that her eyes were +wet. “I know--if only they could!” + +There was a little sob in her voice, and in her beauty and distress +she was altogether irresistible. He reached out his arms and would have +taken her in them, but she thrust her hands in his and held herself +back. She turned the diamond deliberately to his eyes. She could feel +his grip relax and apparently grow suddenly cold. He stood speechless, +like one dazed--benumbed. + +“You see, I should not have let you talk--it is my fault,” she said, +speaking hurriedly. “I should not have let you talk. Please do not think +I am shallow; that I let you suffer to gratify my vanity.” Her eyes +found his again. “If I had not believed every word you said--if I had +not liked every word you said--if I had not--HOPED--every word you said, +I would not have listened.... But you see how it is.” + +He was silent for so long that she thought he was not going to answer +her at all. When he spoke it was in a dry, parched voice. + +“I beg your pardon,” he said. “I should not have presumed--” + +“I know, I know. If only--” + +Then he looked straight at her and talked out. + +“You liked me enough to let me speak as I did. I opened my heart to +you. I ask no such concession in return. I hope you will not think me +presumptuous, but I do not plead now for my happiness, but for yours. Is +this irrevocable? Are--you--sure?” + +He said the last words so slowly and deliberately that she felt that +each of them was cutting the very rock from underneath her. She knew +she was at a junction point in her life, and her mind strove to quickly +appraise the situation. On one side was this man who had for her so +strange and so powerful an appeal. It was only by sheer force of will +that she could hold herself aloof from him. But he was a man who had +broken with his family and quarrelled with her father--a man whom her +father would certainly not for a moment consider as a son-in-law. He +was a foreman; practically a ranch hand. Neither Zen nor her father were +snobs, and if Grant worked for a living, so did Transley. That was not +to be counted against him. The point was, what kind of living did he +earn? What Transley had to offer was perhaps on a lower plane, but +it was more substantial. It had been approved by her father, and her +mother, and herself. It wasn’t as though one man were good and the other +bad; it wasn’t as though one thing were right and the other wrong. It +would have been easy then.... + +“I have promised,” she said at last. + +She released her hands from his, and, sitting down, silently put on her +stocking and boot. She was aware that he was still standing near, as +though waiting to be formally dismissed. She walked by him to her horse +and put her foot in the stirrup. Then she looked at him and gave her +hand a little farewell wave. + +Then a great pang, irresistible in its yearning, swept over her. She +drew her foot from the stirrup, and, rushing down, threw her arms about +his neck.... + +“I must go,” she said. “I must go. We must both go and forget.” + +And Dennison Grant continued his way down the valley while Zen rode back +to the Y.D., wondering if she could ever forget. + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Linder scratched his tousled brown hair reflectively as he gazed after +the retreating form of Transley. His hat was off, and the perspiration +stood on his sunburned face--a face which, in point of handsomeness, +needed make no apology to Transley. + +“Well, by thunder!” said Linder; “by thunder, think of that!” + +Linder stood for some time, thinking “of that” as deeply as his somewhat +disorganized mental state would permit. For Transley had announced, with +his usual directness, that he wanted so many men and teams for a house +excavation in the most exclusive part of the city. So far they had been +building in the cheaper districts a cheap type of house for those who, +having little capital, are the easier deprived of what they have. The +shift in operations caused Linder to lift his eyebrows. + +Transley laughed boyishly and clapped a palm on his shoulder. + +“I may as well make you wise, Linder,” he said. “We’re going to build a +house for Mr. and Mrs. Transley.” + +“MISSUS?” Linder echoed, incredulously. + +“That’s the good word,” Transley confirmed. “Never expected it to happen +to me, but it did, all of a sudden. You want to look out; maybe it’s +catching.” + +Transley was evidently in prime humor. Linder had, indeed, noted this +good humor for some time, but had attributed it to the very successful +operations in which his employer had been engaged. He pulled himself +together enough to offer a somewhat confused congratulation. + +“And may I ask who is to be the fortunate young lady?” he ventured. + +“You may,” said Transley, “but if you could see the length of your nose +it wouldn’t be necessary. Linder, you’re the best foreman I ever had, +just because you don’t ever think of anything else. When you pass on +there’ll be no heaven for you unless they give you charge of a bunch of +men and teams where you can raise a sweat and make money for the boss. +If you weren’t like that you would have anticipated what I’ve told +you--or perhaps made a play for Zen yourself.” + +“Zen? You don’t mean Y.D.’s daughter?” + +“If I don’t mean Y.D.’s daughter I don’t mean anybody, and you can take +that from me. You bet it’s Zen. Say, Linder, I didn’t think I could +go silly over a girl, but I’m plumb locoed. I bought the biggest old +sparkler in this town and sent it out with Y.D., if he didn’t lose it +through the lining of his vest--he handled it like it might have been a +box of pills--bad pills, Linder--and I’ve got an architect figuring how +much expense he can put on a house--he gets a commission on the cost, +you see--and one of these nights I’m going to buy you a dinner that’ll +keep you fed till Christmas. I never knew before that silliness and +happiness go together, but they do. I’m glad I’ve got a sober old +foreman--that’s all that keeps the business going.” + +And after Transley had turned away Linder had scratched his head and +said “By thunder.... Linder, when you wake up you’ll be dead.... After +her practically saying ‘The water’s fine.’... Well, that’s why I’m a +foreman, and always will be.” + +But after a little reflection Linder came to the conclusion that perhaps +it was all for the best. He could not have bought Y.D.’s daughter a big +sparkler or have built her a fine home--because he was a foreman. It +was a round circle.... He threw himself into the building of Transley’s +house with as much fidelity as if it had been his own. He gave his +undivided attention to Transley’s interests, making dollars for him +while earning cents for himself. This attention was more needed than it +ever had been, as Transley found it necessary to make weekly trips to +the ranch in the foothills to consult with Y.D. upon business matters. + +Zen found her interest in Transley growing as his attentions continued. +He spent money upon her lavishly, to the point at which she protested, +for although Y.D. was rated as a millionaire the family life was one of +almost stark simplicity. Transley assured her that he was making money +faster than he possibly could spend it, and even if not, money had no +nobler mission than to bring her happiness. He explained the blue-prints +of the house, and discussed with her details of the appointments. As the +building progressed he brought her weekly photographs of it. He urged +her to set the date about Christmas; during the winter contracting would +be at a standstill, so they would spend three months in California and +return in time for the spring business. + +Day by day the girl turned the situation over in her mind. Her life +had been swept into strange and unexpected channels, and the experience +puzzled her. Since the episode with Drazk she had lost some of her +native recklessness; she was more disposed to weigh the result of her +actions, and she approached the future not without some misgivings. She +assured herself that she looked forward to her marriage with Transley +with the proper delight of a bride-to-be, and indeed it was a prospect +that could well be contemplated with pleasure.... Transley had won the +complete confidence of her father and when doubts assailed her Zen found +in that fact a very considerable comfort. Y.D. was a shrewd man; a man +who seldom guessed wrong. Zen did not admit that she was allowing +her father to choose a husband for her, but the fact that her father +concurred in the choice strengthened her in it. Transley had in him +qualities which would win not only wealth, but distinction, and she +would share in the laurels. She told herself that it was a delightful +outlook; that she was a very happy girl indeed--and wondered why she was +not happier! + +Particularly she laid it upon herself that she must now, finally, +dismiss Dennison Grant from her mind. It was absurd to suppose that +she cared more for Grant than she did for Transley. The two men were so +different; it was impossible to make comparisons. They occupied quite +different spheres in her regard. To be sure, Grant was a very likeable +man, but he was not eligible as a husband, and she could not marry two, +in any case. Zen entertained no girlish delusions about there being only +one man in the world. On the contrary, she was convinced that there +were very many men in the world, and, among the better types, there was, +perhaps, not so much to choose between them. Grant would undoubtedly be +a good husband within his means; so would Transley, and his means were +greater. The blue-prints of the new house in town had not been without +their effect. It was a different prospect from being a foreman’s wife on +a ranch. Her father would never hear of it.... + +So she busied herself with preparations for the great event, and what +preparations they were! “Zen,” her father had said, “for once the lid is +off. Go the limit!” She took him at his word. There were many trips +to town, and activities about the old ranch buildings such as they had +never known since Jessie Wilson came to finish Y.D.’s up-bringing, nor +even then. The good word spread throughout the foothill country and down +over the prairies, and many a lazy cloud of dust lay along the November +hillsides as the women folk of neighboring ranches came to pay their +respects and gratify their curiosity. Zen had treasures to show which +sent them home with new standards of extravagance. + +Y.D. had not thought he could become so worked up over a simple matter +like a wedding. Time had dulled the edge of memory, but even after +making allowances he could not recall that his marriage to Jessie Wilson +had been such an event in his life as this. It did not at least reflect +so much glory upon him personally. He basked in the reflected glow of +his daughter’s beauty and popularity, as happily as the big cat lying +on the sunny side of the bunk-house. He found all sorts of excuses for +invading where his presence was little wanted while Zen’s finery +was being displayed for admiration. Y.D. always pretended that such +invasions were quite accidental, and affected a fine indifference to all +this “women’s fuss an’ feathers,” but his affectations deceived at least +none of the older visitors. + +As the great day approached Y.D.’s wife shot a bomb-shell at him. “What +do you propose to wear for Zen’s wedding?” she demanded. + +“What’s the matter with the suit I go to town in?” + +“Y.D.,” said his wife, kindly, “there are certain little touches which +you overlook. Your town suit is all right for selling steers, although +I won’t say that it hasn’t outlived its prime even for that. To attend +Zen’s wedding it is--hardly the thing.” + +“It’s been a good suit,” he protested. “It is--” + +“It HAS. It is also a venerable suit. But really, Y.D., it will not +do for this occasion. You must get yourself a new suit, and a white +shirt--” + +“What do I want with a white shirt--” + +“It has to be,” his wife insisted. “You’ll have to deck yourself out in +a new suit and a while shirt and collar.” + +Y.D. stamped around the room, and in a moment slipped out. “All fool +nonsense,” he confided to himself, on his way to the bunk-house. “It’s +all right for Zen to have good clothes--didn’t I tell her to go the +limit?--but as for me, ‘tain’t me that’s gettin’ married, is it? +Standin’ up before all them cow punchers in a white shirt!” The +bitterness of such disgrace cut the old rancher no less keenly than the +physical discomfort which he forecast for himself, yet he put his own +desires sufficiently to one side to buy a suit of clothes, and a white +shirt and collar, when he was next in town. + +It must not be supposed that Y.D. admitted to the salesman that he +personally was descending to any such garb. + +“A suit for a fellow about my size,” he explained. “He’s visitin’ out +at the ranch, an’ he hefts about the same as me. Put in one of them +Hereford shirts an’ a collar.” + +Y.D. tucked the package surreptitiously in his room and awaited the day +of Zen’s marriage with mingled emotions. + +Zen, yielding to Transley’s importunities, had at last said that it +should be Christmas Day. The wedding would be in the house, with the +leading ranchers and farmers of the district as invited guests, and +the general understanding was to be given out that the countryside as a +whole would be welcome. All could not be taken care of in the house, so +Y.D. gave orders that the hay was to be cleared out of one of the barns +and the floor put in shape for dancing. Open house would be held in +the barn and in the bunk-house, where substantial refreshments would be +served to all and sundry. + +Christmas Day dawned with a seasonable nip to the air, but the sun rose +warm and bright. There was no snow, and by early afternoon clouds of +dust were rising on every trail leading to the Y.D. The old ranchers +and their wives drove in buckboards, and one or two in automobiles; +the younger generation, of both sexes, came on horseback, with many an +exciting impromptu race by the way. Y.D. received them all in the +yard, commenting on the horses and the weather, and how the steers +were wintering, and revealing, at the proper moments, the location of +a well-filled stone jug. The faithful Linder was on hand to assist in +caring for the horses and maintaining organization about the yard. The +women were ushered into the house, but the men sat about the bunk-house +or leaned against the sunny side of the barn, sharpening their wits +in conversational sallies which occasionally brought loud guffaws of +merriment. + +In the house every arrangement had been completed. Zen was to come down +the stairs leaning on her father’s arm, and the ceremony would take +place in the big central room, lavishly decorated with flowers which +Transley had sent from town in a heated automobile. After the ceremony +the principals and the older people would eat the wedding dinner in +the house, and all others would be served in the bunk-house. One of the +downstairs rooms was already filled with presents. + +As the hour approached Zen found herself possessed of a calmness which +she deemed worthy of Y.D.’s daughter. She had elected to be unattended +as she had no very special girl friend, and that seemed the simplest +way out of the problem of selecting someone for this honor. She was, +however, amply assisted with her dressing, and the color of her fine +cheeks burned deeper with the compliments to which she listened with +modest appreciation. + +At a quarter to the hour it was discovered that Y.D. had not yet dressed +for the occasion. He was, in fact, engaged with Landson in making a +tentative arrangement for the distribution of next year’s hay. Zen had +been so insistent upon an invitation being sent to Mr. and Mrs. Landson, +that Y.D., although fearing a snub for his pains, at last conceded the +point. He had done his neighbor rather less than justice, and now he +and Landson, with the assistance of the jug already referred to, were +burying the hatchet in a corner of the bunk-house. + +“Dang this dressin’,” Y.D. remonstrated when a message demanding instant +action reached him. “Landson, hear me now! I wouldn’t take a million +dollars for that girl, y’ understand--and I wouldn’t trade a mangy +cayuse for another!” + +So, grumbling, he found his way to his room and began a wrestle with his +“store” clothes. Before the fight was over he was being reminded through +the door that he wasn’t roping a steer, and everybody was waiting. At +the last moment he discovered that he had neglected to buy shoes. There +was nothing for it but his long ranch boots, so on they went. + +He sought Zen in her room. “Will I do in this?” he asked, feeling very +sheepish. + +Zen could have laughed, or she could have cried, but she did neither. +She sensed in some way the fact that to her father this experience was a +positive ordeal. So she just slipped her arm through his and whispered, +“Of course you’ll do, you silly old duffer,” and tripped down the stairs +by the side of his ponderous steps. + +After the ceremony the elder people sat down to dinner in the house, +and the others in the bunk-house. Zen was radiant and calm; Transley +handsome, delighted, self-possessed. His good luck was the subject of +many a comment, both inside and out of the old house. He accepted it at +its full value, and yet as one who has a right to expect that luck will +play him some favors. + +Suddenly there was a rush from outside, and Zen found herself being +carried bodily away. The young people had decided that the dancing could +wait no longer, so a half dozen hustlers had been deputed to kidnap +the bride and carry her to the barn, where the fiddles were already +strumming. Zen insisted that the first dance must belong to Transley, +but after that she danced with the young ranchers and cowboys with +strict impartiality. And even as she danced she found herself wondering +if, among all this representation of the countryside, that one upon whom +her thoughts had turned so much should be missing. She found herself +watching the door. Surely it would have been only a decent respect to +her--surely he might have helped to whirl her joyously away into the new +life in which the past had to be forgotten.... How much better that they +should part that way, than with the memories they had! + +But Dennison Grant did not appear. Evidently he preferred to keep his +memories.... + +When at last the night had worn thin and it was time for the bridal +couple to leave if they were to catch the morning train in town, +and they had ridden down the foothill trails to the thunder of many +accompanying hoof-beats, the old ranch became suddenly a place very +quiet and still and alone. Y.D. sat down in the corner of the big room +by the fire, and saw strange pictures in its dying embers. Zen.... +Zen!... Transley was a good fellow, but how much a man will take with +scarce a thank-you!... Presently Y.D. became aware of a hand resting +upon his shoulder, and tingling from its fingertips came something akin +to the almost forgotten rapture of a day long gone. He raised his great +palm and took that slowly ageing hand, once round and fresh like Zen’s, +in his. Together they watched the fire die out in the silence of their +empty house.... + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Grant read the account of her wedding in the city papers a day or two +later. It was given the place of prominence among the Christmas Day +nuptials. He read it through twice and then tossed the paper to the end +of his little office. Grant was housed in a building by himself; a shack +twelve by sixteen feet, double boarded and tar-papered. A single square +window in the eastern wall commanded a view of the Landson corrals. +On the opposite side of the room was his bed; in the centre a huge +wood-burning stove; near the window stood a table littered with daily +papers and agricultural journals. The floor was of bare boards; a +leather trunk, with D. G. in aggressive letters, sat by the head of +his bed, and in the corner near the foot was a washstand with basin +and pitcher of graniteware. In another corner was a short shelf +of well-selected books; clothing hung from nails driven into the +two-by-fours which formed the framework of the little building; a rifle +was suspended over the door, and lariat and saddle hung from spikes in +the wall. Grant sat in an arm chair by the stove, where the bracket lamp +on the wall could shed its yellow glare upon his paper. + +After throwing the sheet across the room he half turned in his chair, +so that the yellow light fell across his face. Fidget, the pup, always +alert for action, was on her feet in a moment, eager to lead the way +to the door and whatever adventure might lie outside. But Grant did +not leave his chair, and, finding all her tail-waving of no avail, she +presently settled down again by the stove, her chin on her outstretched +paws, her drooping eyes half closed, but a wakeful ear flopping +occasionally forward and back. Grant snuggled his foot against her +friendly side and fell into reverie.... + +There was nothing else for it; he must absolutely dismiss Zen--Zen +Transley--from his mind. That was not only the course of honor; it was +the course of common sense. After all, he had not sought her for his +bride. He had not pressed his suit. He had given her to Transley. The +thought was rather a pleasant one. It implied some sort of voluntary +action upon Grant’s part. He had been magnanimous. Nevertheless, he was +cave man enough to know pangs of jealousy which his magnanimity could +not suppress. + +“If things had been different,” he remarked to himself; “if I had been +in a position to offer her decent conditions, I would have followed up +the lead. And I would have won.” He turned the incident on the river +bank over in his mind, and a faint smile played along his lips. “I would +have won. But I couldn’t bring her here.... It’s the first time I ever +felt that money could really contribute to happiness. Well--I was happy +before I met her; I can be happy still. This little episode....” + +He crossed the room and picked up the newspaper he had thrown away; he +crumpled it in his hand as he approached the stove. It said the +bride was beautiful--the happy couple--the groom, prosperous young +contractor--California--three months.... He turned to the table, +smoothed out the paper, and studied it again. Of course he had heard +the whole thing from the Landsons; they had done Y.D. and his daughter +justice. He clipped the article carefully from the sheet and folded it +away in a little book on the shelf. + +Then he told himself that Zen had been swept from his mind; that if ever +they should meet--and he dallied a moment with that possibility--they +would shake hands and say some decent, insipid things and part as people +who had never met before. Only they would know.... + +Grant occupied himself with the work of the ranch that winter, spring, +and summer. Occasional news of Mrs. Transley filtered through; she was +too prominent a character in that countryside to be lost track of in +a season. But anything which reached Grant came through accidental +channels; he sought no information of her, and turned a deaf ear, +almost, to what he heard. Then in the fall came an incident which +immediately changed the course of his career. + +It came in the form of an important-looking letter with an eastern +postmark. It had been delivered with other mail at the house, and +Landson himself brought it down. Grant read it and at first stared at it +somewhat blankly, as one not taking in its full portent. + +“Not bad news, I hope?” said his employer, cloaking his curiosity in +commiseration. + +“Rather,” Grant admitted, and handed him the letter. Landson read: + + +“It is our duty to place before you information which must be of a very +distressing nature, and which at the same time will have the effect of +greatly increasing your responsibilities and opportunities. Unless you +have happened to see the brief despatches which have appeared in the +Press this letter will doubtless be the first intimation to you +that your father and younger brother Roy were the victims of a most +regrettable accident while motoring on a brief holiday in the South. The +automobile in which they were travelling was struck by a fast train, +and both of them received injuries from which they succumbed almost +immediately. + +“Your father, by his will, left all his property, aside from certain +behests to charity, to his son Roy, but Roy had no will, and as he was +unmarried, and as there are no other surviving members of the family +except yourself, the entire estate, less the behests already referred +to, descends to you. We have not yet attempted an appraisal, but you +will know that the amount is very considerable indeed. In recent years +your father’s business undertakings were remarkably successful, and we +think we may conservatively suggest that the amount of the estate will +be very much greater than even you may anticipate. + +“The brokerage firm which your father founded is, temporarily, without +a head. You have had some experience in your father’s office, and as his +solicitors for many years, we take the liberty of suggesting that you +should immediately assume control of the business. A faithful staff +are at present continuing it to the best of their ability, but you will +understand that a permanent organization must be effected at as early a +date as may be possible. + +“Inability to locate you until after somewhat exhaustive inquiries had +been made explains the failure to notify you by wire in time to permit +of your attending the funeral of your father and brother, which took +place in this city on the eighth instant, and was marked by many +evidences of respect. + +“We beg to tender our very sincere sympathy, and to urge upon you +that you so arrange your affairs as to enable you to assume the +responsibilities which have, in a sense, been forced upon you, at a very +early date. In the meantime we assure you of our earnest attention to +your interests. + +“Yours sincerely, + +“BARRETT, JONES, BARRETT, DEACON & BARRETT.” + + +“Well, I guess it means you’ve struck oil, and I’ve lost a good +foreman,” said Landson, as he returned the letter. “I’m sorry about your +loss, Grant, and glad to hear of your good luck, if I may put it that +way.” + +“No particular good luck that I can see,” Grant protested. “I came west +to get away from all that bothering nuisance, and now I’ve got to go +back and take it all up again. I feel badly about Dad and the kid; +they were decent, only they didn’t understand me.... I suppose I didn’t +understand them, either. At any rate they didn’t wish this on me. They +had quite other plans.” + +“What do you reckon she’s worth?” Landson asked, after waiting as long +as his patience would permit. + +“Oh, I don’t know. Possibly six or eight millions by this time.” + +“Six or eight millions! Jehoshaphat! What will you do with it?” + +“Look after it. Mr. Landson, you know that I have never worried about +money; if I had I wouldn’t be here. I figure that the more money a man +has the greater are his responsibilities and his troubles; worse than +that, his wealth excites the jealousy of the public and even the envy +of his friends. It builds a barrier around him, shutting out all those +things which are really most worth while. It makes him the legitimate +prey of the unprincipled. I know all these things, and it is because I +know them that I sought happiness out here on the ranges, where perhaps +some people are rich and some are poor, but they all think alike +and live alike and are part of one community and stand together in a +pinch--and out here I have found happiness. Now I’m going back to the +other job. I don’t care for the money, but any son-of-a-gun who takes it +from me is a better man than I am, and I’ll sit up nights at both ends +of the day to beat him at his own game. Now, just as soon as you can +line up someone to take charge I’ll have to beat it.” + +The news of Grant’s fortune spread rapidly, and many were the +congratulations from his old cow puncher friends; congratulations, +for the most part, without a suggestion of envy in them. Grant put his +affairs in order as quickly as possible, and started for the East with a +trunkful of clothes. But even before he started one thought had risen up +to haunt him. He crushed it down, but it would insist. If only this had +happened a year ago.... + +Dennison Grant’s mother had died in his infancy, and as soon as Roy +was old enough to go to boarding-school his father had given up +housekeeping. The club had been his home ever since. Grant reflected on +this situation with some satisfaction. He would at least be spared the +unpleasantness of discharging a houseful of servants and disposing of +the family furniture. As for the club--he had no notion for that. A +couple of rooms in some quiet apartment house, where he could cook a +meal to his own liking as the fancy took him; that was his picture of +something as near domestic happiness as was possible for a single man +rather sadly out of his proper environment. + +Grant reached his old home city late at night, and after a quiet cigar +and a stroll through some of the half-forgotten streets he put up at one +of the best hotels. He was deferentially shown to a room about as large +as the whole Landson house; soft lights were burning under pink shades; +his feet fell noiselessly on the thick carpets. He placed a chair by a +window, where he could watch the myriad lights of the city, and tried +to appraise the new sphere in which he found himself. It would be a very +different game from riding the ranges or roping steers, but it would be +a game, nevertheless; a game in which he would have to stand on his +own resources even more than in those brave days in the foothills. He +relished the notion of the game even while he was indifferent to the +prize. He had no clear idea what he eventually should do with his +wealth; that was something to think about very carefully in the days and +years to come. In the meantime his job was to handle a big business in +the way it should be handled. He must first prove his ability to make +money before he showed the world how little he valued it. + +He turned the water into his bath; there was a smell about the towels, +the linen, the soap, that was very grateful to his nostrils.... + +In the morning he passed by the office of Grant & Son. He did not turn +in, but pursued his way to a door where a great brass plate announced +the law firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett. He smiled +at this elaboration of names; it represented three generations of the +Barrett family and two sons-in-law. Grant found himself speculating +over a name for the Landson ranch; it might have been Landson, Grant, +Landson, Murphy, Skinny & Pete.... + +He entered and inquired for Mr. Barrett, senior. + +“Mr. David Barrett, senior, sir; he’s out of the city, sir; he has not +yet come in from his summer home in the mountains.” + +“Then the next Mr. Barrett?” + +“Mr. David Barrett, junior, sir; he also is out of the city.” + +“Have you any more Barretts?” + +“There’s young Mr. Barrett, but he seldom comes down in the forenoon, +sir.” + +Grant suppressed a grin. “The Barretts are a somewhat leisurely family, +I take it,” he remarked. + +“They have been very successful,” said the clerk, with a touch of +reserve. + +“Apparently; but who does the work?” + +“Mr. Jones is in his office. Would you care to send in your card?” + +“No, I think I’ll just take it in.” He pressed through a counter-gate +and opened a door upon which was emblazoned the name of Mr. Jones. + +Mr. Jones proved to be a man with thin, iron-grey hair and a stubby, +pugnacious moustache. He sat at a desk at the end of a long, narrow +room, down both sides of which were rows of cases filled with +impressive-looking books. He did not raise his eyes when Grant entered, +but continued poring over a file of correspondence. + +“What an existence!” Grant commented to himself. “And yet I suppose this +man thinks he’s alive.” + +Grant remained standing for a moment, but as the lawyer showed no +disposition to divide his attention he presently advanced to the desk. +Mr. Jones looked up. + +“You are Mr. Jones, I believe?” + +“I am, but you have the better of me--” + +“Only for the moment. You are a lawyer. You will take care of that. I +understand the firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett have +somewhat leisurely methods?” + +“Is the firm on trial?” inquired Mr. Jones, sharply. + +“In a sense, yes. I also understand that although all the Barretts, and +also Mr. Deacon, share in the name plate, Mr. Jones does the work?” + +The lawyer laid down his papers. “Who the dickens are you, anyway, and +what do you want?” + +“That’s better. With undivided attention we shall get there much +quicker. I have a certain amount of legal business which requires +attention, and in connection with which I am willing to pay what the +service is worth. But I’m not going to pay two generations of Barretts +which are out of the city, and a third which doesn’t come down in the +forenoon. If I have to buy name plates, I’ll buy name plates of my own, +and that is what I’ve decided to do. Do you mind saying how much this +job here is worth?” + +“Of course I do, sir. I don’t understand you at all--” + +“Then I’ll make myself understood. I am Dennison Grant. By force of +circumstances I find myself--” + +The lawyer had risen from his chair. “Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I’m so +glad--” + +Grant ignored the outstretched hand. “I’m exactly the same man who came +into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to raise +your eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now offering +courtesy; it’s to my money.” + +“I am sure I beg your pardon. I didn’t know--” + +“Then you will know in future. If you’ve got a hand on you, stick it +out, whether your visitor has any money or not.” + +Grant was glaring at the lawyer across the desk, and the +pugnacious-looking moustache was beginning to bristle back. + +“Did you come in here to read me a lecture, or to get legal advice?” the +lawyer returned with some spirit. + +“I came in here on business. In the course of that business I find it +necessary to tell you where you get off at, and to ask you what you’re +going to do about it.” + +The lawyer came around from behind his desk. “And I’ll show you,” he +said, very curtly. “You’ve been drinking, or you’re out of your head. +In either case I’m going to put you out of this room until you are in a +different frame of mind.” + +“Hop to it!” said Grant, bracing himself. Jones was an oldish man, +and he had no intention of hurting him. In a moment they clenched, and +before Grant could realize what was happening he was on his back. + +He arose quickly, laughing, and sat down in a chair. “Mr. Jones, will +you sit down? I want to talk to you.” + +“If you will talk business. You were rude to me.” + +“Perhaps. For my rudeness I apologize. But I was not untruthful. And I +wanted to find something out. I found it.” + +“What?” + +“Whether you had any sand in you. You have, and considerable muscle, or +knack, as well. I’m not saying you could do it again--” + +“Well, what is this all about?” + +“Simply this. If I am to manage the business of Grant & Son I shall need +legal advice of the highest order, and I want it from a man with red +blood in him--I should be afraid of any other advice. What is your +price? You understand, you leave this firm and think of nothing, +professionally, but what I pay you for.” + +Mr. Jones had seated himself, and the pugnacious moustache was settling +back into a less hostile attitude. + +“You are quite serious?” + +“Quite. You see, I know nothing about business. It is true I spent some +time in my father’s office, but I never had much heart for it. I +went west to get away from it. Fate has forced it back upon my hands. +Well--I’m not a piker, and I mean to show Fate that I can handle the +job. To do so I must have the advice of a man who knows the game. I want +a man who can look over a bond issue, or whatever it is, and tell me +at a glance whether it’s spavined or wind-broken. I want a man who can +sense out the legal badger-holes, and who won’t let me gallop over a +cutbank. I want a man who has not only brains to back up his muscle, but +who also has muscle to back up his brains. To be quite frank, I didn’t +think you were the man. I had no doubt you had the legal ability, or you +wouldn’t be guiding the affairs of this five-cylinder firm, but I was +afraid you didn’t have the fight in you. I picked a quarrel with you to +find out, and you showed me, for which I am much obliged. By the way, +how do you do it?” + +Before answering Mr. Jones got up, walked around behind his desk, +unlocked a drawer and produced a box of cigars. + +“That’s a mistake you Westerners make,” he remarked, when they had +lighted up. “You think the muscle is all out there, just as some +Easterners will admit that the brains are all down here. Both are wrong. +Life at a desk calls for an antidote, and two nights a week keep me in +form. I wrestled a bit when I was a boy, but I haven’t had a chance to +try out my skill in a long while. I rather welcomed the opportunity.” + +“I noticed that. Well--what’s she worth?” + +Mr. Jones ruminated. “I wouldn’t care to break with the firm,” he said +at length. “There are family ties as well as those of business. A year’s +leave of absence might be arranged. By that time you would be safe in +your saddle. By the way, do you propose to hire all your staff by the +same test?” + +Grant smiled. “I don’t expect to hire any more staff. I presume there is +already a complete organization, doubtless making money for me at this +very moment. I will not interfere except when necessary, but I want a +man like you to tell me when it is necessary.” + +Terms were agreed upon, and Mr. Jones asked only the remainder of the +week to clean up important matters on hand. Telegrams were despatched to +Mr. David Barrett, senior, and Mr. David Barrett, junior, and Jones in +some way managed to convey the delicate information to young Mr. Barrett +that a morning appearance on his part would henceforth be essential. +Grant decided to fill in the interval with a little fishing expedition. +He was determined that he would not so much as call at the office of +Grant & Son until Jones could accompany him. “A tenderfoot like me would +stampede that bunch in no time,” he warned himself. + +When he finally did appear at the office he was received with a +deference amounting almost to obeisance. Murdoch, the chief clerk, and +manager of the business in all but title, who had known him in the old +days when he had been “Mr. Denny,” bore him into the private office +which had for so many years been the sacred recess of the senior Grant. +Only big men or trusted employees were in the habit of passing those +silent green doors. + +“Well Murdy, old boy, how goes it?” Grant had said when they met, taking +his hand in a husky grip. + +“Not so bad, sir; not so bad, considering the shock of the accident, +sir. And we are all so glad to see you--we who knew you before, sir.” + +“Listen, Murdy,” said Grant. “What’s the idea of all the sirs?” + +“Why,” said the somewhat abashed official, “you know you are now the +head of the firm, sir.” + +“Quite so. Because a chauffeur neglected to look over his shoulder I am +converted from a cow puncher to a sir. Well, go easy on it. If a man has +native dignity in him he doesn’t need it piled on from outside.” + +“Very true, sir. I hope you will be comfortable here. Some memorable +matters have been transacted within these walls, sir. Let me take your +hat and cane.” + +“Cane? What cane?” + +“Your stick, sir; didn’t you have a stick?” + +“What for? Have you rattlers here? Oh, I see--more dignity. No, I don’t +carry a stick. Perhaps when I’m old--” + +“You’ll have to try and accommodate yourself to our manners,” said +Jones, when Murdoch had left the room. “They may seem unnecessary, +or even absurd, but they are sanctioned by custom, and, you know, +civilization is built on custom. The poet speaks of a freedom which +‘slowly broadens down from precedent to precedent.’ Precedent is custom. +Never defy custom, or you will find her your master. Humor her, and she +will be your slave. Now I think I shall leave, while you try and tune +yourself to the atmosphere of these surroundings. I need hardly warn you +that the furniture is--quite valuable.” + +Grant saw him out with a friendly grip on his arm. “You will need +another course of wrestling lessons presently,” he warned him. + +So this was the room which had been the inner shrine of the firm of +Grant & Son. The quarters were new since he had left the East; the +furnishings revealed that large simplicity which is elegance and wealth. +A painting of the elder Grant hung from the wall; Dennison stood before +it, looking into the sad, capable, grey eyes. What had life brought to +his father that was worth the price those eyes reflected? Dennison found +his own eyes moistening with memories now strangely poignant.... + +“Environment,” the young man murmured, as he turned from the portrait, +“environment, master of everything! And yet--” + +A photograph of Roy stood on the mantelpiece, and beside it, in a little +silver frame, was one of his mother.... Grant pulled himself together +and fell to an examination of the papers in his father’s desk. + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Grant’s first concern was to get a grasp of the business affairs which +had so unexpectedly come under his direction. To accomplish this he +continued the practice of the Landson ranch; he was up every morning at +five, and had done a day’s work before the members of his staff began to +assemble. For advice he turned to Jones and Murdoch, and the management +of routine affairs he left entirely in the hands of the latter. He had +soon convinced himself that the camaraderie of the ranch would not work +in a staff of this kind, so while he was formulating plans of his own +he left the administration to Murdoch. He found this absence of +companionship the most unpleasant feature of his position; it seemed +that his wealth had elevated him out of the human family. He wavered +between amusement and annoyance over the deference that was paid him. +Some of the staff were openly terrified at his approach. + +Not so Miss Bruce. Miss Bruce had tapped on the door and entered with +the words, “I was your father’s stenographer. He left practically all +his personal correspondence to me. I worked at this desk in the corner, +and had a private office through the door there into which I slipped +when my absence was preferred.” + +She had crossed the room, and, instead of standing respectfully before +Grant’s desk, had come around the end of it. Grant looked up with +some surprise, and noted that her features were not without commending +qualities. The mouth, a little large, perhaps-- + +“How do you think you’re going to like your job?” she asked. + +Grant swung around quickly in his chair. No one in the staff had spoken +to him like that; Murdoch himself would not have dared address him in so +familiar a manner. He decided to take a firm position. + +“Were you in the habit of speaking to my father like that?” + +“Your father was a man well on in years, Mr. Grant. Every man according +to his age.” + +“I am the head of the firm.” + +“That is so,” she assented. “But if it were not for me and the others on +your pay roll there would be no firm to require a head, and you’d be out +of a job. You see, we are quite as essential to you as you are to us.” + +Grant looked at her keenly. Whatever her words, he had to admit that +her tone was not impertinent. She had a manner of stating a fact, rather +than engaging in an argument. There was nothing hostile about her. She +had voiced these sentiments in as matter-of-fact a way as if she were +saying, “It’s raining out; you had better take your umbrella.” + +“You appear to be a very advanced young woman,” he remarked. “I am a +little surprised--I had hardly thought my father would select young +women of your type as his confidential secretaries.” + +“Private stenographer,” she corrected. “A little extra side on a title +is neither here nor there. Well, I will admit that I rather took your +father’s breath at times; he discharged me so often it became a habit, +but we grew to have a sort of tacit understanding that that was just his +way of blowing off steam. You see, I did his work, and I did it right. +I never lost my head when he got into a temper; I could always read my +notes even after he had spent most of the day in death grips with some +business rival. You see, I wasn’t afraid of him, not the least bit. And +I’m not afraid of you.” + +“I don’t believe you are,” Grant admitted. “You are a remarkable woman. +I think we shall get along all right if you are able to distinguish +between independence and bravado.” He turned to his desk, then suddenly +looked up again. He was homesick for someone he could talk to frankly. + +“I don’t mind telling you,” he said abruptly, “that the deference which +is being showered upon me around this institution gives me a good deal +of a pain. I’ve been accustomed to working with men on the same level. +They took their orders from me, and they carried them out, but the older +hands called me by my first name, and any of them swore back when he +thought he had occasion. I can’t fit in to this ‘Yes sir,’ ‘No sir,’ +‘Very good, sir,’ way of doing business. It doesn’t ring true.” + +“I know what you mean,” she said. “There’s too much servility in it. And +yet one may pay these courtesies and not be servile. I always ‘sir’d’ +your father, and he knew I did it because I wanted to, not because I had +to. And I shall do the same with you once we understand each other. The +position I want to make clear is this: I don’t admit that because I work +for you I belong to a lower order of the human family than you do, and I +don’t admit that, aside from the giving of faithful service, I am under +any obligation to you. I give you my labor, worth so much; you pay me; +we’re square. If we can accept that as an understanding I’m ready to +begin work now; if not, I’m going out to look for another job.” + +“I think we can accept that as a working basis,” he agreed. + +She produced notebook and pencil. “Very well, SIR. Do you wish to +dictate?” + +The selection of a place to call home was a matter demanding Grant’s +early attention. He discussed it with Mr. Jones. + +“Of course you will take memberships in some of the better clubs,” the +lawyer had suggested. “It’s the best home life there is. That is why it +is not to be recommended to married men; it has a tendency to break up +the domestic circle.” + +“But it will cost more than I can afford.” + +“Nonsense! You could buy out one of their clubs, holus-bolus, if you +wanted to.” + +“You don’t quite get me,” said Grant. “If I used the money which was +left by my father, or the income from the business, no doubt I could +do as you say. But I feel that that money isn’t really mine. You see, I +never earned it, and I don’t see how a person can, morally, spend money +that he did not earn.” + +“Then there are a great many immoral people in the world,” the lawyer +observed, dryly. + +“I am disposed to agree with you,” said Grant, somewhat pointedly. “But +I don’t intend that they shall set my standards.” + +“You have your salary. That comes under the head of earnings, if you are +finnicky about the profits. What do you propose to pay yourself?” + +“I have been thinking about that. On the ranch I got a hundred dollars a +month, and board.” + +“Well, your father got twenty thousand a year, and Roy half that, and if +they wanted more they charged it up as expenses.” + +“Considering the cost of board here, I think I would be justified in +taking two hundred dollars a month,” Grant continued. + +Jones got up and took the young man by the shoulders. “Look here, Grant, +you’re not taking yourself seriously. I don’t want to assail your pet +theories--you’ll grow out of them in time--but you hired me to give you +advice, and right here I advise you not to make a fool of yourself. You +are now in a big position; you’re a big man, and you’ve got to live in +a big way. If for nothing else than to hold the confidence of the public +you must do it. Do you think they’re going to intrust their investments +to a firm headed by a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man?” + +“But I AM a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man. In fact, I’m not sure I’m +worth quite that much. I’ve got no more muscle, and no more sense, and +very little more experience than I had a month ago, when in the open +market my services commanded a hundred and board.” + +“When a man is big enough--or his job is big enough--” Jones argued, “he +arises above the ordinary law of supply and demand. In fact, in a sense, +he controls supply and demand. He puts himself in the job and dictates +the salary. You have a perfect right to pay yourself what other men in +similar positions are getting. Besides, as I said, you’ll have to do +so for the credit of the firm. Do you call a doctor who lives in a +tumble-down tenement? You do not. You call one from a fine home; you +select him for his appearance of prosperity, regardless of the fact that +he may have mortgaged his future to create that appearance, and of the +further fact that he will charge you a fee calculated to help pay +off the mortgage. When you want a lawyer, do you seek some garret +practitioner? You do not. You go to a big building, with a big name +plate”--the pugnacious moustache gave hint of a smile gathering +beneath--“and you pay a big price for a man with an office full of +imposing-looking books, not a tenth part of which he has ever read, or +intends ever to read. I admit there’s a good deal of bunco in the game, +but if you sit in you’ve got to play it that way, or the dear public +will throw you into the discard. Many a man who votes himself a salary +in five figures--or gets a friendly board of directors to do it for +him--if thrown unfriended between the millstones of supply and demand +probably couldn’t qualify for your modest hundred dollars a month +and board. But he has risen into a different world; instead of being +dictated to, he dictates. That is your position, Grant. Look at it +sensibly.” + +“Nevertheless, I shall get along on two hundred a month. If I find it +necessary in order to protect the interests of the business to take a +membership in an expensive club, or commit any other extravagance, I +shall do so, and charge it up as a business expense. Besides, I think I +can be happier that way.” + +“And in the meantime your business is piling up profits. What are you +going to do with them? Give them away?” + +“No. That, too, is immoral--whether it be a quarter to a beggar or a +library to a city. It feeds the desire to get money without earning it, +which is the most immoral of all our desires. I have not yet decided +what I shall do with it. I have hired an expert, in you, to show me how +to make money. I shall probably find it necessary to hire another to +show me how to dispose of it. But not a dollar will be given away.” + +“And so you would let the beggar starve? That’s a new kind of altruism.” + +“No. I would correct the conditions that made him a beggar. That’s +the only kind of altruism that will make him something better than a +beggar.” + +“Some people would beg in any case, Grant. They are incapable of +anything better.” + +“Then they are defectives, and should be cared for by the State.” + +“Then the State may practise charity--” + +“It is not charity; it is the discharge of an obligation. A father may +support his children, but he must not let anyone else do it.” + +“Well, I give up,” said Jones. “You’re beyond me.” + +Grant laughed and extended a cigar box. “Don’t hesitate,” he said, “this +doesn’t come out of the two hundred. This is entertainment expense. And +you must come and see me when I get settled.” + +“When you get settled--yes. You won’t be settled until you’re married, +and you might as well do some thinking about that. A man in your +position gets a pretty good range of choice; you’d be surprised if you +knew the wire-pulling I have already encountered; ambitious old dames +fishing for introductions for their daughters. You may be an expert with +rope or branding-iron, but you’re outclassed in this matrimonial game, +and some one of them will land you one of these times before you know +it. You should be very proud,” and Mr. Jones struck something of an +attitude. “The youth and beauty of the city are raving about you.” + +“About my money,” Grant retorted. “If my father had had time to change +his will they would every one of them have passed me by with their noses +in the air. As for marrying--that’s all off.” + +The lawyer was about to aim a humorous sally, but something in Grant’s +appearance closed his lips. “Very well, I’ll come and see you if you say +when,” he agreed. + +Grant found what he wanted in a little apartment house on a side street, +overlooking the lake. Here was a place where the vision could leap out +without being beaten back by barricades of stone and brick. He rested +his eyes on the distance, and assured the inveigling landlady that the +rooms would do, and he would arrange for decorating at his own expense. +There was a living-room, about the size of his shack on the Landson +ranch; a bathroom, and a kitchenette, and the rent was twenty-two +dollars a month. A decorator was called in to repaper the bathroom +and kitchenette, but for the living-room Grant engaged a carpenter. +He ordered that the inside of the room should be boarded up with rough +boards, with exposed scantlings on the walls and ceiling. No doubt the +tradesman thought his patron mad, or nearly so, but his business was to +obey orders, and when the job was completed it presented a very passable +duplicate of Grant’s old quarters on the ranch. He had spared the +fireplace, as a concession to comfort. When he had gotten his personal +effects out of storage, when he had hung rifle, saddle and lariat +from spikes in the wall; had built a little book-shelf and set his old +favorites upon it; had installed his bed and the trunk with the big +D. G.; sitting in his arm chair before the fire, with Fidget’s nose +snuggled companionably against his foot, he would not have traded his +quarters for the finest suite in the most expensive club in the city. +Here was something at least akin to home. + +As he was arranging the books on his shelf the clipping with the account +of Zen’s wedding fell to the floor. He sat down in his chair and read it +slowly through. Later he went out for a walk. + +It was in his long walks that Grant found the only real comfort of his +new life. To be sure, it was not like roaming the foothills; there was +not the soft breath of the Chinook, nor the deep silence of the mighty +valleys. But there was movement and freedom and a chance to think. +The city offered artificial attractions in which the foothills had not +competed; faultlessly kept parks and lawns; splashes of perfume and +color; spraying fountains and vagrant strains of music. He reflected +that some merciful principle of compensation has made no place quite +perfect and no place entirely undesirable. He remembered also the toll +of his life in the saddle; the physical hardship, the strain of long +hours and broken weather. And here, too, in a different way, he was in +the saddle, and he did not know which strain was the greater. He was +beginning to have a higher regard for the men in the saddle of business. +The world saw only their success, or, it may be, their pretence of +success. But there was a different story from all that, which each one +of them could have told for himself. + +On this evening when his mind had been suddenly turned into old channels +by the finding of the newspaper clipping dealing with the wedding of +Y.D.’s daughter, Grant walked far into the outskirts of the city, paying +little attention to his course. It was late October; the leaves lay +thick on the sidewalks and through the parks; there was in all the air +that strange, sad, sweet dreariness of the dying summer.... Grant had +tried heroically to keep his thoughts away from Transley’s wife. The +past had come back on him, had rather engulfed him, in that little +newspaper clipping. He let himself wonder where she was, and whether +nearly a year of married life had shown her the folly of her decision. +He took it for granted that her decision had been folly, and he arrived +at that position without any reflection upon Transley. Only--Zen had +been in love with him, with him, Dennison Grant! Sooner or later she +must discover the tragedy of that fact, and yet he told himself he was +big enough to hope she might never discover it. It would be best that +she should forget him, as he had--almost--forgotten her. There was no +doubt that would be best. And yet there was a delightful sadness in +thinking of her still, and hoping that some day--He was never able to +complete the thought. + +He had been walking down a street of modest homes; the bare trees groped +into a sky clear and blue with the first chill presage of winter. A +quick step fell unheeded by his side; the girl passed, hesitated, then +turned and spoke. + +“You are preoccupied, Mr. Grant.” + +“Oh, Miss Bruce, I beg your pardon. I am glad to see you.” Even at that +moment he had been thinking of Zen, and perhaps he put more cordiality +into his words than he intended. But he had grown to have considerable +regard, on her own account, for this unusual girl who was not afraid of +him. He had found that she was what he called “a good head.” She could +take a detached view; she was absolutely fair; she was not easily +flustered. + +Her step had fallen into swing with his. + +“You do not often visit our part of the city,” she essayed. + +“You live here?” + +“Near by. Will you come and see?” + +He turned with her at a corner, and they went up a narrow street lying +deep in dead leaves. Friendly domestic glimpses could be caught through +unblinded windows. + +“This is our home,” she said, stopping before a little gate. Grant’s eye +followed the pathway to a cottage set back among the trees. “I live +here with my sister and brother and mother. Father is dead,” she went on +hurriedly, as though wishing to place before him a quick digest of the +family affairs, “and we keep up the home by living on with mother as +boarders; that is, Grace and I do. Hubert is still in high school. Won’t +you come in?” + +He followed her up the path and into a little hall, lighted only by +chance rays falling through a half-opened door. She did not switch on +the current, and Grant was aware of a comfortable sense of her nearness, +quite distinct from any office experience, as she took his hat. In the +living-room her mother received him with visible surprise. She was not +old, but widowhood and the cares of a young family had whitened her hair +before its time. + +“We are glad to see you, Mr. Grant,” she said. “It is an unexpected +pleasure. Big business men do not often--” + +“Mr. Grant is different,” her daughter interrupted, lightly. “I found +him wandering the streets and I just--retrieved him.” + +“I think I AM different,” he admitted, as his eye took in the +surroundings, which he appraised quickly as modest comfort, attained +through many little economies and makeshifts. “You are very happy here,” + he went on, frankly. “Much more so, I should say, than in many of the +more pretentious homes. I have always contended that, beyond the margin +necessary for decent living, the possession of money is a burden and a +handicap, and I see no reason to change my opinion.” + +“Phyllis is a great help to me--and Grace,” the mother observed. “I hope +she is a good girl in the office.” + +Grant was hurrying an assent but the girl interrupted, perhaps wishing +to relieve him of the necessity of an answer. + +“‘Decent living’ is a very elastic term,” she remarked. “There are +so many standards. Some women think they must have maids and social +status--whatever that is--and so on. It can’t be done on mother’s +income.” + +“That quality is not confined to women,” Grant said. “I know I am +regarded as something of a freak because I prefer to live simply. They +can’t understand my preference for a plain room to read and sleep in, +for quiet walks by myself when I might be buzzing around in big motor +cars or revelling with a bunch at the club. I suppose it’s a puzzle to +them.” + +Miss Bruce had seated herself near him. “They are beginning to offer +explanations,” she said. “I hear them--such things always filter down. +They say you are mean and niggardly--that you’re afraid to spend a +dollar. The fact that you have raised the wages of your staff doesn’t +seem to answer them; they rather hold that against you, because it has +a tendency to make them do the same. Other office staffs are going to +their heads and saying, ‘Grant is paying his help so much.’ That doesn’t +popularize you. To be a good fellow you should hold your staff down to +the lowest wages at which you can get service, and the money you save in +this way should be spent with gusto and abandon at expensive hotels and +other places designed to keep rich people from getting too rich.” + +“I am afraid you are satirizing them a little, but there is a good deal +in what you say. They think I’m mean because they don’t understand me, +and they can’t understand my point of view. I believe that money was +created as a medium for the exchange of value. I think they will all +agree with me there. If that is so, then I have no right to money unless +I have given value for it, and that is where they part company with me; +but surely we can’t accept the one fact without the other.” + +Grant found himself thumbing his pockets. “You may smoke, if you have +tobacco,” said Mrs. Bruce. “My husband smoked, and although I did not +approve of it then, I think I must have grown to like it.” + +He lighted a cigarette, and continued. “Not all the moral law was given +on Mount Sinai. It seems to me that the supernaturalism which has been +introduced into the story of the Ten Commandments is most unfortunate. +It seems to remove them out of the field of natural law, whereas they +are, really, natural law itself. No social state can exist where they +are habitually ignored. But of course these natural laws existed long +before Moses. He did not make the law; he discovered it, just as Newton +discovered the law of gravitation. Well--there must be many other +natural laws, still undiscovered, or at least unaccepted. The thing is +to discover them, to obey them, and, eventually, to compel others to +obey them. I am no Moses, but I think I have the germ of the law which +would cure our economic ills--that no person should be allowed to +receive value without earning it. Because I believed in that I gave up +a fortune and went to work as a laborer on a ranch, but Fate has forced +wealth upon me, doubtless in order that I may prove out my own theories. +Well, that is what I am doing.” + +“It shouldn’t be hard to get rid of money if you don’t want it,” Mrs. +Bruce ventured. + +“But it is. It is the hardest kind of thing. You see, I am limited by +my principles. I believe it is morally wrong to receive money without +earning it; consequently I cannot give it away, as by doing so I would +place the recipient in that position. I believe it is morally wrong to +spend on myself money which I have not earned; consequently I can +spend only what I conceive to be a reasonable return for my services. +Meanwhile, my wealth keeps rolling up.” + +“It’s a knotty problem,” said Phyllis. “I think there is only one +solution.” + +“And that is?--” + +“Marry a woman who is a good spender.” + +At this moment Grace and Hubert came in from the picture-show together, +and the conversation turned to lighter topics. Mrs. Bruce insisted +on serving tea and cake, and when Grant found that he must go Phyllis +accompanied him to the gate. + +“This all seems so funny,” she was saying. “You are a very remarkable +man.” + +“I think I once passed a similar opinion about you.” + +She extended her hand, and he held it for a moment. “I have not changed +my first opinion,” he said, as he released her fingers and turned +quickly down the pavement. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Grant’s first visit to the home of his private stenographer was not his +last, and the news leaked out, as it is sure to do in such cases. The +social set confessed to being on the point of being shocked. Two schools +of criticism developed over the five o’clock tea tables; one held that +Grant was a gay dog who would settle down and marry in his class when he +had had his fling, and the other that Phyllis Bruce was an artful hussy +who was quite ready to sell herself for the Grant millions. And there +were so many eligible young women on the market, although none of them +were described as artful hussies! + +Grant’s behavior, however, placed him under no cloud in so far as social +opportunities were concerned; on the contrary, he found himself being +showered with invitations, most of which he managed to decline on the +grounds of pressure of business. When such an excuse would have been too +transparent he accepted and made the best of it, and he found no lack +of encouragement in the one or two incipient amorous flurries which +resulted. From such positions he always succeeded in extricating +himself, with a quiet smile at the vagaries of life. He had to admit +that some of the young women whom he had met had charms of more +than passing moment; he might easily enough find himself chasing the +rainbow.... + +Mrs. LeCord carried the warfare into his own office. The late Mr. LeCord +had left her to face the world with a comfortable fortune and three +daughters, of whom the youngest was now married and the oldest was a +forlorn hope. To place the second was now her purpose, and the best +bargain on the market was young Grant. Caroline, she was sure, would +make a very acceptable wife, and the young lady herself confessed a +belief that she could love even a bold Westerner whose bank balance was +expressed in seven figures. + +The fact that Grant avoided social functions only added zest to the +determination with which Mrs. LeCord carried the war into his own +office. She chose to consult him for advice on financial matters and she +came accompanied by Caroline, a young woman rather prepossessing in her +own right. The two were readily admitted into Grant’s private office, +where they had opportunity not only to meet the young man in person, but +to satisfy their curiosity concerning the Bruce girl. + +“I am Mrs. LeCord, Mr. Grant,” the lady introduced herself. “This is my +daughter Caroline. We wish to consult you on certain financial matters, +privately, if you please.” + +Grant received them cordially. “I shall be glad to advise you, if I +can,” he said. + +Mrs. LeCord cast a significant glance at Phyllis Bruce. + +“Miss Bruce is my private stenographer. You may speak with perfect +freedom.” + +Mrs. LeCord took up her subject after a moment’s silence. “Mr. LeCord +left me not entirely unprovided for,” she explained. “Almost a million +dollars in bonds and real estate made a comfortable protection for me +and my three daughters against the buffetings of a world which, as you +may have found, Mr. Grant, is not over-considerate.” + +“The buffetings of the world are an excellent training for the world’s +affairs.” + +“Maybe so, maybe so,” his visitor conceded. “However, there are other +trainings--trainings of finer quality, Mr. Grant--than those which have +to do with subsistence. I have been able to give my daughters the best +education that money could command, and, if I do say it, I permit myself +some gratification over the result. Gretta is comfortably and happily +married,--a young man of some distinction in the financial world--a Mr. +Powers, Mr. Newton Powers--you may happen to know him; Madge, I think, +is always going to be her mother’s girl; Caroline is still heart-free, +although one can never tell--” + +“Oh, mother!” the girl protested, blushing daintily. + +“I said you could never tell, Mr. Grant,--while handsome young men like +yourself are at large.” Mrs. LeCord laughed heartily, as much as to say +that her remark must be regarded only as a little pleasantry. “But you +will think I am a gossipy old body,” she continued briskly. “I really +came to discuss certain financial matters. Since Mr. LeCord’s death +I have taken charge of all the family business affairs with, if I +may confess it, some success. We have lived, and my girls have been +educated, and our little reserve against a rainy day has been almost +doubled, in addition to giving Gretta a hundred thousand in her own +right on the occasion of her marriage. Caroline is to have the same, and +when I am done with it there will be a third of the estate for each. In +the meantime I am directing my investments as wisely as I can. I want my +daughters to be provided for, quite apart from any income marriage may +bring them. I should be greatly humiliated to think that any daughter of +mine would be dependent upon her husband for support. On the contrary, +I mean that they shall bring to their husbands a sum which will be an +appreciable contribution toward the family fortune.” + +“If I can help you in any way in your financial matters--” Grant +suggested. + +“Oh, yes, we must get back to that. How I wander! I’m afraid, Mr. Grant, +I must be growing old.” + +Grant protested gallantly against such conclusion, and Mrs. LeCord, +after asking his opinion on certain issues shortly to be floated, arose +to leave. + +“You must find life in this city somewhat lonely, Mr. Grant,” she +murmured as she drew on her gloves. “If ever you find a longing for a +quiet hour away from business stress--a little domesticity, if I may say +it--our house--” + +“You are very kind. Business allows me very few intermissions. Still--” + +She extended her hand with her sweetest smile. Caroline shook hands, +too, and Grant bowed them out. + +On other occasions Mrs. LeCord and her daughter were fortunate enough +to find Grant alone, and at such times the mother’s conversation became +even more pointed than in their first interview. Grant hesitated to +offend her, mainly on account of Caroline, for whom he admitted to +himself it would not be at all difficult to muster up an attachment. +There were, however, three barriers to such a development. One was the +obvious purpose of Mrs. LeCord to arrange a match; a purpose which, as +a mere matter of the game, he could not allow her to accomplish. One was +Zen Transley. There was no doubt about it. Zen Transley stood between +him and marriage to any girl. Not that he ever expected to take her +into his life, or be admitted into hers, but in some way she hedged him +about. He felt that everything was not yet settled; he found +himself entertaining a foolish sense that everything was not quite +irrevocable.... And then there was--perhaps--Phyllis Bruce. + +When at length, for some reason, Mrs. LeCord visited him alone he +decided to be frank with her. + +“You have thought me clever enough to advise you on financial matters?” + he queried, when his visitor had discussed at some length the new loan +in which she was investing. + +“Why, yes,” she returned, detecting the personal note in his voice. “I +sometimes think, Mr. Grant, you hardly do yourself justice. Even the +hardest old heads on the Exchange are taking notice of you. I have heard +your name mentioned--” + +“Then it may be presumed,” he interrupted, “that I am clever enough to +know the real purpose of your visits to this office?” + +She turned a little in her chair, facing him squarely. “I hardly +understand you, Mr. Grant.” + +“Then I possess an advantage, because I quite clearly understand you. +I have hesitated, out of consideration for your daughter, to show any +resentment of your behavior. But I must now tell you that when I marry, +if ever I do, I shall choose my wife without the assistance of her +mother, and without regard to her dowry or the size of the family bank +account.” + +“Oh, I protest!” exclaimed Mrs. LeCord, who had grown very red. “I +protest against any such conclusion. I have seen fit to intrust +my financial affairs to your firm; I have visited you on +business--accompanied at times by my daughter, it is true--but only on +business; recognizing in you a social equal I have invited you to my +house, a courtesy which, so far, you have not found yourself able to +accept; but in all this I have shown toward you surely nothing but +friendliness and a respect amounting, if I may say it, to esteem. But +now that you are frank, Mr. Grant, I too will be frank. You cannot be +unaware of the rumors which have been associated with your name?” + +“You mean about Miss Bruce?” + +“Ah, then you know of them. You are a young man, and we older people are +disposed to make allowance for the--for that. But you must realize the +great mistake you would be making should you allow this matter to become +more than--a rumor.” + +“I do not admit your right to question me on such a subject, Mrs. +LeCord, but I shall not avoid a discussion of it. Suppose, for the sake +of argument, that I were to contemplate marriage with Miss Bruce; if +she and her relatives were agreeable, what right would anyone have to +object?” + +“It would be a great mistake,” Mrs. LeCord insisted, avoiding his +question. “She is not in your class--” + +“What do you mean by ‘class’?” + +“Why, I mean socially, of course. She lives in a different world. She +has no standing, in a social way. She works in an office for a living--” + +“So do I,” he interrupted, “and your daughters do not. It would +therefore appear that I am more in Miss Bruce’s ‘class’ than in theirs.” + +“Ah, but you are an employer. You direct things. You work because you +want to, not because you have to. That makes a difference.” + +“Apparently it does. Well, if I had my way, everybody would work, +whether he wanted to or not. I would not allow any healthy man to +spend money which he had not earned by the sweat of his own brow. I am +convinced that that is the only economic system which is sound at +the bottom, but it would destroy ‘class,’ as at present organized, so +‘class’ must fight it.” + +“I am afraid you are rather radical, Mr. Grant. You may be sure that a +system which has served so long and so well is a good system.” + +“That introduces the clash between East and West. The East says because +things are so, and have always been so, they must be right. The West +says because things are so, and have always been so, they are in all +probability wrong. I guess I am a Westerner.” + +“You should not allow your theories of economics to stand in the way of +your success,” Mrs. LeCord pursued. “Suppose I admit that Caroline would +not be altogether deaf to your advances. Suppose I admit that much. +Allowing for a mother’s prejudice, will you not agree with me that +Caroline has her attractions? She is well bred, well educated, and not +without appearance. She belongs to the smartest set in town. Her circle +would bring you not only social distinction, but valuable business +connections. She would introduce that touch of refinement--” + +But Grant, now thoroughly angry, had risen from his chair. “You speak +of refinement,” he exclaimed, in the quick, sharp tones which alone +revealed the fighting Grant;--“you, who have been guilty of--I could use +a very ugly word which I will give you the credit of not understanding. +When I decide to buy myself a wife I will send to you for a catalogue of +your daughter’s charms.” + +Grant dismissed Mrs. LeCord from his office with the confident +expectation that he soon would have occasion to know something of the +meaning of the proverb about hell’s furies and a woman scorned. She +would strike at him, of course, through Phyllis Bruce. Well-- + +But his attention was at once to be turned to very different matters. +A stock market, erratic for some days, went suddenly into a paroxysm. +Grant escaped with as little loss as possible for himself and his +clients, and after three sleepless nights called his staff together. +They crowded into the board-room, curious, apprehensive, almost +frightened, and he looked over them with an emotion that was quite new +to his experience. Even in the aloofness which their standards had made +it necessary for him to adopt there had grown up in his heart, quite +unnoticed, a tender, sweet foliage of love for these men and women who +were a part of his machine. Now, as he looked in their faces he +realized how, like little children, they leaned on him--how, like little +children, they feared his power and his displeasure--how, perhaps, like +little children, they had learned to love him, too. He realized, as he +had never done before, that they WERE children; that here and there in +the mass of humanity is one who was born to lead, but the great mass +itself must be children always, doing as they are bid. + +“My friends,” he managed to say, “we suddenly find ourselves in +tremendous times. Some of you know my attitude toward this business +in which we are engaged. I did not seek it; I did not approve of it; +I tried to avoid it; yet, when the responsibility was forced upon me +I accepted that responsibility. I gave up the life I enjoyed, the +environment in which I found delight, the friends I loved. Well--our +nation is now in a somewhat similar position. It has to go into a +business which it did not seek, of which it does not approve, but which +fate has thrust upon it. It has to break off the current of its life and +turn it into undreamed-of channels, and we, as individuals who make up +the nation, must do the same. I have already enlisted, and expect that +within a few hours I shall be in uniform. Some of you are single men of +military age; you will, I am sure, take similar steps. For the rest--the +business will be wound up as soon as possible, so that you may be +released for some form of national service. You will all receive three +months’ salary in lieu of notice. Mr. Murdoch will look after the +details. When that has been done my wealth, or such part of it as +remains, will be placed at the disposal of the Government. If we win it +will be well invested in a good cause; if we lose, it would have been +lost anyway.” + +“We are not going to lose!” It was one of the younger clerks who +interrupted; he stood up and for a moment looked straight at his chief. +In that instant’s play of vision there was surely something more than +can be told in words, for the next moment he rushed forward and seized +one of Grant’s hands in both his own. There was a moment’s handclasp, +and the boy had become a man. + +“I’m going, Grant,” he said. “I’m going--NOW!” + +He turned and made his way out of the room, leaving his chief breathless +in a rapture of joy and pride. Others crowded up. They too were +going--NOW. Even old Murdoch tried to protest that he was as good a man +as ever. It seemed to Grant that the drab everyday costumings of his +staff had fallen away, and now they were heroes, they were gods! + +No one knew just how the meeting broke up, but Grant had a confused +remembrance of many handclasps and some tears. He was not sure that he +had not, perhaps, added one or two to the flow, but they were all +tears of friendship and of an emotion born of high resolve.... The most +wonderful thing was that the youngster had called him Grant! + +As he stood in his own office again, trying to get the events of these +last few days into some sort of perspective, Phyllis Bruce entered. He +motioned dumbly to a chair, but she came and stood by his desk. Her face +was very white and her lips trembled with the words she tried to utter. + +“I can’t go,” she managed to say at length. + +“Can’t go? I don’t understand?” + +“Hubert has joined,” she said. + +“Hubert, the boy! Why, he is only in school--” + +“He is sixteen, and large for his age. He came home confessing, and +saying it was his first lie, and the first important thing he ever did +without consulting mother. He said he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand +it if he told her first.” + +“Foolish, but heroic,” Grant commented. “Be proud of him. It takes more +than wisdom to be heroic.” + +“And Grace is going to England. She was taking nursing, you know, and so +gets a preference. We can’t ALL leave mother.” + +He found it difficult to speak. “You wanted to go to the Front?” he +managed. + +“Of course; where else?” + +Her hand was on the desk; his own slipped over until it closed on it. + +“You are a little heroine,” he murmured. + +“No, I’m not. I’m a little fool to tell you this, but how can I +stay--why should I stay--when you are gone?” + +She was looking down, but after her confession she raised her eyes to +his, and he wondered that he had never known how beautiful she was. +He could have taken her in his arms, but something, with the power of +invisible chains, held him back. In that supreme moment a vision swam +before him; a vision of a mountain stream backed by tawny foothills, +and a girl as beautiful as even this Phyllis who had wrapped him in her +arms... and said, “We must go and forget.” And he had not forgotten.... + +When he did not respond she drew herself slowly away. “You will hate +me,” she said. + +“That is impossible,” he corrected, quickly. “I am very sorry if I +have let you think more than I intended. I care for you very, very much +indeed. I care for you so much that I will not let you think I care for +you more. Can you understand that?” + +“Yes. You like me, but you love someone else.” + +He was disconcerted by her intuition and the terse frankness with which +she stated the case. + +“I will take you into my confidence, Phyllis, if I may,” he said at +length. “I DO like you; I DID love someone else. And that old attachment +is still so strong that it would be hardly fair--it would be hardly +fair--” + +“Why didn’t you marry her?” she demanded. + +“Because some one else did.” + +“Oh!” + +Her hands found his this time. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry I +brought this up--sorry I raised these memories. But now you--who have +known--will know--” + +“I know--I know,” he murmured, raising her fingers to his lips.... + +“Time, they say, is a healer of all wounds. Perhaps--” + +“No. It is better that you should forget. Only, I shall see you off; I +shall wave my handkerchief to YOU; I shall smile on YOU in the crowd. +Then--you will forget.”... + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Four years of war add only four years to the life of a man according +to the record in the family Bible, if he happen to spring from stock +in which that sacred document is preserved. But four years of war add +twenty years to the grey matter behind the eyes--eyes which learn to +dream and ponder strangely, and sometimes to shine with a hardness that +has no part with youth. When Captain Grant and Sergeant Linder stepped +off the train at Grant’s old city there was, however, little to suggest +the ageing process that commonly went on among the soldiers in the Great +War. Grant had twice stopped an enemy bullet, but his fine figure and +sunburned health now gave no evidence of those experiences. Linder +counted himself lucky to carry only an empty sleeve. + +They had fallen in with each other in France, and the friendship planted +in the foothills of the range country had grown, through the strange +prunings and graftings of war, into a tree of very solid timber. Linder +might have told you of the time his captain found him with his arm +crushed under a wrecked piece of artillery, and Grant could have +recounted a story of being dragged unconscious out of No Man’s Land, but +for either to dwell upon these matters only aroused the resentment of +the other, and frequently led to exchanges between captain and sergeant +totally incompatible with military discipline. They were content to pay +tribute to each other, but each to leave his own honors unheralded. + +“First thing is a place to eat,” Grant remarked, when they had been +dismissed. Words to similar effect had, indeed, been his first remark +upon every suitable opportunity for three months. An appetite which +has been four years in the making is not to be satisfied overnight, and +Grant, being better fortified financially against the stress of a good +meal, sought to be always first to suggest it. Linder accepted the +situation with the complacence of a man who has been four years on army +pay. + +When they had eaten they took a walk through the old town--Grant’s old +town. It looked as though he had stepped out of it yesterday; it was +hard to realize that ages lay between. There are experiences which soak +in slowly, like water into a log. The new element surrounds the body, +but it may be months before it penetrates to the heart. Grant had some +sense of that fact as he walked the old familiar streets, apparently +unchanged by all these cataclysmic days.... In time he would come to +understand. There was the name plate of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon +& Barrett. There had not even been an addition to the firm. Here was +the old Grant office, now used for some administration purpose. That, at +least, was a move in the right direction. + +They wandered along aimlessly while the sunset of an early summer +evening marshalled its glories overhead. On a side street children +played in the roadway; on a vacant spot a game of ball was in progress. +Women sat on their verandas and shot casual glances after them as they +passed. Handsome pleasure cars glided about; there was a smell of new +flowers in all the air. + +“What do you make of it, mate?” said Grant at last. + +Linder pulled slowly on his cigarette. Even his training as a sergeant +had not made him ready of speech, but when he spoke it was, as ever, to +the point. + +“It’s all so unnecessary,” he commented at length. + +“That’s the way it gets me, too. So unnecessary. You see, when you +get down to fundamentals there are only two things necessary--food +and shelter. Everything else may be described as trimmings. We’ve +been dealing with fundamentals so long---mighty bare fundamentals at +that--that all these trimmings seem just a little irritating, don’t you +think?” + +“I follow you. I simply can’t imagine myself worrying over a stray +calf.” + +“And I can’t imagine myself sitting in an office and dealing with such +unessential things as stocks and bonds.... And I’m not going to.” + +“Got any notion what you will do?” said Linder, when he had reached the +middle of another cigarette. + +“Not the slightest. I don’t even know whether I’m rich or broke. I +suppose if Jones and Murdoch are still alive they will be looking +after those details. Doing their best, doubtless, to embarrass me with +additional wealth. What are YOU going to do?” + +“Don’t know. Maybe go back and work for Transley.” + +The mention of Transley threw Grant’s mind back into old channels. He +had almost forgotten Transley. He told himself he had quite forgotten +Zen Transley, but once he knew he lied. That was when they potted him +in No Man’s Land. As he lay there, waiting.... he knew he had not +forgotten. And he had thought many times of Phyllis Bruce. At first he +had written to her, but she had not answered his letters. Evidently +she meant him to forget. Nor had she come to the station to welcome him +home. Perhaps she did not know. Perhaps--Many things can happen in four +years. + +Suddenly it occurred to Grant that it might be a good idea to call on +Phyllis. He would take Linder along. That would make it less personal. +He knew his man well enough to keep his own counsel, and eventually they +reached the gate of the Bruce cottage, as though by accident. + +“Let’s turn in here. I used to know these people. Mother and daughter; +very fine folk.” + +Linder looked for an avenue of retreat, but Grant barred his way, and +together they went up the path. A strange woman, with a baby on her arm, +met them at the door. Grant inquired for Mrs. Bruce and her daughter. + +“Oh, you haven’t heard?” said the woman. “I suppose you are just back. +Well, it was a sad thing, but these have been sad times. It was when +Hubert was killed I came here first. Poor dear, she took that to heart +awful, and couldn’t be left alone, and Phyllis was working in an office, +so I came here part time to help out. Then she was just beginning to +brace up again when we got the word about Grace. Grace, you know, was +lost on a hospital ship. That was too much for her.” + +Grant received this information with a strange catching about the heart. +There had been changes, after all. + +“What became of Phyllis?” He tried to ask the question in an even voice. + +“I moved into the house after Mrs. Bruce died,” the woman continued, “as +my man came back discharged about that time. Phyllis tried to get on as +a nurse, but couldn’t manage it. Then her office was moved to another +part of the city and she took rooms somewhere. At first she came to see +us often, but not lately. I suppose she’s trying to forget.” + +“Trying to forget,” Grant muttered to himself. “How much of life is made +up of trying to forget!” + +Further questions brought no further information. The woman didn’t +know the firm for which Phyllis worked; she thought it had to do with +munitions. Suddenly Grant found himself impelled by a tremendous desire +to locate this girl. He would set about it at once; possibly Jones or +Murdoch could give him information. Strangely enough, he now felt that +he would prefer to be rid of Linder’s company. This was a matter for +himself alone. He took Linder to an hotel, where they arranged for +lodgings, and then started on his search. + +He located Murdoch without difficulty. It was now late, and the old +clerk came down the stairs with inoffensive imprecations upon the head +of his untimely caller, but his mutterings soon gave way to a cry of +delight. + +“My dear boy!” he exclaimed, embracing him. “My dear boy--excuse me, +sir, I’m a blithering old man, but oh! sir--my boy, you’re home again!” + There was no doubting the depth of old Murdoch’s welcome. He ran before +Grant into the living-room and switched on the lights. In a moment +he was back with his arm about the young man’s shoulder; he was with +difficulty restraining caresses. + +“Sit you down, Mr. Grant; here--this chair--it’s easier. I must get the +women up. This is no night for sleeping. Why didn’t you send us word?” + +“There is a tradition that official word is sent in advance,” Grant +tried to explain. + +“Aye, a tradition. There’s a tradition that a Scotsman is a dour body +without any sentiment. Well--I must call the women.” + +He hurried up the stairs and Grant settled back into his chair. So this +was the home of Murdoch, the man who really had earned a considerable +part of the Grant fortune. He had never visited Murdoch before; he had +never thought of him in a domestic sense; Murdoch had always been to him +a man of figures, of competent office routine, of almost too respectful +deference. The light over the centre table fell subdued through a +pinkish shade; the corners of the room lay in restful shadows; the +comfortable furniture showed the marks of years. The walls suggested the +need of new paper; the well-worn carpet had been shifted more than once +for economy’s sake. Grant made a hasty appraisal of these conditions; +possibly his old clerk was feeling the pinch of circumstances-- + +Murdoch, returning, led in his wife, a motherly woman who almost kissed +the young soldier. In the welcome of her greeting it was a moment before +Grant became aware of the presence of a fourth person in the room. + +“I am very glad to see you safely back,” said Phyllis Bruce. “We have +all been thinking about you a great deal.” + +“Why, Miss--Phyllis! It was you I was looking for!” The frank confession +came before he had time to suppress it, and, having said so much, it +seemed better to finish the job. + +“Yes, Phyllis is making her home with us now,” Mrs. Murdoch explained. +“It is more convenient to her work.” + +Grant wondered how much of this arrangement was due to Mrs. Murdoch’s +sympathy for the bereaved girl, and how much to the addition which it +made to the family income. No doubt both considerations had contributed +to it. + +“I called at your old home,” he continued. “I needn’t say how distressed +I was to hear--The woman could tell me nothing of you, so I came to +Murdoch, hoping--” + +“Yes,” she said, simply, as though there were nothing more to explain. +Grant noticed that her eyes were larger and her cheeks paler than they +had been, but the delight of her presence leapt about him. Her hurried +costume seemed to accentuate her beauty despite of all that war had done +to destroy it. There was a silence which lengthened out. They were all +groping for a footing. + +Mrs. Murdoch met the situation by insisting that she would put on +the kettle, and Mr. Murdoch, in a burst of almost divine inspiration, +insisted that his wife was quite incompetent to light the gas alone at +that hour of the night. When the old folks had shuffled into the kitchen +Grant found himself standing close to Phyllis Bruce. + +“Why didn’t you answer my letters?” he demanded, plunging to the issue +with the directness of his nature. + +“Because I had promised to let you forget,” she replied. There was a +softness in her voice which he had not noted in those bygone days; +she seemed more resigned and yet more poised; the strange wizardry of +suffering had worked new wonders in her soul. Suddenly, as he looked +upon her, he became aware of a new quality in Phyllis Bruce--the quality +of gentleness. She had added this to her unique self-confidence, and +it had toned down the angularities of her character. To Grant, straight +from his long exile from fine womanly domesticity, she suddenly seemed +altogether captivating. + +“But I didn’t want to forget!” he insisted. “I wanted not to +forget--YOU.” + +She could not misunderstand the emphasis he placed on that last word, +but she continued as though he had not interrupted. + +“I knew you would write once or twice out of courtesy. I knew you would +do that. I made up my mind that if you wrote three times, then I would +know you really wanted to remember me.... I did not get any third +letter.” + +“But how could I know that you had placed such a test--such an arbitrary +measurement--upon my friendship?” + +“It wasn’t necessary for you to know. If you had cared--enough--you +would have kept on writing.” + +He had to admit to himself that there was just enough truth in what she +said to make her logic unanswerable. His delight in her presence now did +not alter the fact that he had found it quite possible to live for four +years without her, and it was true that upon one or two great vital +moments his mind had leapt, not to Phyllis Bruce, but to Zen Transley! +He blushed at the recollection; it was an impossible situation, but it +was true! + +He was framing some plausible argument about honorable men not +persisting in a correspondence when Murdoch bustled in again. + +“Mother is going to set the dining-room table,” he announced, “and the +coffee will be ready presently. Well, sir, you do look well in uniform. +You will be wondering how the business has gone?” + +“Not half as much as I am wondering some other things,” he said, with +a significance intended for the ear of Phyllis. “You see--I was just +talking it over with a pal to-day, a very good comrade whom I used to +know in the West, and who pulled me out of No Man’s Land where I would +have been lying yet if he hadn’t thought more of me than he did of +himself--I was talking it over with him to-day, and we agreed that +business isn’t worth the effort. Fancy sitting behind a desk, wondering +about the stock market, when you’ve been accustomed to leaning up +against a parapet wondering where the next shell is going to burst! If +that is not from the sublime to the ridiculous, it is at least from the +vital to the inconsequential. You can’t expect men to take a jump like +that.” + +“No, not as a jump,” Murdoch agreed. “They’ll have to move down +gradually. But they must remember that life depends quite as much on +wheat-fields as it does on trenches, and that all the machinery of +commerce and industry is as vital in its way as is the machinery of war. +They must remember that, or instead of being at the end of our troubles +we will find ourselves at the beginning.” + +“I suppose,” Grant conceded, “but it all seems so unnecessary. No doubt +you have been piling up more money to be a problem to my conscience.” + +“Your peculiar conscience, I might almost correct, sir. Your +responsibilities do seem to insist upon increasing. Following your +instructions I put the liquid assets into Government bonds. Interest, +even on Government bonds, has a way of working while you sleep. Then, +you may remember, we were carrying a large load of certain steel stocks. +These I did not dispose of at once, with the result that they, in +themselves, have made you a comfortable fortune.” + +“I suppose I should thank you for your foresight, Murdoch. I was rather +hoping you would lose my money and so relieve me of an embarrassing +situation. What am I to do with it?” + +“I don’t know, sir, but I feel sure you will use it for some good +purpose. I was glad to get as much of it together for you as I did, +because otherwise it might have fallen to people who would have wasted +it.” + +“Upon my word, Murdoch, that smacks of my own philosophy. Is it possible +even you are becoming converted?” + +“Come, Mr. Grant; come, everybody!” a cheerful voice called from behind +the sliding doors which shut off the dining-room. The fragrant smell of +coffee was already in the air, and as Grant took his seat Mrs. +Murdoch declared that for once she had decided to defy all the laws of +digestion. + +At the table their talk dribbled out into thin channels. It was as +though there were at hand a great reservoir of thought, of experience, +of deep gropings into the very well-springs of life, which none of them +dared to tap lest it should rush out and overwhelm them. They seemed in +some strange awe of its presence, and spoke, when they spoke at all, of +trivial things. Grant proved uncommunicative, and perhaps, in a sense, +disappointing. He preferred to forget both the glories and the horrors +of war; when he drew on his experience at all it was to relate some +humorous incident. That, it seemed, was all he cared to remember. He +was conscious of a restraint which hedged him about and hampered every +mental deployment. + +Phyllis, too, must have been conscious of that restraint, for before +they parted she said something about human minds being like pianos, +which get out of tune for lack of the master-touch.... + +When Grant found himself in the street air again he was almost swallowed +up in the rush of things which he might have said. His mental machinery, +which seemed to have been out of mesh,--came back into adjustment with +a jerk. He suddenly discovered that he could think; he could drive his +mind from his own batteries. In soldiering the mind is driven from the +batteries of the rank higher up. The business of discipline is to make +man an automatic machine rather than a thinking individual. It seemed +to Grant that in that moment the machine part of him gave way and the +individual was restored. In his case the change came in a moment; he had +been re-tuned; he was able to think logically in terms of civil life. +He pieced together Murdoch’s conversation. “Not as a jump,” Murdoch had +said, when he had argued that a man cannot emerge in a moment from the +psychology of the trenches to that of the counting-house. Undoubtedly +that would be true of the mass; they would experience no instantaneous +readjustment.... + +There are moments when the mind, highly vitalized, reaches out into the +universe of thought and grasps ideas far beyond its conscious intention. +All great thoughts come from uncharted sources of inspiration, and it +may be that the function of the mind is not to create thought, but +only to record it. To do so it must be tuned to the proper key of +receptivity. Grant had a consciousness, as he walked along the deserted +streets toward his hotel, that he was in that key; the quietness, the +domesticity of Murdoch’s home, the loveliness of Phyllis Bruce, had, +for the moment at least, shut out a background of horror and lifted his +thought into an exalted plane. He paused at a bridge to lean against the +railing and watch the trembling reflection of city lights in the river. + +“I have it!” he suddenly exclaimed to the steel railing. “I have it!” + +He paused for a moment to turn over his thought, as though to make sure +it should not escape. Then, at a pace which aroused the wondering glance +of one or two placid policemen, he hurried to the hotel. + +Linder and Grant had been assigned to the same room, and the sergeant’s +dreams, if he dreamt at all, were of the sweet hay meadows of the West. +Grant turned on the light and looked down into the face of his friend. +A smile, born of fields afar from war’s alarms, was playing about his +lips. Even in his excitement Grant could not help reflecting what a +wonderful thing it is to sleep in peace. Then-- + +“I have it!” he shouted. “Linder, I have it!” + +The sergeant sat up with a start, blinking. + +“I have it!” Grant repeated. + +“THEM, you mean,” said Linder, suddenly awake. “Why, man, what’s wrong +with you? You’re more excited than if we were just going over the top.” + +“I’ve got my great idea. I know what I’m going to do with my money.” + +“Well, don’t do it to-night,” Linder protested. “Someone has to settle +for this dug-out in the morning.” + +“We’re leaving for the West to-morrow, Linder, old scout. Everybody +will say we’re crazy, but that’s a good sign. They’ve said that of every +reformer since--” + +But Linder was again sleeping the sleep of a man four years in France. + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The window was grey with the light of dawn before Grant’s mind had +calmed down enough for sleep. When Linder awoke him it was noon. + +“You sleep well on your Big Idea,” was his comment. + +“No better than you did last night,” retorted Grant, springing out of +bed. “Let me see.... yes, I still have it clearly. I’ll tell you about +it sometime, if you can stay awake. When do we eat?” + +“Now, or as soon as you are presentable. I’ve a notion to give you three +days’ C.B. for appearing on parade in your pyjamas.” + +“Make it a cash fine, Sergeant, old dear, and pay it out of what you owe +me. Now that that is settled order up a decent meal. I’ll be shaved and +dressed long before it arrives. You know this is a first-class hotel, +where prompt service would not be tolerated.” + +As they ate together Grant showed no disposition to discuss what Linder +called his Big Idea, nor yet to give any satisfaction in response to his +companion’s somewhat pointed references as to his doings of the night +before. + +“There are times, Linder,” he said, “when my soul craves solitude. You, +being a sergeant, and therefore having no soul, will not be able to +understand that longing for contemplation--” + +“It’s all right,” said Linder. “I don’t want her.” + +“Furthermore,” Grant continued, “to-night I mean to resume my +soliloquies, and your absence will be much in demand.” + +“The supply will be equal to the demand.” + +“Good! Here are some morsels of money. If you will buy our railway +tickets and settle with the chief extortionist downstairs I will join +you at the night train going west.” + +Linder sprang to attention, gave a salute in which mock deference +could not entirely obscure the respect beneath, and set about on his +commissions, while Grant devoted the afternoon to a session with Murdoch +and Jones, to neither of whom would he reveal his plans further than to +say he was going west “to engage in some development work.” During the +afternoon it was noted that Grant’s interest centred more in a certain +telephone call than in the very gratifying financial statement which +Murdoch was able to place before him. And it was probably as a result +of that telephone call that a taxi drew up in front of Murdoch’s home +at exactly six-thirty that evening and bore Miss Phyllis Bruce and an +officer wearing a captain’s uniform in the direction of the best hotel +in the city. + +The dining-room was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and soft strains +of music stole vagrantly about its high arching pillars, mingling +with the chatter of lovely women and of men to whom expense was no +consideration. Grant was conscious of a delicious sense of intimacy +as he helped Phyllis remove her wraps and seated himself by her at a +secluded corner table. + +“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “I don’t make compliments for exercise, but you +do look stunning to-night!” + +A warmth of color lit up her cheek--he had noticed at Murdoch’s how pale +she was--and her eyes laughed back at him with some of their old-time +vivacity. + +“I am so glad,” she said. “It seems almost like old times--” + +They gave their orders, and sat in silence through an overture. Grant +was delighting himself simply in her presence, and guessed that for her +part she could not retract the confession her love had wrung from her so +long ago. + +“There are some things which don’t change, Phyllis,” he said, when the +orchestra had ceased. + +She looked back at him with eyes moist and dreamy. “I know,” she +murmured. + +There seemed no reason why Grant should not there and then have laid +himself, figuratively, at her feet. And there was not any reason--only +one. He wanted first to go west. He almost hoped that out there +some light of disillusionment would fall about him; that some sudden +experience such as he had known the night before would readjust his +personality in accordance with the inevitable... + +“I asked you to dine with me to-night,” he heard himself saying, “for +two reasons: first, for the delight of your exquisite companionship; and +second, because I want to place before you certain business plans which, +to me at least, are of the greatest importance. + +“You know the position which I have taken with regard to the spending of +money, that one should not spend on himself or his friends anything +but his own honest earnings for which he has given honest service to +society. I have seen no reason to change my position. On the contrary +the war has strengthened me in my convictions. It has brought home to +me and to the world the fact that heroism is a flower which grows in no +peculiar soil, and that it blossoms as richly among the unwashed and the +underfed as among the children of fortune. This fact only aggravates +the extremes of wealth and poverty, and makes them seem more unjust than +ever. + +“For myself I have accepted this view, but our financial system is +founded upon very different ethics. I wonder if you have ever thought +of the fact that when the barons at Runnymede laid the foundations of +democratic government for the world they overlooked the almost equally +important matter of creating a democratic system of finance. Well--let’s +not delve into that now. The point is that under our present system we +do acquire wealth which we do not earn, and the only thing to be done +for the time being is to treat that wealth as a trust to be managed for +the benefit of humanity. That is what I call the new morality as applied +to money, although it is not so new either. It can be traced back at +least nineteen hundred years, and all our philanthropists, great and +little, have surely caught some glimpse of that truth, unless, perhaps, +they gave their alms that they might have honor of men. But giving one’s +money away does not solve the problem; it pauperizes the recipient and +delays the evolution of new conditions in which present injustices would +be corrected. I hope you are able to follow me?” + +“Perfectly. It is easy for me, who have nothing to lose, to follow your +logic. You will have more trouble convincing those whose pockets it +would affect.” + +“I am not so sure of that. Humanity is pretty sound at heart, but we +can’t abandon the boat we’re on until we have another that is proven +seaworthy. However, it seems to me that I have found a solution which +I can apply in my individual case. Have you thought what are the three +greatest needs, commercially speaking, of the present day?” + +“Production, I suppose, is the first.” + +“Yes--most particularly production of food. And the others are corollary +to it. They are instruction and opportunity. I am thinking especially of +returned men.” + +“Production--instruction--opportunity,” she repeated. “How are you going +to bring them about?” + +“That is my Big Idea, as Linder calls it, although I have not yet +confided in him what it is. Well--the world is crying for food, and in +our western provinces are millions of acres which have never felt the +plow--” + +“In the East, too, for that matter.” + +“I know, but I naturally think of the West. I propose to form a company +and buy a large block of land, cut it up into farms, build houses and +community centres, and put returned men and their families on these +farms, under the direction of specialists in agriculture. I shall break +up the rectangular survey of the West for something with humanizing +possibilities; I mean to supplant it with a system of survey which will +permit of settlement in groups--villages, if you like--where I shall +instal all the modern conveniences of the city, including movie shows. +Our statesmen are never done lamenting that population continues to flow +from the country to the city, but the only way to stop that flow is to +make the country the more attractive of the two.” + +“But your company--who are to be the shareholders?” + +“That is the keystone of the Big Idea. There never before was a company +like this will be. In the first place, I shall put up all the money +myself. Then, when I have prepared a farm ready to receive a man and his +family, I will sell him shares equivalent to the value of his farm, +and give him a perpetual lease, subject to certain restrictions. Let +me illustrate. Suppose you are the prospective shareholder. I say, Miss +Bruce, I can place you on a farm worth, with buildings and equipment, +ten thousand dollars. I do not ask any cash from you; not a cent, but I +want you to subscribe for ten thousand dollars stock in my company. That +will make you a shareholder. When the farm begins to produce you are +to have all you and your family--this is an illustration, you know--can +consume for your own use. The balance is to be sold, and one-third of +the proceeds is to be paid into the treasury of the company and credited +on your purchase of shares. When you have paid for all your shares in +this way you will have no further payments to make, except such levy as +may be made by the company for running expenses. You, as a shareholder +of the company, will have a voice with the other shareholders in +determining what that levy shall be. You and your descendents will be +allowed possession of that farm forever, subject only to your obeying +the rules of the company. You--” + +“But why the company? It simply amounts to buying the land on payments +to be made out of each year’s crop, except that you want me to pay for +shares in the company instead of for the land itself.” + +“That, as I told you, is the keystone of my Big Idea. If I sold you the +land you would be master of it; you could do as you liked with it. You +could let it lie idle; you could allow your buildings and machinery +to get out of repair; you could keep scrub stock; all your methods of +husbandry might be slovenly or antiquated; you could even rent or sell +the land to someone who might be morally or socially undesirable in the +community. On the other hand you might be peculiarly successful, when +you would proceed to buy out your less successful neighbors, or make +loans on their land, and thus create yourself a land monopolist. But as +a shareholder in the company you will be subject to the rules laid down +by the company. If it says that houses must be painted every four years +you will paint your house every fourth year. If it rules that hayracks +are not to be left on the front lawn you will have to deposit yours +somewhere else. If it orders that crops must be rotated to preserve the +fertility of the soil you will obey those instructions. If you do +not like the regulations you can use your influence with the board of +directors to have them changed. If you fail there you can sell your +shares to someone else--provided you can find a purchaser acceptable to +the board--and get out. The Big Idea is that the community--the company +in this case--shall control the individual, and the individual shall +exert his proper measure of control over the community. The two are +interlocked and interdependent, each exerting exactly the proper amount +of power and accepting proportionate responsibility.” + +“But have you provided against the possibility of one man or a group of +men buying up a majority of the stock and so controlling the company? +They could then freeze out the smaller owners.” + +“Yes,” said Grant, toying with his coffee, “I have made a provision for +that which I think is rather ingenious. Don’t imagine that this all came +to me in a moment. The central thought struck me last night on my way +home, and I knew then I had the embryo of the plan, but I lay awake +until daylight working out details. I am going to allot votes on a very +unique principle. It seems to me that a man’s stake in a country should +be measured, not by the amount of money he has, but by the number of +mouths he has to feed. I will adopt that rule in my company, and the +voting will be according to the number of children in the family. That +should curb the ambitious.” + +They laughed over this proviso, and Phyllis agreed that it was all a +very wonderful plan. “And when they have paid for all their shares you +get your money back,” she commented. + +“Oh, no. I don’t want my money back. I didn’t explain that to you. I +will advance the money on the bonds of the company, without interest. +Suppose I am able to finance a hundred farms that way, then as the +payments come in, still more farms. The thing will spread like a ripple +in a pool, until it covers the whole country. When you turn a sum of +money loose, WITH NO INTEREST CHARGE ATTACHED TO IT, there is no limit +to what it can accomplish.” + +“But what will you do with your bonds, eventually? They will be +perfectly secured. I don’t see that you are getting rid of your money at +all, except the interest, which you are giving away.” + +“That, Phyllis, is where autocracy and democracy meet. All progress is +like the swinging of a pendulum, with autocracy at one end of the arc +and democracy at the other, and progress is the mean of their opposing +forces. But there are times when the most democratic countries have to +use autocratic methods, as, for example, Great Britain and the United +States in the late war. We must learn to make autocracy the servant of +democracy, not its enemy. Well--I’m going to be the autocrat in this +case. I am going to sit behind the scenes and as long as my company +functions all right I will leave it alone, but if it shows signs of +wrecking itself I will assume the role of the benevolent despot and set +it to rights again. Oh, Phyllis, don’t you see? It’s not just MY company +I’m thinking about. This is an experiment, in which my company will +represent the State. If it succeeds I shall turn the whole machinery +over to the State as my contribution to the betterment of humanity. If +it fails--well, then I shall have demonstrated that the idea is unsound. +Even that is worth something. + +“I like to think of the great inventors, experimenting with the +mysterious forces of nature. Their business is to find the natural laws +that govern material things. And I am quite sure that there are +also natural laws designed to govern man in his social and economic +relationships, and when those laws have been discovered the +impossibilities of to-day will become the common practice of to-morrow, +just as steam and electricity have made the impossibilities of yesterday +the common practice of to-day. The first need is to find the law, and to +what more worthy purpose could a man devote himself? When I landed here +yesterday--when I walked again through these old streets--I was a being +without purpose; I was like a battery that had dried up. All these petty +affairs of life seemed so useless, so humdrum, so commonplace, I knew I +could never settle down to them again. Then last night from some unknown +source came a new idea--an inspiration--and presto! the battery is +re-charged, life again has its purposes, and I am eager to be at work. + +“I said ‘some unknown source,’ but it was not altogether unknown. It +had something to do with honest old Murdoch, and his good wife pouring +coffee for the midnight supper in their cozy dining-room, and Phyllis +Bruce across the table! We never know, Phyllis, how much we owe to our +friends; to that charmed circle, be it ever so small, in which every +note strikes in harmony. I know my Big Idea is only playing on the +surface; only skimming about the edges. What the world needs is just +friends.” + +Grant had talked himself out, but he continued to sit at the little +table, reveling in the happiness of a man who feels that he has been +called to some purpose worth while. His companion hesitated to interrupt +his thoughts; her somewhat drab business experience made her pessimistic +toward all idealism, and yet she felt that here, surely, was a man who +could carry almost any project through to success. The unique quality in +him, which distinguished him from any other man she had ever known, was +his complete unselfishness. In all his undertakings he coveted no reward +for himself; he was seeking only the common good. + +“If all men were like you there would be no problems,” she murmured, +and while he could not accept the words quite at par they rang very +pleasantly in his ears. + +A movement among the diners reminded him of the flight of time, and +with a glance at his watch he sprang up in surprise. “I had no idea the +evening had gone!” he exclaimed. “I have just time to see you home and +get back to catch my train.” + +He called a taxi and accompanied her into it. They seated themselves +together, and the fragrance of her presence was very sweet about him. +It would have been so easy to forget--all that he had been trying to +forget--in the intoxication of such environment. Surely it was not +necessary that he should go west--that he should see HER again--in order +to be sure. + +“Phyllis,” he breathed, “do you imagine I could undertake these things +if I cared only for myself--if it were not that I longed for someone’s +approval--for someone to be proud of me? The strongest man is weak +enough for that, and the strongest man is stronger when he knows that +the woman he loves--” + +He would have taken her in his arms, but she resisted, gently, firmly. + +“You have made me think too much of you, Dennison,” she whispered. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +On the way west Grant gradually unfolded his plan to Linder, who +accepted it with his customary stoicism. + +“I’m not very strong for a scheme that hasn’t got any profits in it,” + Linder confessed. “It doesn’t sound human.” + +“I don’t notice that you have ever figured very high in profits on your +own account,” Grant retorted. “Your usefulness has been in making them +for other people. I suppose if I would let you help to swell my bank +account you would work for me for board and lodging, but as I refuse +to do that I shall have to pay you three times Transley’s rate. I don’t +know what he paid you, but I suspect that for every dollar you earned +for yourself you earned two for him, so I am going to base your scale +accordingly. You are to go on with the physical work at once; buy the +horses, tractors, machinery; break up the land, fence it, build the +houses and barns; in short, you are to superintend everything that is +done with muscle or its substitute. I will bring Murdoch out shortly to +take charge of the clerical details and the general organization. As for +myself, after I have bought the land and placed the necessary funds to +the credit of the company I propose to keep out of the limelight. I will +be the heart of the undertaking; Murdoch will be the head, and you +are to be the hands, and I hope you two conspirators won’t give me +palpitation. You think it a mistake to work without profits, but Murdoch +thinks it a sin. When I lay my plans before him I am quite prepared to +hear him insist upon calling in an alienist.” + +“It’s YOUR money,” Linder assented, laconically. “What are YOU going to +do?” + +“I’m going to buy a half section of my own, and I’m going to start +myself on it on identically the same terms that I offer to the +shareholders in my company. I want to prove by my own experience that +it can be done, but I must keep away from the company. Human nature is +a clinging vine at best, and I don’t want it clinging about me. You +will notice that my plan, unlike most communistic or socialist ventures, +relieves the individual of no atom of responsibility. I give him the +opportunity, but I put it up to him to make good with that opportunity. +I have not overlooked the fact that a man is a man, and never can be +made quite into a machine.” + +The two friends discussed at great length the details of the Big +Idea, and upon arrival in the West Linder lost no time in preparing +blue-prints and charts descriptive of the improvements to be made on the +land and the order in which the work was to be carried on. Grant bought +a tract suitable to his purpose, and the wheels of the machine which +was to blaze a path for the State were set in motion. When this had been +done Grant turned to the working out of his own individual experiment. + +During the period in which these arrangements were being made it was +inevitable that Grant should have heard more or less of Transley. He had +not gone out of his way to seek information of the contractor, but it +rather had been forced upon him. Transley’s name was frequently heard in +the offices of the business men with whom he had to do; it was +mentioned in local papers with the regularity peculiar to celebrities in +comparatively small centres. Transley, it appeared, had become something +of a power in the land. Backed by old Y.D.’s capital he had carried some +rather daring ventures through to success. He had seized the panicky +moments following the outbreak of the war to buy heavily on the wheat +and cattle markets, and increases in prices due to the world’s demand +for food had made him one of the wealthy men of the city. The desire of +many young farmers to enlist had also afforded an opportunity to acquire +their holdings for small considerations, and Transley had proved his +patriotism by facilitating the ambitions of as many men in this position +as came to his attention. The fact that even before the war ended the +farms which he acquired in this way were worth several times the price +he paid was only an incident in the transactions. + +But no word of Transley’s domestic affairs reached Grant, who told +himself that he had ceased to be interested in them, but kept an alert +ear nevertheless. It would seem that Transley rather eclipsed his wife +in the public eye. + +So Grant set about with the development of his own farm, and kept his +mind occupied with it and with his larger experiment--except when it +went flirting with thoughts of Phyllis Bruce. He was rather proud of +the figure he had used to Linder, of the head, hands, and heart of +his organization, but to himself he admitted that that figure was +incomplete. There was a soul as well, and that soul was the girl whose +inspiring presence had in some way jerked his mind out of the stagnant +backwaters in which the war had left it. There was no doubt of that. He +had written to Murdoch to come west and undertake new work for him. He +had intimated that the change would be permanent, and that it might be +well to bring the family.... + +He selected a farm where a ridge of foothills overlooked a broad valley +receding into the mountains. The dealer had no idea of selling him this +particular piece of land; they were bound for a half section farther up +the slope when Grant stopped on the brow of the hill to feast his +eyes on the scene that lay before him. It burst upon him with the +unexpectedness peculiar to the foothill valleys; miles of gently +undulating plain, lying apparently far below, but in reality rising in +a sharp ascent toward the snow-capped mountains looking down silently +through their gauze of blue-purple afternoon mist. At distances which +even his trained eye would not attempt to compute lay little round lakes +like silver coins on the surface of the prairie; here and there were +dark green bluffs of spruce; to the right a ribbon of river, blue-green +save where the rapids churned it white, and along its edge a fringe of +leafy cottonwoods; at vast intervals square black plots of plowed land +like sections on a chess-board of the gods, and farm buildings cut so +clear in the mountain atmosphere that the sense of space was lost and +they seemed like child-houses just across the way. + +Grant turned to his companion with an animation in his face which almost +startled the prosaic dealer in real estate. + +“Wonderful! Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “We don’t need to go any farther +if you can sell me this.” + +“Sure I can sell you this,” said the dealer, looking at him somewhat +queerly. “That is, if you want it. I thought you were looking for a +wheat farm.” + +The man’s total lack of appreciation irritated Grant unreasonably. +“Wheat makes good hog fodder,” he retorted, “but sunsets keep alive the +soul. What is the price?” + +Again the dealer gave him a queer sidelong look, and made as though to +argue with him, then suddenly seemed to change his purpose. Perhaps he +reflected that strange things happened to the boys overseas. + +“I’ll get you the price in town,” he said. “You are sure it will suit?” + +“Suit? No king in Christendom has his palace on a site like this. I’d go +round the world for it.” + +“You’re the doctor,” said the dealer, turning his car. + +Grant completed the purchase, ordered lumber for a house and barn, and +engaged a carpenter to superintend the construction. It was one of his +whims that he would do most of the work himself. + +“I guess I’m rather a man of whims,” he reflected, as he stood on +the brow of the hill where the material for his buildings had been +delivered. “It was a whim which first brought me west, and a whim which +has brought me west again. I have a whim about my money, a whim about my +farm, a whim about my buildings. I do not do as other people do, which +is the unpardonable sin. To Linder I am a jester, to Murdoch a fanatic, +to our friend the real estate dealer a fool; I even noticed my honest +carpenter trying to ask me something about shell shock! Well--they’re MY +whims, and I get an immense amount of satisfaction out of them.” + +The days that followed were the happiest Grant had known since +childhood. The carpenter, a thin, twisted man, bowed with much labor at +the bench, and answering to the name Peter, sold his services by the day +and manifested a sympathy amounting to an indulgence toward the whims of +his employer. So long as the wages were sure Peter cared not whether the +house was finished this year or next--or not at all. He enjoyed Grant’s +cooking in the temporary work-shed they had built; he enjoyed Grant’s +stories of funny incidents of the war which would crop out at unexpected +moments, and which were always good for a new pipe and a few minutes’ +rest; he even essayed certain flights of his own, which showed that +Peter was a creature not entirely without humor. He developed an +appreciation of scenery; he would stand for long intervals gazing across +the valley. Grant was not deceived by these little devices, but he never +took Peter to task for his loitering. He was prepared almost to suspend +his rule that money must not be paid except for service rendered. “If +the old dodger isn’t quite paying his way now, no doubt he has more than +paid it many times in the past,” he mused. “This is an occasion upon +which to temper justice with mercy.” + +But it was in the planning and building of the house he found his real +delight. He laid it out on very modest lines, as became the amount of +money he was prepared to spend. It was to be a single-story bungalow, +with veranda round the south and west. The living-room ran across the +south side; into its east wall he built a capacious fireplace, with +narrow slits of windows to right and left, and in the western wall were +deep French windows commanding the magic of the view across the valley. +The dining-room, too, faced to the west, with more French windows to let +in sun and soul. The kitchen was to the east, and off the kitchen lay +Grant’s bedroom, facing also to the east, as becomes a man who rises +early for his day’s labors. And then facing the west, and opening off +the dining-room, was what he was pleased to call his whim-room. + +The idea of the whim-room came upon him as he was working out plans on +the smooth side of a board, and thinking about things in general, and +a good deal about Phyllis Bruce, and wondering if he should ever run +across Zen Transley. It struck him all of a sudden, as had the Big Idea +that night when he was on his way home from Murdoch’s house. He worked +it out surreptitiously, not allowing even old Peter to see it until +he had made it into his plan, and then he described it just as the +whim-room. But it was to be by all means the best room in the house; +special finishing and flooring lumber were to be bought for it; the +fireplace had to be done in a peculiarly delicate tile; the French +windows must be high and wide and of the most brilliant transparency.... + +The ring of the saw, the trill of the plane, the thwack of the hammer, +were very pleasant music in his ears. Day by day he watched his dwelling +grow with the infinite joy of creating, and night after night he crept +with Peter into the work-shed and slept the sleep of a man tired +and contented. In the long summer evenings the sunlight hung like a +champagne curtain over the mountains even after bedtime, and Grant had +to cut a hole in the wall of the shed that he might watch the dying +colors of the day fade from crimson to purple to blue on the tassels of +cloud-wraith floating in the western sky. At times Linder and Murdoch +would visit him to report progress on the Big Idea, and the three would +sit on a bench in the half-built house, sweet with the fragrance of new +sawdust, and smoke placidly while they determined matters of policy or +administration. It had been something of a disappointment to Grant that +Murdoch had not considered Phyllis Bruce one of “the family.” He had +left her, regretfully, in the East, but had made provision that she was +still to have her room in the old Murdoch home. + +“Phyllis would have come west, and gladly, if I could have promised +her a position,” Murdoch explained, “but I could not do that, as I knew +nothing of your plans, and a girl can’t afford to trifle with her job +these days, Mr. Grant.” + +And Grant said nothing, but he thought of his whim-room, and smiled. + +Grant was almost sorry when the house was finished. “There’s so much +more enjoyment in doing things than in merely possessing them after +they’re done,” he philosophized to Linder. “I think that must be the +secret of the peculiar fascination of the West. The East, with all its +culture and conveniences and beauty, can never win a heart which has +once known the West. That is because in the East all the obvious things +are done, but in the West they are still to do.” + +“You should worry,” said Linder. “You still have the plowing.” + +“Yes, and as soon as the stable is finished I am going to buy four +horses and get to work.” + +“I supposed you would use a tractor.” + +“Not this time. I can admire a piece of machinery, but I can’t love it. +I can love horses.” + +“You’ll be housing them in the whim-room,” Linder remarked dryly, and +had to jump to escape the hammer which his chief shied at him. + +But the plowing was really a great experience. Grant had an eye +for horse-flesh, and the four dapple-greys which pressed their fine +shoulders into the harness of his breaking plow might have delighted +the heart of any teamster. As he sat on his steel seat and watched the +colter cut the firm sod with brittle cracking sound as it snapped the +tough roots of the wild roses, or looking back saw the regular terraces +of shiny black mould which marked his progress, he felt that he was +engaged in a rite of almost sacramental significance. + +“To take a substance straight from the hand of the Creator and be the +first in all the world to impose a human will upon it is surely an +occasion for solemnity and thanksgiving,” he soliloquized. “How can +anyone be so gross as to see only materialism in such work as this? +Surely it has something of fundamental religion in it! Just as from the +soil springs all physical life, may it not be that deep down in the soil +are, some way, the roots of the spiritual? The soil feeds the city in +two ways; it fills its belly with material food, and it is continually +re-vitalizing its spirit with fresh streams of energy which can come +only from the land. Up from the soil comes all life, all progress, all +development--” + +At that moment Grant’s plowshare struck a submerged boulder, and he was +dumped precipitately into that element which he had been so generously +apostrophizing. The well-trained horses came to a stop as he gathered +himself up, none the worse, and regained his seat. + +“That WAS a spill,” he commented. “Ditched not only myself, but my whole +train of thought. Never mind; perhaps I was dangerously close to the +development of a new whim, and I am well supplied in that particular +already. Hello, whom have we here?” + +The horses had come to a stop a short distance before the end of the +furrow, and Grant, glancing ahead, saw immediately in front of them a +little chap of four or five obstructing the way. He stood astride of +the furrow with widespread legs bridging the distance from the virgin +prairie to the upturned sod. He was hatless, and curls of silky yellow +hair fell about his round, bright face. His hands were stuck obtrusively +in his trouser pockets. + +“Well, son, what’s the news?” said Grant, when the two had measured each +other for a moment. + +“I got braces,” the boy replied proudly. “Don’t you see?” + +“Why, so you have!” Grant exclaimed. “Come around here until I see them +better.” + +So encouraged, the little chap came skipping around the horses, and +exhibited his braces for Grant’s admiration. But he had already become +interested in another subject. + +“Are these your horses?” he demanded. + +“Yes.” + +“Will they bite?” + +“Why, no, I don’t believe they would. They have been very well brought +up.” + +“What do you call them?” + +“This one is Prince, on the left, and the others are Queen, and King, +and Knave. I call him Knave because he’s always scheming, trying to get +out of his share of the work, and I make him walk on the plowed land, +too.” + +“That serves him right,” the boy declared. “What’s your name?” + +“Why--what’s yours?” + +“Wilson.” + +“Wilson what?” + +“Just Wilson.” + +“What does your mother call you?” + +“Just Wilson. Sometimes daddy calls me Bill.” + +“Oh!” + +“What’s your name?” + +“Call me The Man on the Hill.” + +“Do you live on the hill?” + +“Yes.” + +“Is that your house?” + +“Yes.” + +“Did you make it?” + +“Yes.” + +“All yourself?” + +“No. Peter helped me.” + +“Who’s Peter?” + +“He is the man who helped me.” + +“Oh!” + +These credentials exchanged, the boy fell silent, while Grant looked +down upon him with a whimsical admixture of humor and tenderness. +Suddenly, without a word, the boy dashed as fast as his legs could carry +him to the end of the field, and plunged into a clump of bushes. In a +moment he emerged with something brown and chubby in his arms. + +“He’s my teddy,” he said to Grant. “He was watching in the bushes to see +if you were a nice man.” + +“And am I?” Grant was tempted to ask. + +“Yes.” There was no evasion about Wilson. He approved of his new +acquaintance, and said so. + +“Let us give teddy a ride on Prince?” + +“Let’s!” + +Grant carefully arranged teddy on the horse’s hames, and the boy clapped +his hands with delight. + +“Now let us all go for a ride. You will sit on my knee, and teddy will +drive Prince.” + +He took the boy carefully on his knee, driving with one hand and holding +him in place with the other. The little body resting confidently against +his side was a new experience for Grant. + +“We must drive carefully,” he remarked. “Here and there are big stones +hidden in the grass. If we were to hit one it might dump us off.” + +The little chap chuckled. “Nothing could dump you off,” he said. + +Grant reflected that such implicit and unwarranted confidence implied a +great responsibility, and he drove with corresponding care. A mishap now +might nip this very delightful little bud of hero-worship. + +They turned the end of the furrow with a fine jingle of loose +trace-chains, and Prince trotted a little on account of being on the +outer edge of the semicircle. The boy clapped his hands again as teddy +bounced up and down on the great shoulders. + +“Have you a little boy?” he asked, when they were started again. + +“Why, no,” Grant confessed, laughing at the question. + +“Why?” + +There was no evading this childish inquisitor. He had a way of pursuing +a subject to bedrock. + +“Well, you see, I’ve no wife.” + +“No mother?” + +“No--no wife. You see--” + +“But I have a mother--” + +“Of course, and she is your daddy’s wife. You see they have to have +that--” + +Grant found himself getting into deep water, but the sharp little +intellect had cut a corner and was now ahead of him. + +“Then I’ll be your little boy,” he said, and, clambering up to Grant’s +shoulder pressed a kiss on his cheek. In a sudden burst of emotion Grant +brought his team to a stop and clasped the little fellow in both his +arms. For a moment everything seemed misty. + +“And I have lived to be thirty-two years old and have never known what +this meant,” he said to himself. + +“Daddy’s hardly ever home, anyway,” the boy added, naively. + +“Where is your home?” + +“Down beside the river. We live there in summer.” + +And so the conversation continued and the acquaintanceship grew as man +and boy plied back and forth on their mile-long furrow. At length +it occurred to Grant that he should send Wilson home; the boy’s long +absence might be occasioning some uneasiness. They stopped at the end +of the field and carefully removed teddy from his place of prestige, +but just at that moment a horsefly buzzing about caused Prince to stamp +impatiently, and the big hoof came down on the boy’s foot. Wilson sent +up a cry proportionate to the possibilities of the occasion, and Grant +in alarm tore off the boot and stocking. Fortunately the soil had been +soft, and the only damage done was a slight bruise across the upper part +of the foot. + +“There, there,” said Grant, soothingly, caressing the injury with his +fingers. “It will be all right in a minute. Prince didn’t mean to do it, +and besides, I’ve seen much worse than that at the war.” + +At the mention of war the boy suspended a cry half uttered. + +“Were you at the war?” he demanded. + +“Yes.” + +“Did you kill a German?” + +“I’ve seen a German killed,” said Grant, evading a question which no +soldier cares to discuss. + +“Did you kill ‘em in the tummy?” the boy persisted. + +“We’ll talk about that to-morrow. Now you hop up on to my shoulders, and +I’ll tie the horses and then carry you home.” + +He followed the boy’s directions until they led him to a path running +among pleasant trees down by the river. Presently he caught a glimpse +of a cottage in a little open space, its brown shingled walls almost +smothered in a riot of sweet peas. + +“That’s our house. Don’t you like it?” said the boy, who had already +forgotten his injury. + +“I think it is splendid.” And Grant, taking his young charge from his +shoulder, stepped up on to the porch and knocked at the screen door. + +In a moment it was opened by Zen Transley. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Sitting on his veranda that evening while the sun dropped low over the +mountains and the sound of horses munching contentedly came up from the +stables, Grant for the twentieth time turned over in his mind the events +of a day that was to stand out as an epochal one in his career. The +meeting with the little boy and the quick friendship and confidence +which had been formed between them; the mishap, and the trip to the +house by the river--these were logical and easily followed. But why, of +all the houses in the world, should it have been Zen Transley’s house? +Why, of all the little boys in the world, should this have been the son +of his rival and the only girl he had ever--the girl he had loved most +in all his life? Surely events are ordered to some purpose; surely +everything is not mere haphazard chance! The fatalism of the trenches +forbade any other conclusion; and if this was so, why had he been thrown +into the orbit of Zen Transley? He had not sought her; he had not dreamt +of her once in all that morning while her child was winding innocent +tendrils of affection about his heart. And yet--how the boy had gripped +him! Could it be that in some way he was a small incarnation of the Zen +of the Y.D., with all her clamorous passion expressed now in childish +love and hero-worship? Had some intelligence above his own guided him +into this environment, deliberately inviting him to defy conventions +and blaze a path of broader freedom for himself, and for her? These were +questions he wrestled with as the shadows crept down the mountain slopes +and along the valley at his feet. + +For neither Zen nor himself had connived at the situation which had +made them, of all the people in the world, near neighbors in this silent +valley. Her surprise on meeting him at the door had been as genuine as +his. When she had made sure that the boy was not seriously hurt she had +turned to him, and instinctively he had known that there are some things +which all the weight of passing years can never crush entirely dead. He +loved to rehearse her words, her gestures, the quick play of sympathetic +emotions as one by one he reviewed them. + +“You! I am surprised--I had not known--” She had become confused in her +greeting, and a color that she would have given worlds to suppress crept +slowly through her cheeks. + +“I am surprised, too--and delighted,” he had returned. “The little boy +came to me in the field, boasting of his braces.” Then they had both +laughed, and she had asked him to come in and tell about himself. + +The living-room, as he recalled it, was marked by the simplicity +appropriate to the summer home, with just a dash of elegance in the +furnishings to suggest that simplicity was a matter of choice and not of +necessity. After soothing Wilson’s sobs, which had broken out afresh in +his mother’s arms, she had turned him over to a maid and drawn a chair +convenient to Grant’s. + +“You see, I am a farmer now,” he had said, apologetically regarding his +overalls. + +“What changes have come! But I don’t understand; I thought you were +rich--very rich--and that you were promoting some kind of settlement +scheme. Frank has spoken of it.” + +“All of which is true. You see, I am a man of whims. I choose to live +joyously. I refuse to fit into a ready-made niche in society. I do what +other people don’t do--mainly for that reason. I have some peculiar +notions--” + +“I know. You told me.” And it was then that their eyes had met and they +had fallen into a momentary silence. + +“But why are you farming?” she had exclaimed, brightly. + +“For several reasons. First, the world needs food. Food is the greatest +safeguard--I would almost say the only safeguard--against anarchy +and chaos. Then, I want to learn by experience; to prove by my own +demonstrations that my theories are workable--or that they’re not. And +then, most of all, I love the prairies and the open life. It’s my whim, +and I follow it.” + +“You are very wonderful,” she had murmured. And then, with startling +directness, “Are you happy?” + +“As happy as I have any right to be. Happier than I have been since +childhood.” + +She had risen and walked to the mantelpiece; then, with an apparent +change of impulse, she had turned and faced him. He had noted that +her figure was rounder than in girlhood, her complexion paler, but the +sunlight still danced in her hair, and her reckless force had given way +to a poise that suggested infinite resources of character. + +“Frank has done well, too,” she had said. + +“So I have heard. I am told that he has done very well indeed.” + +“He has made money, and he is busy and excited over his pursuit of +success--what he calls success. He has given it his life. He thinks of +nothing else--” + +She had stopped suddenly, as though her tongue had trapped her into +saying more than she had intended. + +“What do you think of my summer home?” she had exclaimed, abruptly. +“Come out and admire the sweet peas,” and with a gay little flourish +she had led him into the garden. “They tell me Western flowers have +a brilliance and a fragrance which the East, with all its advantages, +cannot duplicate. Is that true?” + +“I believe it is. The East has greater profusion--more varieties--but +the individual qualities do not seem to be so well developed.” + +“I see you know something of Eastern flowers,” she had said, and he +fancied he had caught a note of banter--or was it inquiry?--in her +voice. Then, with another abrupt change of subject, she had made +him describe his house on the hill. But he had said nothing of the +whim-room. + +“I must go,” he had exclaimed at length. “I left the horses tied in the +field.” + +“So you must. I shall let Wilson visit you frequently, if he is not a +trouble.” + +Then she had chosen a couple of blooms and pinned them on his coat, +laughingly overriding his protest that they consorted poorly with his +costume. And she had shaken hands and said good-bye in the manner of +good friends parting. + +The more Grant thought of it the more was he convinced that in her case, +as in his own, the years had failed to extinguish the spark kindled in +the foothills that night so long ago. He reminded himself continually +that she was Transley’s wife, and even while granting the irrevocability +of that fact he was demanding to know why Fate had created for them both +an atmosphere charged with unspoken possibilities. He had turned her +words over again and again, reflecting upon the abrupt angles her speech +had taken. In their few minutes’ conversation three times she had had +to make a sudden tack to safer subjects. What had she meant by that +reference to Eastern and Western flowers? His answer reminded him how +well he knew. And the confession about her husband, the worshipper of +success--“what he calls success”--how much tragedy lay under those light +words? + +The valley was filled with shadow, and the level rays of the setting sun +fell on the young man’s face and splashed the hill-tops with gold and +saffron as within his heart raged the age-old battle.... But as yet he +felt none of its wounds. He was conscious only of a wholly irrational +delight. + +As the next forenoon passed Grant found himself glancing with increasing +frequency toward the end of the field where the little boy might be +expected to appear. But the day wore on without sign of his young +friend, and the furrows which he had turned so joyously at nine were +dragging leadenly at eleven. He had not thought it possible that a child +could so quickly have won a way to his affections. He fell to wondering +as to the cause of the boy’s absence. Had Zen, after a night’s +reflection, decided that it was wiser not to allow the acquaintance to +develop? Had Transley, returning home, placed his veto upon it? Or--and +his heart paused at this prospect--had the foot been more seriously hurt +than they had supposed? Grant told himself that he must go over that +night and make inquiry. That would be the neighborly thing to do.... + +But early that afternoon his heart was delighted by the sight of a +little figure skipping joyously over the furrows toward him. He had his +hat crumpled in one hand, and his teddy-bear in the other, and his face +was alive with excitement. He was puffing profusely when he pulled up +beside the plow, and Grant stopped the team while he got his breath. + +“My! My! What is the hurry? I see the foot is all better.” + +“We got a pig!” the lad gasped, when he could speak. + +“A pig!” + +“Yessir! A live one, too! He’s awful big. A man brought him in a wagon. +That is why I couldn’t come this morning.” + +Grant treated himself to a humble reflection upon the wisdom of childish +preferments. + +“What are you going to do with him?” + +“Eat him up, I guess. Daddy said there was enough wasted about our house +to keep a pig, so we got one. Aren’t you going to take me up?” + +“Of course. But first we must put teddy in his place.” + +“I’m to go home at five o’clock,” the boy said, when he had got properly +settled. + +The hours slipped by all too quickly, and if the lad’s presence did not +contribute to good plowing, it at least made a cheerful plowman. It was +plain that Zen had sufficient confidence in her farmer neighbor to trust +her boy in his care, and his frequent references to his mother had an +interest for Grant which he could not have analyzed or explained. During +the afternoon the merits of the pig were sung and re-sung, and at last +Wilson, after kissing his friend on the cheek and whispering, “I like +you, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill,” took his teddy-bear under his arm and +plodded homeward. + +The next morning he came again, but mournfully and slow. There were tear +stains on the little round cheeks. + +“Why, son, what had happened?” said Grant, his abundant sympathies +instantly responding. + +“Teddy’s spoiled,” the child sobbed. “I set him--on the side of--the pig +pen, and he fell’d in, and the big pig et him--ate him--up. He didn’t +‘zactly eat him up, either--just kind of chewed him, like.” + +“Well that certainly is too bad. But then, you’re going to eat the pig +some day, so that will square it, won’t it?” + +“I guess it will,” said the boy, brightening. “I never thought of that.” + +“But we must have a teddy for Prince. See, he is looking around, waiting +for it.” Grant folded his coat into the shape of a dummy and set it up +on the hames, and all went merrily again. + +That afternoon, which was Saturday, the boy came thoughtfully and +with an air of much importance. Delving into a pocket he produced an +envelope, somewhat crumpled in transit. It was addressed, “The Man on +the Hill.” + +Grant tore it open eagerly and read this note: + + +“DEAR MAN-ON-THE-HILL,--That is the name Wilson calls you, so perhaps +you will let me use it, too. Frank is to be home to-morrow, and will you +come and have dinner with us at six? My father and mother will be here, +and possibly one or two others. You had a clash with my men-folk once, +but you will find them ready enough to make allowance for, even if they +fail to understand, your point of view. Do come.--ZEN. + +“P.S.--It just occurs to me that your associates in your colonization +scheme may want to claim your time on Sunday. If any of them come out, +bring them along. Our table is an extension one, and its capacity has +never yet been exhausted.” + + +Although Grant’s decision was made at once he took some time for +reflection before writing an acceptance. He was to enter Zen’s house +on her invitation, but under the auspices, so to speak, of husband and +parents. That was eminently proper. Zen was a sensible girl. Then there +was a reference to that ancient squabble in the hay meadow. It was +evidently her plan to see the hatchet buried and friendly relations +established all around. Eminently proper and sensible. + +He turned the sheet over and wrote on the back: + + +“DEAR ZEN,--Delighted to come. May have a couple of friends with me, one +of whom you have seen before. Prepare for an appetite long denied the +joys of home cooking.--D. G.” + + +It was not until after the child had gone home that Grant remembered he +had addressed Transley’s wife by her Christian name. That was the way he +always thought of her, and it slipped on to paper quite naturally. Well, +it couldn’t be helped now. + +Grant unhitched early and hurried to his house and the telephone. In a +few minutes he had Linder on the line. + +“Hello, Linder? I want you to go to a store for me and buy a +teddy-bear.” + +The chuckle at the other end of the line irritated Grant. Linder had a +strange sense of humor. + +“I mean it. A big teddy, with electric eyes, and a deep bass growl, if +they make ‘em that way. The best you can get. Fetch it out to-morrow +afternoon, and come decently dressed, for once. Bring Murdoch along if +you can pry him loose.” + +Grant hung up the receiver. “Stupid chap, Linder, some ways,” he +muttered. “Why shouldn’t I buy a teddy-bear if I want to?” + +Sunday afternoon saw the arrival of Linder and Murdoch, with the largest +teddy the town afforded. “What is the big idea now?” Linder demanded, as +he delivered it into Grant’s hands. + +“It is for a little boy I know who has been bereaved of his first +teddy by the activities of the family pig. You will renew some pleasant +acquaintanceships, Linder. You remember Transley and his wife--Zen, of +the Y.D?” + +“You don’t say! Thanks for that tip about dressing up. I may explain,” + Linder continued, turning to Murdoch, “there was a time when I might +have been an also-ran in the race for Y.D.’s daughter, only Transley +beat me on the getaway.” + +“You!” Grant exclaimed, incredulously. + +“You, too!” Linder returned, a great light dawning. + +“Well, Mr. Grant,” said Murdoch, “I brought you a good cigar, bought at +the company’s expense. It comes out of the organization fund. You must +be sick of those cheap cigars.” + +“Since the war it is nothing but Player’s,” Grant returned, taking +the proffered cigar. “They tell me it has revolutionized the tobacco +business. However, this does smell a bit all right. How goes our +venture, Murdoch? Have I any prospect of being impoverished in a worthy +cause?” + +“None whatever. Your foreman here is spending every dollar in a way +to make you two in spite of your daft notion--begging your pardon, +sir--about not taking profits. The subscribers are coming along for +stock, but fingering it gently, as though they can’t well believe +there’s no catch in it. They say it doesn’t look reasonable, and I tell +them no more it is.” + +“And then they buy it?” + +“Aye, they do. That’s human nature. There’s as many members booked now +as can be accommodated in the first colony. I suppose they reason that +they will be sure of their winter’s housing, anyway.” + +“You don’t seem to have much faith in human nature, Murdoch.” + +“Nor have I. Not in that kind of human nature which is always wanting +something for nothing.” + +Linder’s report was more cheerful. The houses and barns were built and +were now being painted, the plowing was done, and the fences were being +run. By the use of a triangular system of survey twelve farm homes had +been centralized in one little community where a community building +would be erected which would be used as a school in daytime, a +motion-picture house at night, and a church on Sunday. A community +secretary would have his office here, and would have charge of a select +little library of fiction, poetry, biography, and works of reference. +The leading periodicals dealing with farm problems, sociology, and +economics, as well as lighter subjects, would be on file. In connection +with this building would be an assembly-room suitable for dances, +social events, and theatricals, and equipped with a player piano and +concert-size talking machine. Arrangements were being made for a weekly +exchange of records, for a weekly musical evening by artists from +the city, for a semi-monthly vaudeville show, and for Sunday meetings +addressed by the best speakers on the more serious topics of the time. + +“What has surprised me in making these arrangements,” Linder confessed, +“is the comparatively small outlay they involve. The building will cost +no more than many communities spend on school and church which they use +thirty hours a week and three hours a week respectively. This one can be +used one hundred and sixty-eight hours a week, if needed. Lecturers on +many subjects can be had for paying their expenses; in some cases they +are employed by the Government, and will come without cost. Amateur +theatrical companies from the city will be glad to come in return for +an appreciative audience and a dance afterward, with a good fill-up on +solid farm cooking. Even some of the professionals can be had on these +terms. Of course, before long we will produce our own theatricals. + +“Then there is to be a plunge bath big enough to swim in, open to men +and women alternate nights, and to children every day. There will be a +pool-room, card-room, and refreshment buffet; also a quiet little room +for women’s social events, and an emergency hospital ward. I think we +should hire a trained nurse who would not be too dignified to cook and +serve meals when there’s no business doing in the hospital. You know +how everyone gets hankering now and then for a meal from home,--not that +it’s any better, but it’s different. I suppose there are farmer’s wives +who don’t get a meal away from home once a year. I’m going to change all +that, if I have to turn cook myself!” + +“Bully for you, Linder!” said Grant, clapping him on the shoulder. “I +believe you actually are enthusiastic for once.” + +“I understand my orders are to make the country give the city a run for +its money, and I’m going to do it, or break you. If all I’ve mentioned +won’t do it I’ve another great scheme in storage.” + +“Good! What is it?” + +“I am inventing a machine that will make a noise like a trolley-car and +a smell like a sewer. That will add the last touch in city refinements.” + +When the laugh over Linder’s invention had subsided Murdoch broached +another. + +“The office work is becoming pretty heavy, Mr. Grant, and I’m none too +confident in the help I have. Now if I could send for Miss Bruce--” + +“What do you think you should pay her?” + +“I should say she is worth a hundred dollars a month.” + +“Then she must be worth two hundred. Wire her to come and start her at +that figure.” + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Promptly at six Linder drew his automobile up in front of the Transley +summer home with Grant and Murdoch on board. Wilson had been watching, +and rushed down upon them, but before he could clamber up on Grant +a great teddy-bear was thrust into his arms and sent him, wild with +delight, to his mother. + +“Look, mother! Look what The-Man-on-the-Hill brought! See! He has fire +in his eyes!” + +Transley and Y.D. met the guests at the gate. “How do, Grant? Glad to +see you, old man,” said Transley, shaking his hand cordially. “The wife +has had so many good words for you I am almost jealous. What ho, Linder! +By all that’s wonderful! You old prairie dog, why did you never look me +up? I was beginning to think the Boche had got you.” + +Grant introduced Murdoch, and Y.D. received them as cordially as had +Transley. “Glad to see you fellows back,” he exclaimed. “I al’us said +the Western men ‘ud put a crimp in the Kaiser, spite o’ hell an’ high +water!” + +“One thing the war has taught us,” said Grant, modestly, “is that men +are pretty much alike, whether they come from west or east or north or +south. No race has a monopoly of heroism.” + +“Well, come on in,” Transley beckoned, leading the way. “Dinner will be +ready sharp on time twenty minutes late. Not being a married man, Grant, +you will not understand that reckoning. You’ll have to excuse Mrs. +Transley a few minutes; she’s holding down the accelerator in the +kitchen. Come in; I want you to meet Squiggs.” + +Squiggs proved to be a round man with huge round tortoise-shell glasses +and round red face to match. He shook hands with a manner that suggested +that in doing so he was making rather a good fellow of himself. + +“We must have a little lubrication, for Y.D.’s sake,” said Transley, +producing a bottle and glasses. “I suppose it was the dust on the plains +that gave these old cow punchers a thirst which never can be slaked. +These be evil days for the old-timers. Grant?” + +“Not any, thanks.” + +“No? Well, there’s no accounting for tastes. Squiggs?” + +“I’m a lawyer,” said Squiggs, “and as booze is now ultra vires I do +my best to keep it down,” and Mr. Squiggs beamed genially upon his +pleasantry and the full glass in his hand. + +“I take a snort when I want it and I don’t care who knows it,” said Y.D. +“I al’us did, and I reckon I’ll keep on to the finish. It didn’t snuff +me out in my youth and innocence, anyway. Just the same, I’m admittin’ +it’s bad medicine in onskilful hands. Here’s ho!” + +The glasses had just been drained when Mrs. Transley entered the room, +flushed but radiant from a strenuous half hour in the kitchen. + +“Well, here you are!” she exclaimed. “So glad you could come, Mr. Grant. +Why, Mr. Linder! Of all people--This IS a pleasure. And Mr.--?” + +“Mr. Murdoch,” Transley supplied. + +“My chief of staff; the man who persists in keeping me rich,” Grant +elaborated. + +“I mustn’t keep you waiting longer. Dinner is ready. Dad, you are to +carve.” + +“Hanged if I will! I’m a guest here, and I stand on my rights,” Y.D. +exploded. + +“Then you must do it, Frank.” + +“I suppose so,” said Transley, “although all I get out of a meal when +I have to carve is splashing and profanity. You know, Squiggs, I’ve +figured it out that this practice of requiring the nominal head of the +house to carve has come down from the days when there wasn’t usually +enough to go ‘round, and the carver had to make some fine decisions +and, perhaps, maintain them by force. It has no place under modern +civilization.” + +“Except that someone must do it, and it’s about the only household +responsibility man has not been able to evade,” said Mrs. Transley. + +As they entered the dining-room Zen’s mother, whiter and it seemed +even more distinguished by the years, joined them, accompanied by Mrs. +Squiggs, a thin woman much concerned about social status, and the party +was complete. + +Transley managed the carving more skilfully than his protest might have +suggested, and there was a lull in the conversation while the first +demands of appetite were being satisfied. + +“Tell us about your settlement scheme, Mr. Grant,” Mrs. Transley +urged when it seemed necessary to find a topic. “Mr. Grant has quite a +wonderful plan.” + +“Yes, wise us up, old man,” said Transley. “I’ve heard something of it, +but never could see through it.” + +“It’s all very simple,” Grant explained. “I am providing the capital to +start a few families on farms. Instead of lending the money directly to +them I am financing a company in which each farmer must subscribe for +stock to the value of the land he is to occupy. His stock he will pay +for with a part of the proceeds of each year’s crop, until it is paid in +full, when he becomes a paid-up shareholder, subject to no further call +except a levy which may be made for running expenses.” + +“And then your advances are returned to you with interest,” Squiggs +suggested. “A very creditable plan of benefaction; very creditable, +indeed.” + +“No, that is not the idea. In the first place, I am accepting no +interest on my advances, and in the second place the money, when repaid +by the shareholders, will not be returned to me, but will be used to +establish another colony on the same basis, and so on--the movement will +be extended from group to group.” + +Mr. Squiggs readjusted his large round tortoise-shell glasses. + +“Do I understand that you are charging no interest?” + +“Not a cent.” + +“Then where do YOU come in?” + +“I had hoped to make it clear that I am not seeking to ‘come in.’ You +see, the money I am doing this with is not really mine at all.” + +“Not yours?” cried a chorus of voices. + +“No. Mr. Squiggs, you are a lawyer, and therefore a man of perspicuity +and accurate definitions. What is money?” + +“You flatter me. I should say that money is a medium for the exchange of +value.” + +“Very well. Therefore, if a man accepts money without giving value for +it in exchange he is violating the fundamental principle underlying the +use of money. He is, in short, an economic outlaw.” + +“I am afraid I don’t follow you.” + +“Let me illustrate by my own experience, and that of my family. My +father was possessed of a piece of land which at one time had little or +no value. Eventually it became of great value, not through anything he +had done, but as a result of the natural law that births exceed deaths. +Yet he, although he had done nothing to create this value, was able, +through a faulty economic system, to pocket the proceeds. Then, as +a result of the advantages which his wealth gave him, he was able to +extract from society throughout all the remainder of his life value out +of all proportion to any return he made for it. Finally it came down to +me. Holding my peculiar belief, which my right and left bower consider +sinful and silly respectively, I found money forced upon me, regardless +of the fact that I had given absolutely no value in exchange. Now if +money is a medium for the exchange of value and I receive money without +giving value for it, it is plain that someone else must have parted +with money without receiving value in return. The thing is basically +immoral.” + +“Your father couldn’t take it with him.” + +“But why should _I_ have it? I never contributed a finger-weight of +service for it. From society the money came and to society it should +return.” + +“You should worry,” said Transley. “Society isn’t worrying over you. +Some more of the roast beef?” + +“No, thank you. But to come down to date. It seems that I cannot get +away from this wealth which dogs me at every turn. Before enlisting I +had been margining certain steel stocks, purely in the ordinary course +of affairs. With the demands made by the war on the steel industry my +stocks went up in price and my good friend Murdoch was able to report +that it had made a fortune for me while I was overseas.... And we call +ourselves an intelligent people!” + +“And so we are,” said Mr. Squiggs. “We stick to a system we know to +be sound. It has weathered all the gales of the past, and promises to +weather those of the future. I tell you, Grant, communism won’t +work. You can’t get away from the principle of individual reward for +individual effort.” + +“My dear fellow, that’s exactly what I’m pleading for. I have no +patience with any claim that all men are equal, or capable of rendering +equal service to society, and I want payment to be made according to +service rendered, not according to the freaks of a haphazard system such +as I have been trying to describe.” + +“But how are you going to bring that golden age about?” Murdoch +inquired. + +“By education. The first thing is to accept the principle that wealth +cannot be accepted except in exchange for full-measure service. You, +Mrs. Transley--you teach your little boy that he must not steal. As he +grows older simply widen your definition of theft to include receiving +value without giving value in exchange. When all the mothers begin +teaching that principle the golden age which Mr. Murdoch inquires about +will be in sight.” + +“How would you drive it home?” said Y.D. “We have too many laws +already.” + +“Let us agree on that. The acceptance of this principle will make half +the laws now cluttering our statute books unnecessary. I merely urge +that we should treat the CAUSE of our economic malady rather than the +symptoms.” + +“Theoretically your idea has much to commend it, but it is quite +impracticable,” Mr. Squiggs announced with some finality. “It could +never be brought into effect.” + +“If a corporation can determine the value of the service rendered by +each of its hundred thousand employees, why cannot a nation determine +the value of the service rendered by each of its hundred million +citizens?” + +“THERE’S something for you to chew on, Squiggs,” said Transley. “You +argue your case well, Grant; I believe you have our legal light rather +feazed--that’s the word, isn’t it, Mr. Murdoch?--for once. I confess a +good deal of sympathy with your point of view, but I’m afraid you can’t +change human nature.” + +“I am not trying to do that. All that needs changing is the popular idea +of what is right and what is wrong. And that idea is changing with a +rapidity which is startling. Before the war the man who made money, by +almost any means, was set up on a pedestal called Success. Moralists +pointed to him as one to be emulated; Sunday school papers printed +articles to show that any boy might follow in his footsteps and become +great and respected. To-day, for following precisely the same practices, +the nation demands that he be thrown into prison; the Press heaps +contumely upon him; he has become an object of suspicion in the popular +eye. This change, world wide and quite unforeseen, has come about in +five years.” + +“Is that due to a new sense of right and wrong, or to just old-fashioned +envy of the rich which now feels strong enough to threaten where it used +to fawn?” Y.D.’s wife asked, and Grant was spared a hard answer by the +rancher’s interruption, “Hit the profiteer as hard as you like. He’s got +no friends.” + +“That depends upon who is the profiteer--a point which no one seems +to have settled. In the cities you may even hear prosperous ranchers +included in that class--absurd as that must seem to you,” Grant added, +with a smile to Y.D. “Require every man to give service according to +his returns and you automatically eliminate all profiteers, large and +small.” + +“But you will admit,” said Mrs. Squiggs, “that we must have some +well-off people to foster culture and give tone to society generally?” + +“I agree that the boy who is brought up in a home with a bath tub, and +all that that stands for, is likely to be a better citizen than the boy +who doesn’t have that advantage. That’s why I want every home to have a +bath tub.” + +Mrs. Squiggs subsided rather heavily. In youth her Saturday night +ablutions had been taken in the middle of the kitchen floor. + +“I have a good deal of sympathy,” said Transley, “with any movement +which has for its purpose the betterment of human conditions. Any +successful man of to-day will admit, if he is frank about it, that he +owes his success as much to good luck as to good judgment. If you could +find a way, Grant, to take the element of luck out of life, perhaps +you would be doing a service which would justify you in keeping +those millions which worry you so. But I can’t see that it makes any +difference to the prosperity of a country who owns the wealth in it, so +long as the wealth is there and is usefully employed. Money doesn’t +grow unless it works, and if it works it serves Society just the same as +muscle does. You could put all your wealth in a strong-box and bury it +under your house up there on the hill, and it wouldn’t increase a nickel +in a thousand years, but if you put it to work it makes money for +you and money for other people as well. I’m a little nervous about +new-fangled notions. It’s easier to wreck the ship than to build a new +one, which may not sail any better. What the world needs to-day is the +gospel of hard work, and everybody, rich and poor, on the job for all +that’s in him. That’s the only way out.” + +“We seem to have much in common,” Grant returned. “Hard work is the only +way out, and the best way to encourage hard work is to find a system by +which every man will be rewarded according to the service rendered.” + +At this point Mrs. Transley arose, and the men moved out into the +living-room to chat on less contentious subjects. After a time the women +joined them, and Grant presently found himself absorbed in conversation +with the old rancher’s wife. Zen seemed to pay but little attention +to him, and for the first time he began to realize what consummate +actresses women are. Had Transley been the most suspicious of +husbands--and in reality his domestic vision was as guileless as that of +a boy--he could have caught no glint of any smoldering spark of the long +ago. Grant found himself thinking of this dissembling quality as one of +nature’s provisions designed for the protection of women, much as the +sombre plumage of the prairie chicken protects her from the eye of the +sportsman. For after all the hunting instinct runs through all men, be +the game what it may. + +Before they realized how the time had flown Linder was protesting +that he must be on his way. At the gate Transley put a hand on Grant’s +shoulder. + +“I’m prepared to admit,” he said, “that there’s a whole lot in this old +world that needs correcting, but I’m not sure that it can be corrected. +You have a right to try out your experiments, but take a tip and keep +a comfortable cache against the day when you’ll want to settle down and +take things as they are. It is true and always has been true that a man +who is worth his salt, when he wants a thing, takes it--or goes down +in the attempt. The loser may squeal, but that seems to be the path of +progress. You can’t beat it.” + +“Well, we’ll see,” said Grant, laughing. “Sometimes two men, each worth +his salt, collide.” + +“As in the meadow of the South Y.D.,” said Transley, with a smile. “You +remember that, Y.D.--when our friend here upset the haying operations?” + +“Sure, I remember, but I’m not holdin’ it agin him now. A dead horse is +a dead horse, an’ I don’t go sniffin’ it.” + +“Perhaps I ought to say, though,” Grant returned, “that I really do not +know how the iron pegs got into that meadow.” + +“And I don’t know how your haystacks got afire, but I can guess. +Remember Drazk? A little locoed, an’ just the crittur to pull off a fool +stunt like that. When the fire swept up the valley, instead of down, he +made his get-away and has never been seen since. I reckon likely there +was someone in Landson’s gang capable o’ drivin’ pegs without consultin’ +the boss.” + +The little group were standing in the shadow and Grant had no +opportunity to notice the sudden blanching of Zen’s face at the mention +of Drazk. + +“You’re wrong about his not having been seen again, Y.D.,” said Grant. +“He managed to locate me somewhere in France. That reminds me, he had a +message for you, Mrs. Transley. I’m afraid Drazk is as irresponsible as +ever, provided he hasn’t passed out, which is more than likely.” + +Grant shook hands cordially with Y.D. and his wife, with Squiggs and +Mrs. Squiggs, with Transley and Mrs. Transley. Any inclination he may +have felt to linger over Zen’s hand was checked by her quick withdrawal +of it, and there was something in her manner quite beyond his +understanding. He could have sworn that the self-possessed Zen Transley +was actually trembling. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +The next day Wilson paid his usual visit to the field where Grant was +plowing, and again was he the bearer of a message. With much difficulty +he managed to extricate the envelope from a pocket. + +“Dear Mr. Grant,” it read, “I am so excited over a remark you dropped +last night I must see you again as soon as possible. Can you drop in +to-night, say at eight. Yours,--ZEN.” + +Grant read the message a second time, wondering what remark of his could +have occasioned it. As he recalled the evening’s conversation it had +been most about his experiment, and he had a sense that he had occupied +a little more of the stage than strictly good form would have suggested. +However, it was HIS scheme that had been under discussion, and he did +not propose to let it suffer for lack of a champion. But what had he +said that could be of more than general interest to Zen Transley? For a +moment he wondered if she had created a pretext upon which to bring him +to the house by the river, and then instantly dismissed that thought as +unworthy of him. At any rate it was evident that his addressing her by +her Christian name in the last message had given no offence. This +time she had not called him “The Man-on-the-Hill,” and there was no +suggestion of playfulness in the note. Then the signature, “Yours, Zen”; +that might mean everything, or it might mean nothing. Either it was +purely formal or it implied a very great deal indeed. Grant reflected +that it could hardly be interpreted anywhere between those two extremes, +and was it reasonable to suppose that Zen would use it in an ENTIRELY +formal sense? If it had been “yours truly,” or “yours sincerely,” or +any such stereotyped conclusion, it would not have called for a second +thought, but the simple word “yours”-- + +“If only she were,” thought Grant, and felt the color creeping to his +face at the thought. It was the first time he had dared that much. +He had not bothered to wonder much where or how this affair must end. +Through all the years that had passed since that night when she had +fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he had watched the ribbons of fire +rising and falling in the valley, and the smell of grass-smoke had been +strong in his nostrils, through all those years Zen had been to him a +sweet, evasive memory to be dreamed over and idealized, a wild, daring, +irresponsible incarnation of the spirit of the hills. Even in these last +few days he had followed the path simply because it lay before him. He +had not sought her out in all that great West; he had been content with +his dream of the Zen of years gone by; if Fate had brought him once +more within the orbit of his star surely Fate had a purpose in all its +doings. One who has learned to believe that no bullet will find him +unless “his name and number are on it” has little difficulty in excusing +his own indiscretions by fatalistic reasoning. + +He wrote on the back of the note, “Look for me at eight,” and then, +observing that the boy had not brought teddy along, he inquired +solicitously for the health of the little pet. + +“He’s all right, but mother wouldn’t let me bring him. Said I might +lose him.” The tone in which the last words were spoken implied just how +impossible such a thing was. Lose teddy! No one but a mother could think +such an absurdity. + +“But I got a knife!” Wilson exclaimed, his mind darting to a happier +subject. “Daddy gave it to me. Will you sharpen it? It is as dull as a +pig.” + +Grant was to learn during the day that all the boy’s figures of speech +were now hung on the family pig. The knife was as dull as a pig; the +plow was as rough as a pig; the horses, when they capered at a corner, +were as wild as a pig; even Grant himself, while he held the little chap +firmly on his knee, received the doubtful compliment of being as strong +as a pig. He went through the form of sharpening the knife on the +leather lines of the harness, and was pleased to discover that Wilson, +with childish dexterity of imagination, now pronounced it as sharp as a +pig. + +The boy did not return to the field in the afternoon, and Grant +spent the time in a strange admixture of happiness over the pleasant +companionship he had found in this little son of the prairies and +anticipation of his meeting with Zen that night. All his reflection had +failed to suggest the subject so interesting to her as to bring forth +her unconventional note, but it was enough for him that his presence was +desired. As to the future--he would deal with that when he came to it. +As evening approached the horses began their usual procedure of turning +their heads homeward at the end of each furrow. Beginning about five +o’clock, they had a habit of assuming that each furrow was obviously the +last one for the day, and when the firm hand on the lines brought them +sharply back to position they trudged on with an apologetic air which +seemed to say that of course they were quite willing to work another +hour or two but they supposed their master would want to be on his way +home. Today, however, he surprised them, and the first time they turned +their heads he unhitched, and, throwing himself lightly across Prince’s +ample back, drove them to their stables. + +Grant prepared his supper of bacon and eggs and fried potatoes, bread +and jam and black tea, and ate it from the kitchen table as was his +habit except on state occasions. Sometimes a touch of the absurdity of +his behavior would tickle his imagination--he, who might dine in the +midst of wealth and splendor, with soft lights beating down upon him, +soft music swelling through arching corridors, soft-handed waiters +moving about on deep, silent carpetings, perhaps round white shoulders +across the table and the faint smell of delicate perfumes--that he +should prefer to eat from the white oilcloth of his kitchen table was a +riddle far beyond any ordinary intellect. And yet he was happy in this +life; happy in his escape from the tragic routine of being decently +civilized; happier, he knew, than he ever could be among all the +artificial pleasures that wealth could buy him. Sometimes, as a +concession to this absurdity, he would set his table in the dining-room +with his best dishes, and eat his silent meal very grandly, until the +ridiculousness of it all would overcome him and he would jump up with a +boyish whoop and sweep everything into the kitchen. + +But to-night he had no time for make-belief. Supper ended, he put +a basin of water on the stove and went out to give his horses their +evening attention, after which he had a wash and a careful shave and +dressed himself in a light grey suit appropriate to an autumn evening. +And then he noticed that he had just time to walk to Transley’s house +before eight o’clock. + +Zen received him at the door; the maid had gone to a neighbor’s, she +said, and Wilson was in bed. It was still bright outside, but the +sheltered living-room, to which she showed him, was wrapped in a soft +twilight. + +“Shall we have a lamp, or the fireplace?” she asked, then inferentially +answered by saying that a cool wind was blowing down from the mountains. +“I had the maid build the fire,” she continued, and he could see the +outline of her form bending over the grate. She struck a match; its glow +lit up her cheeks and hair; in a moment the dry wood was crackling and +ribbons of blue smoke were curling into the chimney. + +“I have been so anxious to see you--again,” she said, drawing a chair +not far from his. “A chance remark of yours last night brought to memory +many things--things I have been trying to forget.” Then, abruptly, “Did +you ever kill a man?” + +“You know I was in the war,” he returned, evading her question. + +“Yes, and you do not care to dwell on that phase of it. I should not +have asked you, but you will be the better able to understand. For years +I have lived under the cloud of having killed a man.” + +“You!” + +“Yes. The day of the fire--you remember?” + +Grant had started from his chair. “I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed. +“There must have been justification!” + +“YOU had justification at the Front, but it doesn’t make the memory +pleasant. I had justification, but it has haunted me night and day. And +then, last night you said he was still alive, and my soul seemed to rise +up again and say, ‘I am free!’” + +“Who?” + +“Drazk.” + +“DRAZK!” + +“Yes. I thought I had killed him that day of the fire. It is rather an +unpleasant story, and you will excuse me repeating the details, I know. +He attacked me--we were both on horseback, in the river--I suppose +he was crazed with his wild deed, and less responsible than usual. He +dragged me from my horse and I fought with him in the water, but he was +much too strong. I had concluded that to drown myself, and perhaps him, +was the only way out, when I saw a leather thong floating in the water +from the saddle. By a ruse I managed to flip it around his neck, and the +next moment he was at my mercy. I had no mercy then. I understand how +it might be possible to kill prisoners. I pulled it tight, tight--pulled +till I saw his face blacken and his eyes stand out. He went down, but +still I pulled. And then after a little I found myself on shore. + +“I suppose it was the excitement of the fire that carried me on through +the day, but at night--you remember?--there came a reaction, and I +couldn’t keep awake. I suddenly seemed to feel that I was safe, and I +could sleep.” + +Grant had resumed his seat. He was deeply moved by this strange +confidence; he bent his eyes intently upon her face, now shining in the +ruddy light from the fire-place. Her frank reference to the event that +night seemed to create a new bond between them; he knew now, if ever +he had doubted it, that Zen Transley had treasured that incident in her +heart even as he had treasured it. + +“I was so embarrassed after the--the accident, you know,” she continued. +“I knew you must know I had been in the water. For days and weeks I +expected every hour to hear of the finding of the body. I expected to +hear the remark dropped casually by every new visitor at the ranch, +‘Drazk’s body was found to-day in the river. The Mounted Police are +investigating.’ But time went on and nothing was heard of it. It would +almost have been a relief to me if it had been discovered. If I had +reported the affair at once, as I should have done, all would have been +different, but having kept my secret for a while I found it impossible +to confess it later. It was the first time I ever felt my self-reliance +severely shaken.... But what was his message, and why did you not tell +me before?” + +“Because I attached no value to it; because I was, perhaps, a little +ashamed of it. I learned something of his weaknesses at the Front. +According to Drazk’s statement of it he won the war, and could as easily +win another, if occasion presented itself, so when he said, ‘If ever you +see Y.D.’s daughter tell her I’m well; she’ll be glad to hear it,’ I put +it down to his usual boasting and thought no more about it. I thought he +was trying to impress me with the idea that you were interested in him, +which was a very absurd supposition, as I saw it.” + +“Well, now you know,” she said, with a little laugh. “I’m glad it’s off +my mind.” + +“Of course your husband knows?” + +“No. That made it harder. I never told Frank.” + +She arose and walked to the fire-place, pretending to stir the logs. +When she had seated herself again she continued. + +“It has not been easy for me to tell all things to Frank. Don’t +misunderstand me; he has been a model husband, according to my +standards.” + +“According to your standards?” + +“According to my standards--when I married him. If standards were +permanent I suppose happy matings would be less unusual. A young couple +must have something in common in order to respond at all to each other’s +attractions, but as they grow older they set up different standards, and +they drift apart.” + +She paused, and Grant sat in silence, watching the glow of the firelight +upon her cheek. + +“Why don’t you smoke?” she exclaimed, suddenly springing up. “Let me +find you some of Frank’s cigars.” + +Grant protested that he smoked too much. She produced a box of cigars +and extended them to him. Then she held a match while he got his light. + +“Your standards have changed?” said Grant, taking up the thread when she +had sat down again. + +“They have. They have changed more than Frank’s, which makes me feel +rather at fault in the matter. How could he know that I would change my +ideal of what a husband should be?” + +“Why shouldn’t he know? That is the course of development. Without +changing ideals there would be stagnation.” + +“Perhaps,” she returned, and he thought he caught a note of weariness +in her voice. “But I don’t blame Frank--now. I rather blame him then. +He swept me off my feet; stampeded me. My parents helped him, and I was +only half disposed to resist. You see, I had this other matter on my +mind, and for the first time in my life I felt the need of protection. +Besides, I took a matter-of-fact view of marriage. I thought that +sentiment--love, if you like--was a thing of books, an invention of +poets and fiction writers. Practical people would be practical in their +marriages, as in their other undertakings. To marry Frank seemed a very +practical course. My father assured me that Frank had in him qualities +of large success. He would make money; he would be a prominent man in +circles of those who do things. These predictions he has fulfilled. +Frank has been all I expected--then.” + +“But you have changed your opinion of marriage--of the essentials of +marriage?” + +“Do YOU need to ask that? I was beginning to see the light--beginning to +know myself--even before I married him, but I didn’t stop to analyze. +I plunged ahead, as I have always done, trusting not to get into any +position from which I could not find a way out. But there are some +positions from which there is no way out.” + +Grant reflected that possibly his experience had been somewhat like hers +in that respect. He, too, had been following a path, unconcerned about +its end.... Possibly for him, too, there would be no way out. + +“Frank has been all I expected of him,” she repeated, as though anxious +to do her husband justice. “He has made money. He spends it generously. +If I live here modestly, with but one maid, it is because of a +preference which I have developed for simplicity. I might have a dozen +if I asked it, and I think Frank is somewhat surprised, and, it may +be, disappointed, that I don’t ask it. Although not a man for display +himself, he likes to see me make display. It’s a strange thing, isn’t +it, that a husband should wish his wife to be admired by other men?” + +“Some are successful in that,” Grant remarked. + +“Some are more successful than they intend to be.” + +“Frank, for instance?” he queried, pointedly. + +“I have not sought any man’s admiration,” she went on, with her +astonishing frankness. “I am too independent for that. What do I care +for their admiration? But every woman wants love.” + +Grant had changed his position, and sat with his elbows upon his knees, +his chin resting upon his hands. “You know, Zen,” he said, using her +Christian name deliberately, “the picture I drew that day by the river? +That is the picture I have carried in my mind ever since--shall carry to +the end. Perhaps it has led me to be imprudent--” + +“Imprudent?” + +“Has brought me here to-night, for example.” + +“You had my invitation.” + +“True. But why develop another situation which, as you say, has no way +out?” + +“Do you want to go?” + +“No, Zen, no! I want to stay--with you--always! But organized society +must respect its own conventions.” + +She arose and stood by his chair, letting her hand fall beside his +cheek. + +“You silly boy!” she said. “You didn’t organize society, nor subscribe +to its conventions. Still, I suppose there must be a code of some kind, +and we shall respect it. You had your chance, Denny, and you passed it +up.” + +“Had my chance?” + +“Yes. I refused you in words, I know, but actions speak louder--” + +“But when you told me you were engaged what could I honorably do?” + +“More--very much more--than you can do now. You could have shown me my +mistake. How much better to have learned it then, from you, than later, +by my own experience! You could have swept me off my feet, just as Frank +did. You did nothing. If I had sought evidence to prove how impractical +you are, as compared with my super-practical husband, I would have found +it in the way you handled, or rather failed to handle, that situation.” + +“What would your super-practical husband do now if he were in my +position?” he said, drawing her hands into his. + +“I don’t know.” + +“You do! He says that any man worth his salt takes what he wants in this +world. Am I worth my salt?” + +“There are different standards of value.... Goodness! how late it is! +You must go now, and don’t come back before, let us say, Wednesday.” + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Whatever may have been Grant’s philosophy about the unwisdom of creating +a situation which had no way out he found himself looking forward +impatiently to Wednesday evening. An hour or two at Zen’s fireside +provided the social atmosphere which his bachelor life lacked, and as +Transley seemed unappreciative of his domestic privileges, remaining in +town unless his business brought him out to the summer home, it seemed +only a just arrangement that they should be shared by one who valued +them at their worth. + +The Wednesday evening conversation developed further the understanding +that was gradually evolving between them, but it afforded no solution of +the problem which confronted them. Zen made no secret of the error she +had made in the selection of her husband, but had no suggestions to +offer as to what should be done about it. She seemed quite satisfied +to enjoy Grant’s conversation and company, and let it go at that--an +impossible situation, as the young man assured himself. She dismissed +him again at a quite respectable hour with some reference to Saturday +evening, which Grant interpreted as an invitation to call again at that +time. + +When he entered Saturday night it was evident that she had been +expecting him. A cool wind was again blowing down from the mountains, +laden with the soft smell of melting snow, and the fire in the grate was +built ready for the match. + +“I am my own maid to-night,” she said, as she stooped to light it. +“Sarah usually goes to town Saturday evening. Now we shall see if +someone is in good humor.” + +The fire curled up pleasantly about the wood. “There!” she exclaimed, +clapping her hands. “All is well. You see how economical I am; if we +must spend on fires we save on light. I love a wood fire; I suppose it +is something which reaches back to the original savage in all of us.” + +“To the days when our great ancestors roasted their victims while they +danced about the coals,” said Grant, completing the picture. “And yet +they say that human nature doesn’t change.” + +“Does it? I think our methods change with our environments, but that is +all. Wasn’t it you who propounded a theory about an age when men took +what they wanted by force giving way to an age in which they took what +they wanted by subtlety? Now, I believe, you want society to restrain +the man of clever wits just as it has learned to restrain the man of big +biceps. And when that is done will not man discover some other means of +taking what he wants?” + +She had seated herself beside him on a divanette and the joy of her +nearness fired Grant with a very happy intoxication. It recalled that +night on the hillside when, as she had since said, she felt safe in his +protection. + +“I am really very interested,” she continued. “I followed the argument +at the table on Sunday with as much concern as if it had been my pet +hobby, not yours, that was under discussion. If I said little it was +because I did not wish to appear too interested.” + +Her amazing frankness brought Grant, figuratively, to his feet at every +turn. She seemed to have no desire to conceal her interest in him, her +attachment for him. Hers was such candor as might well be born of +the vast hillsides, the great valleys, the brooding silences of her +girlhood. Yet it seemed obvious that she must be less candid with +Transley.... + +“I am glad you were interested,” he answered. “I was afraid I was rather +boring the company, but it was MY scheme and I had to stand up for it. I +fear I made few converts.” + +“You were dealing with practical men,” she returned, “and practical +men are never converted to a new idea. That is one of the things I have +learned in my years of married life, Dennison. Practical men find many +ways of turning an old idea to advantage, but they never evolve new +ones. New ideas come from dreamers--theoretical fellows like you.” + +“The dreamer is always a lap ahead of the rest of civilization, and the +funny thing is that the rest always thinks itself much more sane than +the dreamer, out there blazing the way.” + +“That’s not remarkable,” she replied. “That’s logical. The dreamer +blazes the way--proves the possibilities of his dream--and the practical +man follows it up and makes money out of it. To a practical man there is +nothing more practical than making money.” + +“Did I convert you?” he pursued. + +“I was not in need of conversion. I have been a follower of the new +faith--an imperfect and limping follower, it is true--ever since you +first announced it.” + +“I believe you are laughing at me.” + +“Certainly not! I have been brought up in an environment where there +is no standard higher than the money standard. Not that my father or +husband are dishonest; they are rigidly honest according to their ideas +of honesty. But to say that a man must give actual service for every +dollar he gets or it isn’t his--that is a conception of honesty so far +beyond them as to be an absurdity. But I have wanted to ask you how you +are going to enforce this new idealism.” + +“Idealism is not enforced. We aspire to it; we may not attain to it. +Christianity itself is idealism--the idealism of unselfishness. That +ideal has never been attained by any considerable number of people, and +yet it has drawn all humanity on to somewhat higher levels as surely as +the moon draws the tide. Superficial persons in these days are drawing +pictures of the failure of Christianity, which has failed in part; but +they could find a much more depressing subject by painting a world from +which all Christian idealism had been removed.” + +“But surely you have some plan for putting your theories to the +test--some plan which will force those to whom idealism appeals in vain. +We do not trust to a man’s idealism to keep him from stealing; we put +him in jail.” + +“All that will come in time, but the question for the seeker after truth +is not ‘Will it work?’ but ‘Is it true?’ I fancy I can see the practical +men of Moses’ time leaning over his shoulder as he inscribed the Ten +Commandments and remarking ‘No use of putting that down, Moses; you can +never enforce it.’ But Moses put it down and left the enforcement to +natural law and the growing intelligence of the generations which have +followed him. We are too much disposed to think it possible to evade +a law; to violate it, and escape punishment; but if a law is true, +punishment follows violation as implacably as the stars follow their +courses. And if society has failed to recognize the law that service, +and service only, should be able to command service in return, society +must suffer the penalty. We have only to look about us to see that +society is paying in full for its violations. + +“Yes, I have plans, and I think they would work, but the first thing is +the ideal--the new moral sense--that value must not be accepted without +giving equal value in return. Society, of course, will have to set up +the standards of value. That is a matter of detail--a matter for the +practical men who come in the wake of the idealist. But of this I am +certain--and I hark back to my old theme--that just as society has found +a means of preventing the man who is physically superior from taking +wealth without giving service in return, so must society find a means to +prevent men who are mentally superior from taking wealth without giving +service in return. The superior person, mark you, will still have an +advantage, in that his superiority will enable him to EARN more; we +shall merely stop him taking what he does not earn. That must come. I +think it will come soon. It is the next step in the social evolution of +the race.” + +She had drunk in his argument as one who hangs on every word, and her +wrapt face turned toward his seemed to glow and thrill him in return +with a sense of their spiritual oneness. She did not need to tell him +that Transley never talked to her like this. Transley loved her, if he +loved her at all, for the glory she reflected upon him; he was proud of +her beauty, of her daring, of her physical charm and self-reliance. The +deeper side of her mental life was to Transley a field unexplored; a +field of the very existence of which he was probably unaware. Grant +looked into her eyes, now close and responsive, and found within their +depths something which sent him to his feet. + +“Zen!” he exclaimed. “The mystery of life is too much for me. Surely +there must be an answer somewhere! Surely the puzzle has a system to +it--a key which may some day be found! Or can it be just chaos--just +blind, driveling, senseless chaos? In our own lives, why should we be +stranded, helpless, wrecked, with the happiness which might have been +ours hung just beyond our reach? Is there no answer to this?” + +“I suppose we disobeyed the law, back in those old days. We heard it +clearly enough, and we disobeyed. I allowed myself to be guided by +motives which were not the highest; you seemed to lack the enterprise +which would have won you its own reward. And as you have said, those who +violate the law must suffer for it. I have suffered.” + +She drew up her chin; he could see the firm muscles set beneath the +pink bloom of her flesh.... He had not thought of Zen suffering; all +his thought of her had been very grateful to his vanity, but he had not +thought of her suffering. He extended his hands and took hers within +them. + +“I have sometimes wondered,” he said, “why there is no second chance; +why one cannot wipe the slate clear of everything that has been and +start anew. What a world this might be!” + +“Would it be any better? Or would we go on making our mistakes over +again? That seems to be the only way we learn.” + +“But a second chance; the idea seems so fair, so plausible. Suppose you +are shooting on the ranges, for instance; you are allowed a shot or +two to find your nerve, to get your distance, to settle yourself to the +business in hand. But in this business of life you fire, and if some +distraction, some momentary influence or folly sends your aim wild, the +shot is gone and you are left with all the years that follow to think +about it. You can do nothing but think about it--the most profitless of +all occupations.” + +“For you there is a second chance,” she reminded him. “You must have +thought of that.” + +“No--no second chance.” + +She drew herself up slightly and away from him. “I have been very frank +with you, Dennison,” she said. “Suppose you try being frank with me?” + +In her eyes was still the fire of Zen of the Y.D., a woman unconquered +and unconquerable. She gave the impression that she accepted the +buffetings of life, but no one forced them upon her. She had erred; she +would suffer. That was fair; she accepted that. But as Grant gazed +on her face, tilted still in some of its old-time recklessness and +defiance, he knew that the day would come when she would say that her +cup was full, and, throwing it to the winds, would start life over, if +there can be such a thing as starting life over. And something in her +manner told him that day was very, very near. + +“All right,” he said, “I will be frank. Fate HAS brought within my orbit +a second chance, or what would have been a second chance had my heart +not been so full of you. She was a girl well worth thinking about. When +an employee introduces herself to you with a declaration of independence +you may know that you have met with someone out of the ordinary. I am +not speaking of these days of labor scarcity; it takes no great moral +quality to be independent when you have the whip-hand. But in the days +before the war, with two applicants for every position, a girl who +valued her freedom of spirit more than her job--more than even a very +good job--was a girl to think about.” + +“And you thought about her?” + +“I did. I was sick of the cringing and fawning of which my wealth made +me the object; I loathed the deference paid me, because I knew it was +paid, not to me, but to my money--I was homesick to hear someone tell me +to go to hell. I wanted to brush up against that spirit which says it is +as good as anybody else--against the manliness which stands its ground +and hits back. I found that spirit in Phyllis Bruce.” + +“Phyllis Bruce--rather a nice name. But are the men and women of the +East so--so servile as you suggest?” + +“No! That is where I was mistaken. Generations of environment had merely +trained them into docility of habit. Underneath they are red-blooded +through and through. The war showed us that. Zen--the proudest moment of +my life--except one--was when a kid in the office who couldn’t come into +my room without trembling jumped up and said ‘We WILL win!’--and called +me Grant! Think of that! Poor chap.... What was I saying? Oh, yes; +Phyllis. I grew to like her--very much--but I couldn’t marry her. You +know why.” + +Zen was looking into the fire with unseeing eyes. “I am not sure that +I know why,” she said at length. “You couldn’t marry me. It was your +second chance. You should have taken it.” + +“Would that be playing the game fairly--with her?” + +She rested her fingers lightly on the back of his hand, extending them +gently down until they fell between his own. + +“Denny, you big, big boy!” she murmured. “Do you suppose every man +marries his first choice?” + +“It has always seemed to me that a second choice is a makeshift. It +doesn’t seem quite square--” + +“No. I fancy some second choices are really first choices. Wisdom comes +with experience, you know.” + +“Not always. At any rate I couldn’t marry her while my heart was yours.” + +“I suppose not,” she answered, and again he noted a touch of weariness +in her voice. “I know something of what divided affection--if one can +even say it is divided--means. Denny, I will make a confession. I knew +you would come back; I always was sure you would come back. ‘Then,’ I +said to myself, ‘I will see this man Grant as he is, and the reality +will clear my brain of all this idealism which I have woven about him.’ +Perhaps you know what I mean. We sometimes meet people who impress us +greatly at the time, but a second meeting, perhaps years later, has a +very different effect. It sweeps all the idealism away, and we wonder +what it was that could have charmed us so. Well--I hoped--I really hoped +for some experience like that with you. If only I could meet you again +and find that, after all, you were just like other men; self-centred, +arrogant, kind, perhaps, but quite superior--if I could only find THAT +to be true then the mirage in which I have lived for all these years +would be swept away and my old philosophy that after all it doesn’t +matter much whom one marries so long as he is respectable and gives her +a good living would be vindicated. And so I have encouraged you to come +here; I have been most unconventional, I know, but I was always that--I +have cultivated your acquaintance, and, Denny, I am SO disappointed!” + +“Disappointed? Then the mirage HAS cleared away?” + +“On the contrary, it grows more distorted every day. I see you towering +above all your fellow humans; reaching up into a heaven so far above +them that they don’t even know of its existence. I see you as really The +Man-On-the-Hill, with a vision which lays all this selfish, commonplace +world at your feet. The idealism which I thought must fade away is +justified--heightened--by the reality.” + +She had turned her face to him, and Grant, little as he understood the +ways of women, knew that she had made her great confession. For a moment +he held himself in check.... then from somewhere in his subconsciousness +came ringing the phrase, “Every man worth his salt.... takes what he +wants.” That was Transley’s morality; Transley, the Usurper, who had +bullied himself into possession of this heart which he had never won +and could never hold; Transley, the fool, frittering his days and +nights with money! He seized her in his arms, crushing down her weak +resistance; he drew her to him until, as in that day by a foothill river +somewhere in the sunny past, her lips met his and returned their caress. +He cared now for nothing--nothing in the whole world but this quivering +womanhood within his arms.... + +“You must go,” she whispered at length. “It is late, and Frank’s habits +are somewhat erratic.” + +He held her at arm’s length, his hands upon her shoulders. “Do you +suppose that fear--of anything--can make me surrender you now?” + +“Not fear, perhaps--I know it could not be fear--but good sense may do +it. It was not fear that made me send you home early from your previous +calls. It was discretion.” + +“Oh!” he said, a new light dawning, and he marvelled again at her +consummate artistry. + +“But I must tell you,” she resumed, “Frank leaves on a business trip +to-morrow night. He will be gone for some time, and I shall motor into +town to see him off. I am wondering about Wilson,” she hurried on, as +though not daring to weigh her words; “Sarah will be away--I am letting +her have a little holiday--and I can’t take Wilson into town with me +because it will be so late.” Then, with a burst of confession she spoke +more deliberately. “That isn’t exactly the reason, Dennison; Frank +doesn’t know I have let Sarah go, and I--I can’t explain.” + +Her face shone pink and warm in the glow of the firelight, and as the +significance of her words sank in upon him Grant marvelled at that +wizardry of the gods which could bring such homage to the foot of man. +A tenderness such as he had never known suffused him; her very presence +was holy. + +“Bring the boy over and let him spend the night with me. We are great +chums and we shall get along splendidly.” + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Grant spent his Sunday forenoon in an exhaustive house-cleaning +campaign. Bachelor life on the farm is not conducive to domestic +delicacy, and although Grant had never abandoned the fundamentals he had +allowed his interpretation of essential cleanliness to become somewhat +liberal. The result was that the day of rest usually confronted him +with a considerable array of unwashed pots and pans and other culinary +utensils. To-day, while the tawny autumn hills seemed to fairly heave +and sigh with contentment under a splendor of opalescent sunshine, he +scoured the contents of his kitchen until they shone; washed the floor; +shook the rugs from the living-room and swept the corners, even behind +the gramophone; cleared the ashes from the hearth and generally set his +house in order, for was not she to call upon him that evening on her +way to town, and was not little Wilson--he of the high adventures with +teddy-bear and knife and pig--to spend the night with him? + +When he was able to view his handiwork with a feeling that even feminine +eyes would find nothing to offend, Grant did an unwonted thing. He +unlocked the whim-room and opened the windows that the fresh air might +play through the silent chamber. To the west the mountains looked down +in sombre placidity as they had looked down every bright autumn morning +since the dawn of time, their shoulders bathed in purple mist and their +snow-crowned summits shining in the sun. For a long time Grant stood +drinking in the scene; the fertile valley lying with its square farms +like a checker-board of the gods, with its round little lakes beating +back the white sunshine like coins from the currency of the Creator; the +ruddy copper-colored patches of ripe wheat, and drowsy herds motionless +upon the receding hills; the blue-green ribbon of river with its yellow +fringes of cottonwood and bluffs of forbidding spruce, and behind and +over all the silent, majestic mountains. It was a sight to make the soul +of man rise up and say, “I know I stand on the heights of the Eternal!” + Then as his eyes followed the course of the river Grant picked out a +column of thin blue smoke, and knew that Zen was cooking her Sunday +dinner. + +The thought turned him to his dusting of the whim-room, and afterwards +to his own kitchen. When he had lunched and dressed he took a stroll +over the hills, thinking a great deal, but finding no answer. On his +return he descried the familiar figure of Linder in a semi-recumbent +position on the porch, and Linder’s well-worn car in the yard. + +“How goes it, Linder?” he said, cheerily, as he came up. “Is the Big +Idea going to fructify?” + +“The Big Idea seems to be all right. You planned it well.” + +“Thanks. But is it going to be self-supporting--I mean in the matter of +motive power. Would it run if you and I and Murdoch were wiped out?” + +“Everything must have a head.” + +“Democracy must find its own head--must grow it out of the materials +supplied. If it doesn’t do that it’s a failure, and the Big Idea will +end in being the Big Fizzle. That’s why I’m leaving it so severely +alone--I want to see which way it’s headed.” + +“I could suggest another reason,” said Linder, pointedly. + +“Another reason for what?” + +“For your leaving it so severely alone.” + +“What are you driving at?” demanded Grant, somewhat petulantly. “You are +in a taciturn mood to-day, Linder.” + +“Perhaps I am, Grant, and if so it comes from wondering how a man with +as much brains as you have can be such a damned fool upon occasion.” + +“Drop the riddles, Linder. Let me have it in the face.” + +“It’s just like this, Grant, old boy,” said Linder, getting up and +putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I feel that I still have an +interest in the chap who saved all of me except what this empty sleeve +stands for, and it’s that interest which makes me speak about something +which you may say is none of my business. I was out here Monday night to +see you, and you were not at home. I came out again Wednesday, and you +were not at home. I came last night and you were not at home, and had +not come back at midnight. Your horses were in the barn; you were not +far away.” + +“Why didn’t you telephone me?” + +“If I hadn’t cared more for you than I do for my job and the Big Idea +thrown in I could have settled it that way. But, Grant, I do.” + +“I believe you. But why this sudden worry over me? I was merely spending +the evening at a neighbor’s.” + +“Yes--at Transley’s. Transley was in town, and Mrs. Transley is--not +responsible--where you are concerned.” + +“Linder!” + +“I saw it all that night at dinner there. Some things are plain to +everyone--except those most involved. Now it’s not my job to say to you +what’s right and wrong, but the way it looks to me is this: what’s the +use of setting up a new code of morality about money which concerns, +after all, only some of us, if you’re going to knock down those things +which concern all of us?” + +Grant regarded his foreman for some time without answering. “I +appreciate your frankness, Linder,” he said at length. “Your friendship, +which I can never question, gives you that privilege. Man to man, I’m +going to be equally frank with you. To begin with, I suppose you will +admit that Y.D.’s daughter is a strong character, a woman quite capable +of directing her own affairs?” + +“The stronger the engine the bigger the smash if there’s a wreck.” + +“It’s not a case of wrecking; it’s a case of trying to save something +out of the wreck. Convention, Linder, is a torture-monger; it binds men +and women to the stake of propriety and bids them smile while it snuffs +out all the soul that’s in them. We have pitted ourselves against +convention in economic affairs; shall we not--” + +“No! It was pure unselfishness which led you into the Big Idea. That +isn’t what’s leading you now.” + +“Well, let me put it another way. Transley is a clever man of affairs. +He knows how to accomplish his ends. He applied the methods--somewhat +modified for the occasion--of a landshark in winning his wife. He makes +a great appearance of unselfishness, but in reality he is selfish to the +core. He lavishes money on her to satisfy his own vanity, but as for her +finer nature, the real Zen, her soul if you like--he doesn’t even know +she has one. He obtained possession by false pretences. Which is the +more moral thing--to leave him in possession, or to throw him out? +Didn’t you yourself hear him say that men who are worth their salt take +what they want?” + +“Since when did you let him set YOUR standards?” + +“That’s hardly fair.” + +“I think it is. I think, too, that you are arguing against your own +convictions. Well, I’ve had my say. I deliberately came out to-day +without Murdoch so that I might have it. You would be quite justified +in firing me for what I’ve done. But now I’m through, and no matter what +may happen, remember, Linder will never have suspected anything.” + +“That’s like you, old chap. We’ll drop it at that, but I must explain +that Zen is going to town to-night to meet Transley, and is leaving the +boy with me. It is an event in my young life, and I have house-cleaned +for it appropriately. Come inside and admire my handiwork.” + +Linder admired as he was directed, and then the two men fell into a +discussion of business matters. Eventually Grant cooked supper, and just +as they had finished Mrs. Transley drove up in her motor. + +“Here we are!” she cried, cheerily. “Glad to see you, Mr. Linder. Wilson +has his teddy-bear and his knife and his pyjamas, and is a little put +out, I think, that I wouldn’t let him bring the pig.” + +“I shall try and make up the deficiency,” said Grant, smiling broadly, +as the boy climbed to his shoulder. “Won’t you come in? Linder, among +his other accomplishments learned in France, is an excellent chaperon.” + +“Thank you, no; I must get along. I shall call early in the morning, so +that you will not be delayed on Wilson’s account.” + +“No need of that; he can ride to the field with me on Prince. He is a +great help with the plowing.” + +“I’m sure.” She stepped up to Grant and drew the boy’s face down to +hers. “Good-bye, dear; be a good boy,” she whispered, and Wilson waved +kisses to her as the motor sped down the road. + +Linder took his departure soon after, and Grant was surprised to find +himself almost embarrassed in the presence of his little guest. +The embarrassment, however, was all on his side. Wilson was greatly +interested in the strange things in the house, and investigated them +with the romantic thoroughness of his years. Grant placed a collection +of war trophies that had no more fight in them at the child’s disposal, +and he played about until it was time to go to bed. + +Where to start on the bedtime preparations was a puzzle, but Wilson +himself came to Grant’s aid with explicit instructions about buttons and +pins. Grant fervently hoped the boy would be able to reverse the process +in the morning, otherwise-- + +Suddenly, with a little dexterous movement, the child divested himself +of all his clothing, and rushed into a far corner. + +“You have to catch me now,” he shouted in high glee. “One, two--” + +Evidently it was a game, and Grant entered into the spirit of it, +finally running Wilson to earth on the farthest corner of the kitchen +table. To adjust the pyjamas was, as Grant confessed, a bigger job than +harnessing a four-horse team, but at length it was completed. + +“You must hear my prayer, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill,” said the boy. “You +have to sit down in a chair.” + +Grant sat down and with a strange mixture of emotions drew the little +chap between his knees as he listened to the long-forgotten prattle. +He felt his fingers running through Wilson’s hair as other fingers, now +long, long turned to dust, had once run through his.... + +At the third line the boy stopped. “You have to tell me now,” he +prompted. + +“But I can’t, Willie; I have forgotten.” + +“Huh, you don’t know much,” the child commented, and glibly quoted the +remaining lines. “And God bless Daddy and Mamma and teddy-bear and Uncle +Man-on-the-Hill and the pig. Amen,” he concluded, accompanying the last +word with a jump which landed him fairly in Grant’s lap. His little +arms went up about his friend’s neck, and his little soft cheek rested +against a tanned and weather-beaten one. Slowly Grant’s arms closed +about the warm, lithe body and pressed it to his in a new passion, +strange and holy. Then he led him to the whim-room, turned down the +white sheets in which no form had ever lain and placed the boy between +them, snuggled his teddy down by his side and set his knife properly +in view upon the dresser. And then he leaned down again and kissed the +little face, and whispered, “Good night, little boy; God keep you safe +to-night, and always.” And suddenly Grant realized that he had been +praying.... + +He withdrew softly, and only partly closed the door; then he chose a +seat where he could see the little figure lying peacefully on the white +bed. The last shafts of the setting sun were falling in amber wedges +across the room. He picked up a book, thinking to read, but he could not +keep his attention on the page; he found his mind wandering back into +the long-forgotten chambers of its beginning, conjuring up from the +faint recollections of infancy visions of the mother he had hardly +known.... After a while he tip-toed to the whim-room door and found that +Wilson, with his arms firmly clasped about his teddy-bear, was deep in +the sleep of childhood. + +“The dear little chap,” he murmured. “I must watch by him to-night. It +would be unspeakable if anything should happen him while he is under my +care.” + +He felt a sense of warmth, almost a smothering sensation, and raised his +hand to his forehead. It came down covered with perspiration. + +“It’s amazingly close,” he said, and walked to one of the French windows +opening to the west. The sun had gone down, and a brooding darkness lay +over all the valley, but far up in the sky he could trace the outline of +a cloud. Above, the stars shone with an unwonted brightness, but below +all was a bank of blue-black darkness. The air was intensely still; in +the silence he could hear the wash of the river. Grant reflected that +never before had he heard the wash of the river at that distance. + +“Looks like a storm,” he commented, casually, and suddenly felt +something tighten about his heart. The storms of the foothill country, +which occasionally sweep out of the mountains and down the valleys on +the shortest notice, had no terror for him; he had sat on horseback +under an oilskin slicker through the worst of them; but to-night! +Even as he watched, the distant glare of lightning threw the heaving +proportions of the thundercloud into sharp relief. + +He turned to his chair, but found himself pacing the living-room with +an altogether inexplicable nervousness. He had held the line many a bad +night at the Front while Death spat out of the darkness on every hand; +he had smoked in the faces of his men to cover his own fear and to shame +them out of theirs; he had run the whole gamut of the emotion of the +trenches, but tonight something more awesome than any engine of man was +gathering its forces in the deep valleys. He shook himself to throw off +the morbidness that was settling upon him; he laughed, and the echo came +back haunting from the silent corners of the house. Then he lit a lamp +and set it, burning low, in the whim-room, and noted that the boy slept +on, all unconcerned. + +“Damn Linder, anyway!” he exclaimed presently. “I believe he shook me +up more than I realized. He charged me with insincerity; me, who have +always made sincerity my special virtue.... Well, there may be something +in it.” + +A faint, indistinct growling, as of the grinding of mighty rocks, came +down from the distances. + +“The storm will be nothing,” he assured himself. “A gust of wind; a +spatter of rain; perhaps a dash of hail; then, of a sudden, a sky +so calm and peaceful one would wonder how it ever could have been +disturbed.” Even as he spoke the house shivered in every timber as the +gale struck it and went whining by. + +He rushed to the whim-room, but found the boy still sleeping soundly. “I +must stay up,” he reasoned with himself; “I must be on hand in case he +should be frightened.” + +Suddenly it occurred to Grant that, quite apart from his love for +Wilson, if anything should happen the child in his house a very +difficult situation would be created. Transley would demand +explanations--explanations which would be hard to make. Why was Wilson +there at all? Why was he not at home with Sarah? Sarah away from home! +Why had Zen kept that a secret?... How long had this thing been going +on, anyway? Grant feared neither Transley nor any other man, and yet +there was something akin to fear in his heart as he thought of these +possibilities. He would be held accountable--doubly accountable--if +anything happened the child. Even though it were something quite beyond +his control; lightning, for example-- + +The gale subsided as quickly as it had come, and the sudden silence +which followed was even more awesome. It lasted only for a moment; a +flash of lightning lit up every corner of the house, bursting like white +fire from every wall and ceiling. Grant rushed to the whim-room and was +standing over the child when the crash of thunder came upon them. The +boy stirred gently, smiled, and settled back to his sleep. + +Grant drew the blinds in the whim-room, and went out to draw them in +the living-room, but the sight across the valley was of a majesty so +terrific that it held him fascinated. The play of the lightning was +incessant, and with every flash the little lakes shot back their white +reflection, and distant farm window-panes seemed heliographing to each +other through the night. As yet there was no rain, but a dense wall of +cloud pressed down from the west, and the farther hills were hidden even +in the brightest flashes. + +Turning from the windows, Grant left the blinds open. “Only cowardice +would close them,” he muttered to himself, “and surely, in addition to +the other qualities Linder has attributed to me, I am not a coward. If +it were not for Willie I could stand and enjoy it.” + +Presently rain began to fall; a few scattered drops at first, then +thicker, harder, until the roof and windows rattled and shook with +their force. The wind, which had gone down so suddenly, sprang up again, +buffeting the house as it rushed by with the storm. Grant stood in the +whim-room, in the dim light of the lamp turned low, and watched the +steady breathing of his little guest with as much anxiety as if some +dread disease threatened him. For the first time in his life there came +into Grant’s consciousness some sense of the price which parents pay in +the rearing of little children. He thought of all the hours of sickness, +of all the childish hurts and dangers, and suddenly he found himself +thinking of his father with a tenderness which was strange and new to +him. Doubtless under even that stern veneer of business interest had +beat a heart which, many a time, had tightened in the grip of fear for +young Dennison. + +As the night wore on the storm, instead of spending itself quickly +as Grant had expected, continued unabated, but his nervous tension +gradually relaxed, and when at length Wilson was awakened by an +exceptionally loud clap of thunder he took the boy in his arms and +soothed his little fears as a mother might have done. They sat for +a long while in a big chair in the living-room, and exchanged such +confidences as a man may with a child of five. After the lad had dropped +back into sleep Grant still sat with him in his arms, thinking.... + +And what he thought was this: He was a long while framing the exact +thought; he tried to beat it back in a dozen ways, but it circled around +him, gradually closed in upon him and forced its acceptance. “Linder +called me a fool, and he was right. He might have called me a coward, +and again he would have been right. Linder was right.” + +Some way it seemed easy to reach that conclusion while this little +sleeping form lay in his arms. Perhaps it had quickened into life that +ennobling spirit of parenthood which is all sacrifice and love and +self-renunciation. The ends which seemed so all-desirable a few hours +ago now seemed sordid and mean and unimportant. Reaching out for some +means of self-justification Grant turned to the Big Idea; that was his; +that was big and generous and noble. But after all, was it his? The idea +had come in upon him from some outside source--as perhaps all ideas +do; struck him like a bullet; swept him along. He was merely the agency +employed in putting it into effect. It had cost him nothing. He was +doing that for society. Now was the time to do something that would +cost; to lay his hand upon the prize and then relinquish it--for the +sake of Wilson Transley! + +“And by God I’ll do it!” he exclaimed, springing to his feet. He carried +the child back to his bed, and then turned again to watch the storm +through the windows. It seemed to be subsiding; the lightning, although +still almost continuous, was not so near. The air was cooling off and +the rain was falling more steadily, without the gusts and splatters +which marked the storm in its early stages. And as he looked out over +the black valley, lighted again and again by the glare of heaven’s +artillery, Grant became conscious of a deep, mysterious sense of peace. +It was as though his soul, like the elements about him, caught in a +paroxysm of elemental passion, had been swept clean and pure in the fire +of its own upheaval. + +“What little incidents turn our lives!” he thought. “That boy; in some +strange way he has been the means of bringing me to see things as they +are--which not even Linder could do. The mind has to be fertilized for +the thought, or it can’t think it. He brought the necessary influence to +bear. It was like the night at Murdoch’s house, the night when the Big +Idea was born. Surely I owe that to Murdoch, and his wife, and Phyllis +Bruce.” + +The name of Phyllis Bruce came to him with almost a shock. He had been +so occupied with his farm and with Zen that he had thought but little of +her of late. As he turned the matter over in his mind now he felt that +he had used Phyllis rather shabbily. He recalled having told Murdoch to +send for her, but that was purely a business transaction. Yet he felt +that he had never entirely forgotten her, and he was surprised to find +how tenderly the memory of her welled up within him. Zen’s vision had +been clearer than his; she had recognized in Phyllis Bruce a party to +his life’s drama. “The second choice may be really the first,” she had +said. + +Grant lit a cigar and sat down to smoke and think. The matter of Phyllis +needed prompt settlement. It afforded a means to burn his bridges +behind him, and Grant felt that it would be just as well to cut off all +possibility of retreat. Fortunately the situation was one that could be +explained--to Phyllis. He had come out West again to be sure of himself; +he was sure now; would she be his wife? He had never thought that line +out to a conclusion before, but now it proved a subject very delightful +to contemplate. + +He had told himself, back in those days in the East, that it would not +be fair to marry Phyllis Bruce while his heart was another’s. He had +believed that then; now he knew the real reason was that he had allowed +himself to hope, against all reason, that Zen Transley might yet be his. +He had harbored an unworthy desire, and called it a virtue. Well--the +die was cast. He had definitely given Zen up. He would tell Phyllis +everything.... That is, everything she needed to know. + +It would be best to settle it at once--the sooner the better. He went +to his desk and took out a telegraph blank. He addressed it to Phyllis, +pondered a minute in a great hush in the storm, and wrote, + +“I am sure now. May I come? Dennison.” + +This done he turned to the telephone, hurrying as one who fears for the +duration of his good resolutions. It was a chance if the line was not +out of business, but he lifted the receiver and listened to the thump of +his heart as he waited. + +Presently came a voice as calm and still as though it spoke from another +world, “Number?” + +He gave the number of Linder’s rooms in town; it was likely Linder had +remained in town, but it was a question whether the telephone bell would +waken him. He had recollections of Linder as a sound sleeper. But even +as this possibility entered his mind he heard Linder’s phlegmatic voice +in his ear. + +“Oh, Linder! I’m so glad I got you. Rush this message to Phyllis +Bruce.... Linder?... Linder!” + +There was no answer. Nothing but a hollow, empty sound on the wire, as +though it led merely into the universe in general. He tried to call the +operator, but without success. The wire was down. + +He turned from it with a sense of acute impatience. Was this an omen of +obstacles to bar him now from Phyllis Bruce? He had a wild thought of +saddling a horse and riding to town, but at that moment the storm came +down afresh. Besides, there was the boy. + +Suddenly came a quick knock at the door; the handle turned, and a +drenched, hatless figure, with disheveled, wet hair, and white, drawn +face burst in upon him. It was Zen Transley. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +“Zen!” + +“How is he--how is Wilson?” she demanded, breathlessly. + +“Sound as a bell,” he answered, alarmed by her manner. The self-assured +Zen was far from self-assurance now. “Come, see, he is asleep.” + +He led her into the whim-room and turned up the lamp. The lad was +sleeping soundly, his teddy-bear clasped in his arms, his little pink +and white face serene under the magic skies of slumberland. Grant +expected that Zen would throw herself upon the child in her agitation, +but she did not. She drew her fingers gently across his brow, then, +turning to Grant, + +“Rather an unceremonious way to break into your house,” she said, with a +little laugh. “I hope you will pardon me.... I was uneasy about Wilson.” + +“But tell me--how--where did you come from?” + +“From town. Let me stand in your kitchen, or somewhere.” + +“You’re wet through. I can’t offer you much change.” + +“Not as wet as when you first met me, Dennison,” she said, with a smile. +“I have a good waterproof, but my hat blew off. It’s somewhere on the +road. I couldn’t see through the windshield, so I put my head out, and +away it went.” + +“The hat?” + +Then both laughed, and an atmosphere that had been tense began to settle +back to normal. Grant led her out to the living-room, removed her coat, +and started a fire. + +“So you drove out over those roads?” he said, when the smoke began to +curl up around the logs. “You had your courage.” + +“It wasn’t courage, Dennison; it was terror. Fear sometimes makes one +wonderfully brave. After I saw Frank off I went to the hotel. I had a +room on the west side, and instead of going to bed I sat by the window +looking out at the storm and at the wet streets. I could see the +flashes of lightning striking down as though they were aimed at definite +objects, and I began to think of Wilson, and of you. You see, it was the +first night I had ever spent away from him, and I began to think.... + +“After a while I could bear it no longer, and I rushed down and out to +the garage. There was just one young man on night duty, and I’m sure +he thought me crazy. When he couldn’t dissuade me he wanted to send a +driver with me. You know I couldn’t have that.” + +She was looking squarely at him, her face strangely calm and +emotionless. Grant nodded that he followed her reasoning. + +“So here I am,” she continued. “No doubt you think me silly, too. You +are not a mother.” + +“I think I understand,” he answered, tenderly. “I think I do.” + +They sat in silence for some time, and presently they became aware of +a grey light displacing the yellow glow from the lamp and the ruddy +reflections of the fire. “It is morning,” said Grant. “I believe the +storm has cleared.” + +He stood beside her chair and took her hand in his. “Let us watch the +dawn break on the mountains,” he said, and together they moved to the +windows that overlooked the valley and the grim ranges beyond. Already +shafts of crimson light were firing the scattered drift of clouds far +overhead.... + +“Dennison,” she said at length, turning her face to his, “I hope you +will understand, but--I have thought it all over. I have not hidden my +heart from you. For the boy’s sake, and for your sake, and for the sake +of ‘a scrap of paper’--that was what the war was over, wasn’t it?--” + +“I know,” he whispered. “I know.” + +“Then you have been thinking, too?... I am so glad!” In the growing +light he could see the moisture in her bright eyes glisten, and it +seemed to him this wild, daring daughter of the hills had never been +lovelier than in this moment of confession and of high resolve. + +“I am so glad,” she repeated, “for your sake--and for my own. Now, +again, you are really the Man-on-the-Hill. We have been in the valley of +late. You can go ahead now with your high plans, with your Big Idea. You +will marry Miss Bruce, and forget.” + +“I shall remember with chastened memory, but I shall never forget,” he +said at length. “I shall never forget Zen of the Y.D. And you--what will +you do?” + +“I have the boy. I did not realize how much I had until to-night. +Suddenly it came upon me that he was everything. You won’t understand, +Dennison, but as we grow older our hearts wrap up around our children +with a love quite different from that which expresses itself in +marriage. This love gives--gives--gives, lavishly, unselfishly, asking +nothing in return.” + +“I think I understand,” he said again. “I think I do.” + +They turned their eyes to the mountains, and as they looked the first +shafts of sunlight fell on the white peaks and set them dazzling like +mighty diamond-points against the blue bosom of the West. Slowly the +flood of light poured down their mighty sides and melted the mauve +shadows of the valley. Suddenly a ray of the morning splendor shot +through the little window in the eastern wall of the living-room and +fell fairly upon the woman’s head, crowning her like a halo of the +Madonna. + +“It is morning on the mountains--and on you!” Grant exclaimed. “Zen, you +are very, very beautiful.” He raised her hand and pressed her fingers to +his lips. + +As they stood watching the sunlight pour into the valley a sharp knock +sounded on the door. “Come,” said Dennison, and the next moment it +swung open and Phyllis Bruce entered, followed immediately by Linder. A +question leapt into her eyes at the remarkable situation which greeted +them, and she paused in embarrassment. + +“Phyllis!” Grant exclaimed. “You here!” + +“It would seem that I was not expected.” + +“It is all very simple,” Grant explained, with a laugh. “Little Willie +Transley was my guest overnight. On account of the storm his mother +became alarmed, and drove out from the city early this morning for him. +Mrs. Transley, let me introduce Miss Bruce--Phyllis Bruce, of whom I +have told you.” + +Zen’s cordial handshake did more to reassure Phyllis than any amount of +explanations, and Linder’s timely observation that he knew Wilson was +there and was wondering about him himself had valuable corroborative +effect. + +“But now--YOUR explanations?” said Grant. “How comes it, Linder?” + +“Simple enough, from our side. When I got back to town last night I +found Murdoch highly excited over a telegram from Miss Bruce that she +would arrive on the 3 a.m. train. He was determined to wait up, but +when the storm came on I persuaded him to go home, as I was sure I could +identify her. So I was lounging in my room waiting for three o’clock +when I got your telephone call. All I could catch was the fact that you +were mighty glad to get me, and had some urgent message for Miss Bruce. +Then the connection broke.” + +“I see. And you, of course, assured Miss Bruce that I was being +murdered, or meeting some such happy and effective ending, out here in +the wilderness.” + +“Not exactly that, but I reported what I could, and Miss Bruce insisted +upon coming out at once. The roads were dreadful, but we had daylight. +Also, we have a trophy.” + +Linder went out and returned in a moment with a sadly bedraggled hat. + +“My poor hat!” Zen exclaimed. “I lost it on the way.” + +“It is the best kind of evidence that you had but recently come over the +road,” said Linder, significantly. + +“I think no more evidence need be called,” said Phyllis. “May I lay off +my things?” + +“Certainly--certainly,” Grant apologized. “But I must introduce one more +exhibit.” He handed her the telegram he had written during the night. +“That is the message I wanted Linder to rush to you,” he said, and as +she read it he saw the color deepen in her cheeks. + +“I’m going to get breakfast, Mr. Grant,” Zen announced with a sudden +burst of energy. “Everybody keep out of the kitchen.” + +“Guess I’ll feed up for you, this morning, old chap,” said Linder, +beating a retreat to the stables. + +And when Phyllis had laid aside her coat and hat and had straightened +her hair a little in the glass above the mantelpiece she walked straight +to Grant and put both her hands in his. “Let me see this boy, Willie +Transley,” she said. + +Grant led her into the whim-room, where the boy still slept soundly, +and drew aside the blinds that the morning light might fall about him. +Phyllis bent over the child. “Isn’t he dear?” she said, and stooped and +kissed his lips. + +Then she stood up and looked for what seemed to Grant a very long time +at the panorama of grandeur that stretched away to the westward. + +“When may I expect an answer, Phyllis?” he said at length. “You know +why my question has been so long delayed. I shall not attempt to excuse +myself. I have been very, very foolish. But to-day I am very, very wise. +May I also be very, very happy?” + +He had taken her hands in his, and as she did not resist he drew her +gently to him. + +“Little Willie christened me The Man-on-the-Hill,” he whispered. “I have +tried to live on the hill, but I need you to keep me from falling off.” + +“What about your settlement plan? I thought you wanted me for that.” + +“We will give our lives to that, together, Phyllis, to that, and to +making this house a home. If God should give us--” + +He did not finish the thought, for the form of Phyllis Bruce trembled +against his, and her lips had murmured “Yes.”... + +“Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant! The telephone is ringing,” called the clear voice +of Zen Transley. “Shall I take the message?” + +“Please do,” said Dennison, inwardly abjuring the efficiency of the +lineman who had already made repairs. + +“It’s Mr. Murdoch, and he’s highly excited, and he says have you Phyllis +Bruce here.” + +“Tell him I have, and I’m going to keep her.” + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dennison Grant, by Robert Stead + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DENNISON GRANT *** + +***** This file should be named 3264-0.txt or 3264-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/3264/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dennison Grant + A Novel of To-day + +Author: Robert Stead + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3264] +Last Updated: November 19, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DENNISON GRANT *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + DENNISON GRANT + </h1> + <h1> + A Novel of To-day + </h1> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Robert Stead + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + “Chuck at the Y.D. to-night, and a bed under the shingles,” shouted + Transley, waving to the procession to be off. + </p> + <p> + Linder, foreman and head teamster, straightened up from the half load of + new hay in which he had been awaiting the final word, tightened the lines, + made an unique sound in his throat, and the horses pressed their shoulders + into the collars. Linder glanced back to see each wagon or implement take + up the slack with a jerk like the cars of a freight train; the cushioned + rumble of wagon wheels on the soft earth, and the noisy chatter of the + steel teeth of the hay-rakes came up from the rear. Transley’s “outfit” + was under way. + </p> + <p> + Transley was a contractor; a master of men and of circumstances. Six weeks + before, the suspension of a grading order had left him high and dry, with + a dozen men and as many teams on his hands and hired for the season. + Transley galloped all that night into the foothills; when he returned next + evening he had a contract with the Y.D. to cut all the hay from the ranch + buildings to The Forks. By some deft touch of those financial strings on + which he was one day to become so skilled a player Transley converted his + dump scrapers into mowing machines, and three days later his outfit was at + work in the upper reaches of the Y.D. + </p> + <p> + The contract had been decidedly profitable. Not an hour of broken weather + had interrupted the operations, and to-day, with two thousand tons of hay + in stack, Transley was moving down to the headquarters of the Y.D. The + trail lay along a broad valley, warded on either side by ranges of + foothills; hills which in any other country would have been dignified by + the name of mountains. From their summits the grey-green up-tilted + limestone protruded, whipped clean of soil by the chinooks of centuries. + Here and there on their northern slopes hung a beard of scrub timber; + sharp gulleys cut into their fastnesses to bring down the turbulent waters + of their snows. + </p> + <p> + Some miles to the left of the trail lay the bed of the Y.D., fringed with + poplar and cottonwood and occasional dark green splashes of spruce. Beyond + the bed of the Y.D., beyond the foothills that looked down upon it, hung + the mountains themselves, their giant crests pitched like mighty tents + drowsing placidly between earth and heaven. Now their four o’clock veil of + blue-purple mist lay filmed about their shoulders, but later they would + stand out in bold silhouette cutting into the twilight sky. Everywhere was + the soft smell of new-mown hay; everywhere the silences of the eternal, + broken only by the muffled noises of Transley’s outfit trailing down to + the Y.D. + </p> + <p> + Linder, foreman and head teamster, cushioned his shoulders against his + half load of hay and contemplated the scene with amiable satisfaction. The + hay fields of the foothills had been a pleasant change from the railway + grades of the plains below. Men and horses had fattened and grown content, + and the foreman had reason to know that Transley’s bank account had + profited by the sudden shift in his operations. Linder felt in his pocket + for pipe and matches; then, with a frown, withdrew his fingers. He himself + had laid down the law that there must be no smoking in the hay fields. A + carelessly dropped match might in an hour nullify all their labor. + </p> + <p> + Linder’s frown had scarce vanished when hoof-beats pounded by the side of + his wagon, and a rider, throwing himself lightly from his horse, dropped + beside him in the hay. + </p> + <p> + “Thought I’d ride with you a spell, Lin. That Pete-horse acts like he was + goin’ sore on the off front foot. Chuck at the Y.D. to-night?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what Transley says, George, and he knows.” + </p> + <p> + “Ever et at the Y.D?” + </p> + <p> + “Nope.” + </p> + <p> + “Know old Y.D?” + </p> + <p> + “Only to know his name is good on a cheque, and they say he still throws a + good rope.” + </p> + <p> + George wriggled to a more comfortable position in the hay. He had a + feeling that he was approaching a delicate subject with consummate skill. + After a considerable silence he continued— + </p> + <p> + “They say that’s quite a girl old Y.D.‘s got.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Linder, slowly. The occasion of the soreness in that + Pete-horse’s off front foot was becoming apparent. + </p> + <p> + “You better stick to Pete,” Linder continued. “Women is most uncertain + critters.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t I know it?” chuckled George, poking the foreman’s ribs + companionably with his elbow. “Don’t I know it?” he repeated, as his mind + apparently ran back over some reminiscence that verified Linder’s remark. + It was evident from the pleasant grimaces of George’s face that whatever + he had suffered from the uncertain sex was forgiven. + </p> + <p> + “Say, Lin,” he resumed after another pause, and this time in a more + confidential tone, “do you s’pose Transley’s got a notion that way?” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn’t wonder. Transley always knows what he’s doing, and why. Y.D. + must be worth a million or so, and the girl is all he’s got to leave it + to. Besides all that, no doubt she’s well worth having on her own + account.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m sorry for the boss,” George replied, with great soberness. “I + alus hate to disappoint the boss.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” said Linder. He knew George Drazk too well for further comment. + After his unlimited pride in and devotion to his horse, George gave his + heart unreservedly to womankind. He suffered from no cramping niceness in + his devotions; that would have limited the play of his passion; to him all + women were alike—or nearly so. And no number of rebuffs could + convince George that he was unpopular with the objects of his democratic + affections. Such a conclusion was, to him, too absurd to be entertained, + no matter how many experiences might support it. If opportunity offered he + doubtless would propose to Y.D.‘s daughter that very night—and get a + boxed ear for his pains. + </p> + <p> + The Y.D. creek had crossed its valley, shouldering close against the base + of the foothills to the right. Here the current had created a precipitous + cutbank, and to avoid it and the stream the trail wound over the side of + the hill. As they crested a corner the silver ribbon of the Y.D. was + unravelled before them, and half a dozen miles down its course the ranch + buildings lay clustered in a grove of cottonwoods and evergreens. All the + great valley lay warm and pulsating in a flood of yellow sunshine; the + very earth seemed amorous and content in the embrace of sun and sky. The + majesty of the view seized even the unpoetic souls of Linder and Drazk, + and because they had no other means of expression they swore vaguely and + relapsed into silence. + </p> + <p> + Hoof-beats again sounded by the wagon side. It was Transley. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here you are, Drazk. How long do you reckon it would take you to ride + down to the Y.D. on that Pete-horse?” Transley was a leader of men. + </p> + <p> + Drazk’s eyes sparkled at the subtle compliment to his horse. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, Boss,” he said, “if there’s any jackrabbits in the road + they’ll get tramped on.” + </p> + <p> + “I bet they will,” said Transley, genially. “Well, you just slide down and + tell Y.D. we’re coming in. She’s going to be later than I figured, but I + can’t hurry the work horses. You know that, Drazk.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure I do, Boss,” said Drazk, springing into his saddle. “Just watch me + lose myself in the dust.” Then, to himself, “Here’s where I beat the boss + to it.” + </p> + <p> + The sun had fallen behind the mountains, the valley was filled with + shadow, the afterglow, mauve and purple and copper, was playing far up the + sky when Transley’s outfit reached the Y.D. corrals. George Drazk had + opened the gate and waited beside it. + </p> + <p> + “Y.D. wants you an’ Linder to eat with him at the house,” he said as + Transley halted beside him. “The rest of us eat in the bunk-house.” There + was something strangely modest in Drazk’s manner. + </p> + <p> + “Had yours handed to you already?” Linder managed to banter in a low voice + as they swung through the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Hell!” protested Mr. Drazk. “A fellow that ain’t a boss or a foreman + don’t get a look-in. Never even seen her.... Come, you Pete-horse!” It was + evident George had gone back to his first love. + </p> + <p> + The wagons drew up in the yard, and there was a fine jingle of harness as + the teamsters quickly unhitched. Y.D. himself approached through the dusk; + his large frame and confident bearing were unmistakable even in that group + of confident, vigorous men. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you, Transley,” he said cordially. “You done well out there. + ‘So, Linder! You made a good job of it. Come up to the house—I + reckon the Missus has supper waitin’. We’ll find a room for you up there, + too; it’s different from bein’ under canvas.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, and turning the welfare of the men and the horses over to his + foreman, the rancher led Transley and Linder along a path through a grove + of cottonwoods, across a footbridge where from underneath came the babble + of water, to “the house,” marked by a yellow light which poured through + the windows and lost itself in the shadow of the trees. + </p> + <p> + The nucleus of the house was the log cabin where Y.D. and his wife had + lived in their first married years. With the passage of time additions had + been built to every side which offered a point of contact, but the log + cabin still remained the family centre, and into it Transley and Linder + were immediately admitted. The poplar floor had long since worn thin, save + at the knots, and had been covered with edge-grained fir, but otherwise + the cabin stood as it had for twenty years, the white-washed logs glowing + in the light of two bracket lamps and the reflections from a wood fire + which burned merrily in the stove. The skins of a grizzly bear and a + timber wolf lay on the floor, and two moose heads looked down from + opposite ends of the room. On the walls hung other trophies won by Y.D.‘s + rifle, along with hand-made bits of harness, lariats, and other insignia + of the ranchman’s trade. + </p> + <p> + The rancher took his guests’ hats, and motioned each to a seat. “Mother,” + he said, directing his voice into an adjoining room, “here’s the boys.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment “Mother” appeared drying her hands. In her appearance were + courage, resourcefulness, energy,—fit mate for the man who had made + the Y.D. known in every big cattle market of the country. As Linder’s eye + caught her and her husband in the same glance his mind involuntarily leapt + to the suggestion of what the offspring of such a pair must be. The men of + the cattle country have a proper appreciation of heredity.... + </p> + <p> + “My wife—Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder,” said the rancher, with a + courtliness which sat strangely on his otherwise rough-and-ready speech. + “I been tellin’ her the fine job you boys has made in the hay fields, an’ + I reckon she’s got a bite of supper waitin’ you.” + </p> + <p> + “Y.D. has been full of your praises,” said the woman. There was a touch of + culture in her manner as she received them, which Y.D.‘s hospitality did + not disclose. + </p> + <p> + She led them into another room, where a table was set for five. Linder + experienced a tang of happy excitement as he noted the number. Linder + allowed himself no foolishness about women, but, as he sometimes sagely + remarked to George Drazk, you never can tell what might happen. He shot a + quick glance at Transley, but the contractor’s face gave no sign. Even as + he looked Linder thought what an able face it was. Transley was not more + than twenty-six, but forcefulness, assertion, ability, stood in every line + of his clean-cut features. He was such a man as to capture at a blow the + heart of old Y.D., perhaps of Y.D.‘s daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Where’s Zen?” demanded the rancher. + </p> + <p> + “She’ll be here presently,” his wife replied. “We don’t have Mr. Transley + and Mr. Linder every night, you know,” she added, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Dolling up,” thought Linder. “Trust a woman never to miss a bet.” + </p> + <p> + But at that moment a door opened, and the girl appeared. She did not burst + upon them, as Linder had half expected; she slipped quietly and gracefully + into their presence. She was dressed in black, in a costume which did not + too much conceal the charm of her figure, and the nut-brown lustre of her + face and hair played against the sober background of her dress with an + effect that was almost dazzling. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter, Zen,” said Y.D. “Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder.” + </p> + <p> + She shook hands frankly, first with Transley, then with Linder, as had + been the order of the introduction. In her manner was neither the shyness + which sometimes marks the women of remote settlements, nor the boldness so + readily bred of outdoor life. She gave the impression of one who has + herself, and the situation, in hand. + </p> + <p> + “We’re always glad to have guests at the Y.D.” she was saying. “We live so + far from everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + Linder thought that a strange peg on which to hang their welcome. But she + was continuing— + </p> + <p> + “And you have been so successful, haven’t you? You have made quite a hit + with Dad.” + </p> + <p> + “How about Dad’s daughter?” asked Transley. Transley had a manner of + direct and forceful action. These were his first words to her. Linder + would not have dared be so precipitate. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” thought Linder to himself, as he turned the incident over in + his mind, “perhaps that is why Transley is boss, and I’m just foreman.” + The young woman’s behavior seemed to support that conclusion. She did not + answer Transley’s question, but she gave no evidence of displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “You boys must be hungry,” Y.D. was saying. “Pile in.” + </p> + <p> + The rancher and his wife sat at the ends of the table; Transley on the + side at Y.D.‘s right; Linder at Transley’s right. In the better light + Linder noted Y.D.‘s face. It was the face of a man of fifty, possibly + sixty. Life in the open plays strange tricks with the appearance. Some men + it ages before their time; others seem to tap a spring of perpetual youth. + Save for the grey moustache and the puckerings about the eyes Y.D.‘s was + still a young man’s face. Then, as the rancher turned his head, Linder + noted a long scar, as of a burn, almost grown over in the right cheek.... + Across the table from them sat the girl, impartially dividing her position + between the two. + </p> + <p> + A Chinese boy served soup, and the rancher set the example by “piling in” + without formality. Eight hours in the open air between meals is a powerful + deterrent of table small-talk. Then followed a huge joint of beef, from + which Y.D. cut generous slices with swift and dexterous strokes of a great + knife, and the Chinese boy added the vegetables from a side table. As the + meat disappeared the call of appetite became less insistent. + </p> + <p> + “She’s been a great summer, ain’t she?” said the rancher, laying down his + knife and fork and lifting the carver. “Transley, some more meat? Pshaw, + you ain’t et enough for a chicken. Linder? That’s right, pass up your + plate. Powerful dry, though. That’s only a small bit; here’s a better + slice here. Dry summers gen’rally mean open winters, but you can’t never + tell. Zen, how ‘bout you? Old Y.D.‘s been too long on the job to take + chances. Mother? How much did you say, Transley? About two thousand tons? + Not enough. Don’t care if I do,”—helping himself to another piece of + beef. + </p> + <p> + “I think you’ll find two thousand tons, good hay and good measurement,” + said Transley. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure of it,” rejoined his host, generously. “I’m carryin’ more steers + than usual, and’ll maybe run in a bunch of doggies from Manitoba to boot. + I got to have more hay.” + </p> + <p> + So the meal progressed, the rancher furnishing both the hospitality and + the conversation. Transley occasionally broke in to give assent to some + remark, but his interruption was quite unnecessary. It was Y.D.‘s practice + to take assent for granted. Once or twice the women interjected a lead to + a different subject of conversation in which their words would have + carried greater authority, but Y.D. instantly swung it back to the + all-absorbing topic of hay. + </p> + <p> + The Chinese boy served a pudding of some sort, and presently the meal was + ended. + </p> + <p> + “She’s been a dry summer—powerful dry,” said the rancher, with a + wink at his guests. “Zen, I think there’s a bit of gopher poison in there + yet, ain’t there?” + </p> + <p> + The girl left the room without remark, returning shortly with a jug and + glasses, which she placed before her father. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you wear a man’s size, Transley,” he said, pouring out a big + drink of brown liquor, despite Transley’s deprecating hand. “Linder, how + many fingers? Two? Well, we’ll throw in the thumb. Y.D? If you please, + just a little snifter. All set?” + </p> + <p> + The rancher rose to his feet, and the company followed his example. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s ho!—and more hay,” he said, genially. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” said Linder. + </p> + <p> + “The daughter of the Y.D!” said Transley, looking across the table at the + girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white teeth, she raised + an empty glass and clinked it against his. + </p> + <p> + The men drained their glasses and re-seated themselves, but the women + remained standing. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you will excuse us now,” said the rancher’s wife. “You will wish + to talk over business. Y.D. will show you upstairs, and we will expect you + to be with us for breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + With a bow she left the room, followed by her daughter. Linder had a sense + of being unsatisfied; it was as though a ravishing meal has been placed + before a hungry man, and only its aroma had reached his senses when it had + been taken away. Well, it provoked the appetite— + </p> + <p> + The rancher re-filled the glasses, but Transley left his untouched, and + Linder did the same. There were business matters to discuss, and it was no + fair contest to discuss business in the course of a drinking bout with an + old stager like Y.D. + </p> + <p> + “I got to have another thousand tons,” the rancher was saying. “Can’t take + chances on any less, and I want you boys to put it up for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Suits me,” said Transley, “if you’ll show me where to get the hay.” + </p> + <p> + “You know the South Y.D?” + </p> + <p> + “Never been on it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s a branch of the Y.D. which runs south-east from The Forks. + Guess it got its name from me, because I built my first cabin at The + Forks. That was about the time you was on a milk diet, Transley, and us + old-timers had all outdoors to play with. You see, the Y.D. is a + cantank’rous stream, like its godfather. At The Forks you’d nat’rally + suppose is where two branches joined, an’ jogged on henceforth in double + harness. Well, that ain’t it at all. This crick has modern ideas, an’ at + The Forks it divides itself into two, an’ she hikes for the Gulf o’ Mexico + an’ him for Hudson’s Bay. As I was sayin’, I built my first cabin at The + Forks—a sort o’ peek-a-boo cabin it was, where the wolves usta come + an’ look in at nights. Well, I usta look out through the same holes. I had + the advantage o’ usin’ language, an’ I reckon we was about equal scared. + There was no wife or kid in those days.” + </p> + <p> + The rancher paused, took a long draw on his pipe, and his eyes glowed with + the light of old recollections. + </p> + <p> + “Well, as I was sayin’,” he continued presently, “folks got to callin’ the + stream the Y.D., after me. That’s what you get for bein’ first on the + ground—a monument for ever an ever. This bein’ the main stream got + the name proper, an’ the other branch bein’ smallest an’ running kind o’ + south nat’rally got called the South Y.D. I run stock in both valleys when + I was at The Forks, but not much since I came down here. Well, there’s + maybe a thousand tons o’ hay over in the South Y.D., an’ you boys better + trail over there to-morrow an’ pitch into it—that is, if you’re + satisfied with the price I’m payin’ you.” + </p> + <p> + “The price is all right,” said Transley, “and we’ll hit the trail at + sun-up. There’ll be no trouble—no confliction of interests, I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Whose interests?” demanded the rancher, beligerently. “Ain’t I the father + of the Y.D? Ain’t the whole valley named for me? When it comes to + interests—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” Transley agreed, “but I just wanted to know how things stood + in case we ran up against something. It’s not like the old days, when a + rancher would rather lose twenty-five per cent. of his stock over winter + than bother putting up hay. Hay land is getting to be worth money, and I + just want to know where we stand.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite proper,” said Y.D., “quite proper. An’ now the matter’s under + discussion, I’ll jus’ show you my hand. There’s a fellow named Landson + down the valley of the South Y.D. that’s been flirtin’ with that hay + meadow for years, but he ain’t got no claim to it. I was first on the + ground an’ I cut it whenever I feel like it an’ I’m goin’ to go on cuttin’ + it. If anybody comes out raisin’ trouble, you just shoo ‘em off, an’ go on + cuttin’ that hay, spite o’ hell an’ high water. Y.D.‘ll stand behind you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” said Transley. “That’s what I wanted to know.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The rancher had ridden into the Canadian plains country from below “the + line” long before barbed wire had become a menace in cattle-land. From + Pincher Creek to Maple Creek, and far beyond, the plains lay unbroken save + by the deep canyons where, through the process of ages, mountain streams + had worn their beds down to gravel bottoms, and by the occasional trail + which wandered through the wilderness like some thousand-mile lariat + carelessly dropped from the hand of the Master Plainsman. Here and there, + where the cutbanks of the river Canyons widened out into sloping valleys, + affording possible access to the deep-lying streams, some ranchman had + established his headquarters, and his red-roofed, whitewashed buildings + flashed back the hot rays which fell from an opalescent heaven. At some of + the more important fords trading posts had come into being, whither the + ranchmen journeyed twice a year for groceries, clothing, kerosene, and + other liquids handled as surreptitiously as the vigilance of the Mounted + Police might suggest. The virgin prairie, with her strange, subtle + facility for entangling the hearts of men, lay undefiled by the mercenary + plowshare; unprostituted by the commercialism of the days that were to be. + </p> + <p> + Into such a country Y.D. had ridden from the South, trailing his little + bunch of scrub heifers, in search of grass and water and, it may be, of a + new environment. Up through the Milk River country; across the Belly and + the Old Man; up and down the valley of the Little Bow, and across the + plains as far as the Big Bow he rode in search of the essentials of a + ranch headquarters. The first of these is water, the second grass, the + third fuel, the fourth shelter. Grass there was everywhere; a fine, short, + hairy crop which has the peculiar quality of self-curing in the autumn + sunshine and so furnishing a natural, uncut hay for the herds in the + winter months. Water there was only where the mountain streams plowed + their canyons through the deep subsoil, or at little lakes of surface + drainage, or, at rare intervals, at points where pure springs broke forth + from the hillsides. Along the river banks dark, crumbling seams exposed + coal resources which solved all questions of fuel, and fringes of + cottonwood and poplar afforded rough but satisfactory building material. + As the rancher sat on his horse on a little knoll which overlooked a + landscape leading down on one side to a sheltering bluff by the river, and + on the other losing itself on the rim of the heavens, no fairer prospect + surely could have met his eye. + </p> + <p> + And yet he was not entirely satisfied. He was looking for no temporary + location, but for a spot where he might drive his claim-stakes deep. That + prairie, which stretched under the hot sunshine unbroken to the rim of + heaven; that brown grass glowing with an almost phosphorescent light as it + curled close to the mother sod;—a careless match, a cigar stub, a + bit of gun-wadding, and in an afternoon a million acres of pasture land + would carry not enough foliage to feed a gopher. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. turned in his saddle. Along the far western sky hung the purple + draperies of the Rockies. For fifty miles eastward from the mighty range + lay the country of the foothills, its great valleys lost to the vision + which leapt only from summit to summit. In the clear air the peaks + themselves seemed not a dozen miles away, but Y.D. had not ridden cactus, + sagebrush and prairie from the Rio Grande to the St. Mary’s for twenty + years to be deceived by a so transparent illusion. Far over the plains his + eye could trace the dark outline of a trail leading mountainward. + </p> + <p> + The heifers drowsed lazily in the brown grass. Y.D., shading his eyes the + better with his hand, gazed long and thoughtfully at the purple range. + Then he spat decisively over his horse’s shoulder and made a strange + “cluck” in his throat. The knowing animal at once set out on a trot to + stir the lazy heifers into movement, and presently they were trailing + slowly up into the foothill country. + </p> + <p> + Far up, where the trail ahead apparently dropped over the end of the + world, a horse and rider hove in view. They came on leisurely, and half an + hour elapsed before they met the rancher trailing west. + </p> + <p> + The stranger was a rancher of fifty, wind-whipped and weather-beaten of + countenance. The iron grey of his hair and moustache suggested the iron of + the man himself; iron of figure, of muscle, of will. + </p> + <p> + “‘Day,” he said, affably, coming to a halt a few feet from Y.D. “Trailing + into the foothills?” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. lolled in his saddle. His attitude did not invite conversation, and, + on the other hand, intimated no desire to avoid it. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe,” he said, noncommittally. Then, relaxing somewhat,—“Any + water farther up?” + </p> + <p> + “About eight miles. Sundown should see you there, and there’s a decent + spot to camp. You’re a stranger here?” The older man was evidently + puzzling over the big “Y.D.” branded on the ribs of the little herd. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a big country,” Y.D. answered. “It’s a plumb big country, for sure, + an’ I guess a man can be a stranger in some corners of it, can’t he?” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. began to resent the other man’s close scrutiny of his brand. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what’s wrong with it?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing. No offense. I just wondered what ‘Y.D.’ might stand for.” + </p> + <p> + “Might stand for Yankee devil,” said Y.D., with a none-of-your-business + curl of his lip. But he had carried his curtness too far, and was not + prepared for the quick retort. + </p> + <p> + “Might also stand for yellow dog, and be damned to you!” The stranger’s + strong figure sat up stern and knit in his saddle. + </p> + <p> + Y.D.‘s hand went to his hip, but the other man was unarmed. You can’t draw + on a man who isn’t armed. + </p> + <p> + “Listen!” the older man continued, in sharp, clear-cut notes. “You are a + stranger not only to our trails, but our customs. You are a young man. Let + me give you some advice. First—get rid of that artillery. It will do + you more harm than good. And second, when a stranger speaks to you + civilly, answer him the same. My name is Wilson—Frank Wilson, and if + you settle in the foothills you’ll find me a decent neighbor, as soon as + you are able to appreciate decency.” + </p> + <p> + To his own great surprise, Y.D. took his dressing down in silence. There + was a poise in Wilson’s manner that enforced respect. He recognized in him + the English rancher of good family; usually a man of fine courtesy within + reasonable bounds; always a hard hitter when those bounds are exceeded. + Y.D. knew that he had made at least a tactical blunder; his sensitiveness + about his brand would arouse, rather than allay, suspicion. His cheeks + burned with a heat not of the afternoon sun as he submitted to this + unaccustomed discipline, but he could not bring himself to express regret + for his rudeness. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now that the shower is over, we’ll move on,” he said, turning his + back on Wilson and “clucking” to his horse. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. followed the stream which afterwards bore his name as far as the + Upper Forks. As he entered the foothills he found all the advantages of + the plains below, with others peculiar to the foothill country. The richer + herbage, induced by a heavier precipitation; the occasional belts of + woodland; the rugged ravines and limestone ridges affording good natural + protection against fire; abundant fuel and water everywhere—these + seemed to constitute the ideal ranch conditions. At the Upper Forks, + through some freak of formation, the stream divided into two. From this + point was easy access into the valleys of the Y.D. and the South Y.D., as + they were subsequently called. The stream rippled over beds of grey + gravel, and mountain trout darted from the rancher’s shadow as it fell + across the water. Up the valley, now ruddy gold with the changing colors + of autumn, white-capped mountains looked down from amid the infinite + silences; and below, broad vistas of brown prairie and silver ribbons of + running water. Y.D. turned his swarthy face to the sunlight and took in + the scene slowly, deliberately, but with a commercialized eye; blue and + white and ruddy gold were nothing to him; his heart was set on grass and + water and shelter. He had roved enough, and he had a reason for seeking + some secluded spot like this, where he could settle down while his herds + grew up, and, perhaps, forget some things that were better forgotten. + </p> + <p> + With sudden decision the cattle man threw himself from his horse, + unstrapped the little kit of supplies which he carried by the saddle; drew + off saddle and bridle and turned the animal free. The die was cast; this + was the spot. Within ten minutes his ax was ringing in the grove of spruce + trees close by, and the following night he fried mountain trout under the + shelter of his own temporary roof. + </p> + <p> + It was the next summer when Y.D. had another encounter with Wilson. The + Upper Forks turned out to be less secluded than he had supposed; it was on + the trail of trappers and prospectors working into the mountains. Traders, + too, in mysterious commodities, moved mysteriously back and forth, and the + log cabin at The Forks became something of a centre of interest. Strange + companies forgathered within its rude walls. + </p> + <p> + It was at such a gathering, in which Y.D. and three companions sat about + the little square table, that one of the visitors facetiously inquired of + the rancher how his herd was progressing. + </p> + <p> + “Not so bad, not so bad,” said Y.D., casually. “Some winter losses, of + course; snow’s too deep this far up. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, some of your neighbors down the valley say your cows are uncommon + prolific.” + </p> + <p> + “They do?” said Y.D., laying down his cards. “Who says that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Wilson, for instance—” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. sprang to his feet. “I’ve had one run-in with that ——,” + he shouted, “an’ I let him talk to me like a Sunday School super’ntendent. + Here’s where I talk to him!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, finish the game first,” the others protested. “The night’s young.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. was sufficiently drunk to be supersensitive about his honor, and the + inference from Wilson’s remark was that he was too handy with his + branding-iron. + </p> + <p> + “No, boys, no!” he protested. “I’ll make that Englishman eat his words or + choke on them.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s right,” the company agreed. “The only thing to do. We’ll all go + down with you.” + </p> + <p> + “An’ you won’t do that, neither,” Y.D. answered. “Think I need a + body-guard for a little chore like that? Huh!” There was immeasurable + contempt in that monosyllable. + </p> + <p> + But a fresh bottle was produced, and Y.D. was persuaded that his honor + would suffer no serious damage until the morning. Before that time his + company, with many demonstrations of affection and admonitions to “make a + good job of it,” left for the mountains. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. saddled his horse early, buckled his gun on his hip, hung a lariat + from his saddle, and took the trail for the Wilson ranch. During the + drinking and gambling of the night he had been able to keep the insult in + the background, but, alone under the morning sun, it swept over him and + stung him to fury. There was just enough truth in the report to demand its + instant suppression. + </p> + <p> + Wilson was branding calves in his corral as Y.D. came up. He was alone + save for a girl of eighteen who tended the fire. + </p> + <p> + Wilson looked up with a hot iron in his hand, nodded, then turned to apply + the iron before it cooled. As he leaned over the calf Y.D. swung his + lariat. It fell true over the Englishman, catching him about the arms and + the middle of the body. Y.D. took a half-hitch of the lariat about his + saddle horn, and the well-trained horse dragged his victim in the most + matter-of-fact manner out of the gate of the corral and into the open. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. shortened the line. After the first moment of confused surprise + Wilson tried to climb to his feet, but a quick jerk of the lariat sent him + prostrate again. In a moment Y.D. had taken up all the line, and sat in + his saddle looking down contemptuously upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “who’s too handy with his branding-iron now?” + </p> + <p> + “You are!” cried Wilson. “Give me a man’s chance and I’ll thrash you here + and now to prove it.” + </p> + <p> + For answer Y.D. clucked to his horse and dragged his enemy a few yards + farther. “How’s the goin’, Frank?” he said, in mock cordiality. “Think you + can stand it as far as the crick?” + </p> + <p> + But at that instant an unexpected scene flashed before Y.D. He caught just + a glimpse of it—just enough to indicate what might happen. The girl + who had been tending the fire was rushing upon him with a red-hot iron + extended before her. Quicker than he could throw himself from the saddle + she had struck him in the face with it. + </p> + <p> + “You brand our calves!” she cried in a fury of recklessness. “I’ll brand + YOU—damn you!” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. threw himself from the saddle, but in the suddenness of her onslaught + he failed to clear it properly, and stumbled to the ground. In a moment + she was on him and had whipped his gun from his belt. + </p> + <p> + “Get up!” she said. And he got up. + </p> + <p> + “Walk to that post, put your arms around it with your back to me, and + stand there.” He did so. + </p> + <p> + The girl kept him covered with the revolver while she released the lariat + that bound her father. + </p> + <p> + “Are you hurt, Dad?” she inquired solicitously. + </p> + <p> + “No, just shaken up,” he answered, scrambling to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “All right. Now we’ll fix him!” + </p> + <p> + The girl walked to the next post from Y.D.‘s, climbed it leisurely and + seated herself on the top. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Mr. Y.D.,” she said, “you are going to fight like a white man, with + your fists. I’ll sit up here and see that there’s no dirty work. First, + advance and shake hands.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m damned if I will,” said Y.D. + </p> + <p> + The revolver spoke, and the bullet cut dangerously close to him. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk back to me again,” she cried, “or you won’t be able to fight. + Now shake hands.” + </p> + <p> + He extended his hand and Wilson took it for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Now when I count three,” said the girl, “pile in. There’s no time limit. + Fight ‘til somebody’s satisfied. One—two—three—” + </p> + <p> + At the sound of the last word Wilson caught his opponent a punch on the + chin which stretched him. He got up slowly, gathering his wits about him. + He was twenty years younger than Wilson, but a rancher of fifty is + occasionally a better man than he was at thirty. Any disadvantages Wilson + suffered from being shaken up in the lariat were counterbalanced by Y.D.‘s + branding. His face was burning painfully, and his vision was not the best. + But he had not followed the herds since childhood without learning to use + his fists. He steadied himself on his knee to bring his mind into tune + with this unusual warfare. Then he rushed upon Wilson. + </p> + <p> + He received another straight knock-out on the chin. It jarred the joints + of his neck and left him dazed. It was half a minute before he could + steady himself. He realized now that he had a fight on his hands. He was + too cool a head to get into a panic, but he found he must take his time + and do some brain work. Another chin smash would put him out for good. + </p> + <p> + He advanced carefully. Wilson stood awaiting him, a picture of poise and + self-confidence. Y.D. led a quick left to Wilson’s ribs, but failed to + land. Wilson parried skilfully and immediately answered with a left swing + to the chin. But Y.D. was learning, and this time he was on guard. He + dodged the blow, broke in and seized Wilson about the body. The two men + stood for a moment like bulls with locked horns. Y.D. brought his weight + to bear on his antagonist to force him to the ground, but in some way the + Englishman got elbow room and began raining short jabs on his face, + already raw from the branding-iron. Y.D. jerked back from this assault. + Then came the third smash on the chin. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. gathered himself up very slowly. The world was swimming around in + circles. On a post sat a girl, covering him with a revolver and laughing + at him. Somewhere on the horizon Wilson’s figure whipped forward and back. + Then his horse came into the circle. Y.D. rose to his feet, strode with + quick, uncertain steps to his horse, threw himself into the saddle and + without a word started up the trail to The Forks. + </p> + <p> + “Seems to have gone with as little ceremony as he came,” Wilson remarked + to his daughter. “Now, let us get along with the calves.”... + </p> + <p> + Y.D. rode the trail to The Forks in bitterness of spirit. He had sallied + forth that morning strong and daring to administer summary punishment; he + was retracing his steps thrashed, humiliated, branded for life by a red + iron thrust in his face by a slip of a girl. He exhausted his by no means + limited vocabulary of epithets, but even his torrents of abuse brought no + solace to him. The hot sun beat down on his wounded face and hurt + terribly, but he almost forgot that pain in the agony of his humiliation. + He had been thrashed by an old man, with a wisp of a girl sitting on a + post and acting as referee. He turned in his saddle and through the empty + valley shouted an insulting name at her. + </p> + <p> + Then Y.D. slowly began to feel his face burn with a fire not of the + branding-iron nor of the afternoon sun. He knew that his word was a lie. + He knew that he would not have dared use it in her father’s hearing. He + knew that he was a coward. No man had ever called Y.D. a coward; no man + had ever known him for a coward; he had never known himself as such—until + to-day. With all his roughness Y.D. had a sense of honor as keen as any + razor blade. If he allowed himself wide latitude in some matters it was + because he had lived his life in an atmosphere where the wide latitude was + the thing. The prairie had been his bed, the sky his roof, himself his own + policeman, judge, and executioner since boyhood. When responsibility is so + centralized wide latitudes must be allowed. But the uttermost borders of + that latitude were fixed with iron rigidity, and when he had thrown a vile + epithet at a decent woman he knew he had broken the law of honor. He was a + cur—a cur who should be shot in his tracks for the cur he was. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. did hard thinking all the way to The Forks. Again and again the + figure of the girl flashed before him; he would close his eyes and jerk + his head back to avoid the burning iron. Then he saw her on the post, + sitting, with apparent impartiality, on guard over the fight. Yes, she had + been impartial, in a way. Y.D. was willing to admit that much, although he + surmised that she knew more about her father’s prowess with his fists than + he had known. She had had no doubt about the outcome. + </p> + <p> + “Well, she’s good backing for her old man, anyway,” he admitted, with + returning generosity. He had reached his cabin, and was dressing his face + with salve and soda. “She sure played the game into the old man’s hand.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. could not sleep that night. He was busy sorting up his ideas of life + and revising them in the light of the day’s experience. The more he + thought of his behavior the less defensible it appeared. By midnight he + was admitting that he had got just what was coming to him. + </p> + <p> + Presently he began to feel lonely. It was a strange sensation to Y.D., + whose life had been loneliness from the first, so that he had never known + it. Of course, there was the hunger for companionship; he had often known + that. A drinking bout, a night at cards, a whirl into excess, and that + would pass away. But this loneliness was different. The moan of the wind + in the spruce trees communicated itself to him with an eerie + oppressiveness. He sat up and lit a lamp. The light fell on the bare logs + of his hut; he had never known before how bare they were. He got up and + shuffled about; took a lid off the stove and put it back on again; moved + aimlessly about the room, and at last sat down on the bed. + </p> + <p> + “Y.D.,” he said with a laugh, “I believe you’ve got nerves. You’re + behavin’ like a woman.” + </p> + <p> + But he could not laugh it off. The mention of a woman brought Wilson’s + daughter back vividly before him. “She’s a man’s girl,” he found himself, + saying. + </p> + <p> + He sat up with a shock at his own words. Then he rested his chin on his + hands and gazed long at the blank wall before him. That was life—his + life. That blank wall was his life.... If only it had a window in it; a + bright space through which the vision could catch a glimpse of something + broader and better.... Well, he could put a window in it. He could put a + window in his life. + </p> + <p> + The next noon Frank Wilson looked up with surprise to see Y.D. riding into + his yard. Wilson stiffened instantly, as though setting himself against + the shock of an attack, but there was nothing belligerent in Y.D.‘s + greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Wilson,” he said, “I pulled a dirty trick on you yesterday, an’ I got + more than I reckoned on. The old Y.D. would have come back with a gun for + vengeance. Well, I ain’t after vengeance. I reckon you an’ me has got to + live in this valley, an’ we might as well live peaceful. Does that go with + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Full weight and no shrinkage,” said Wilson, heartily, extending his hand. + “Come up to the house for dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. was nothing loth to accept the invitation, even though he had his + misgivings as to how he should meet the women folks. It turned out that + Mrs. Wilson had been at a neighboring ranch for some days, and the girl + was in charge of the home. The flash in her eyes did not conceal a glint + of triumph—or was it humor? + </p> + <p> + “Jessie,” her father said, with conspicuous matter-of-factness, “Y.D. has + just dropped in for dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. stood with his hat in his hand. This was harder than meeting Wilson. + He felt that he could manage better if Wilson would get out. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Wilson,” he managed to say at length, “I just thought I’d run in an’ + thank you for what you did yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re very welcome,” she answered, and he could not tell whether the + note in her voice was of fun or sarcasm. “Any time I can be of service—” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I wanted to talk about,” he broke in. There was something + bewitching about the girl. She more than realized his fantastic visions of + the night. She had mastered him. Perhaps it was a subtle masculine desire + to turn her mastery into ultimate surrender that led him on. + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I want to talk about. You started breakin’ in an outlaw + yesterday, so to speak. How’d you like to finish the job?” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. was very red when this speech was finished. He had not known that a + wisp of a girl could so discomfit a man. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a proposal?” she asked, and this time he was sure the note in her + voice was one of banter. “I never had one, so I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, yes, we’ll call it that,” he said, with returning courage. + </p> + <p> + “Well we won’t, either,” she flared back. “Just because I sat on a post + and superintended the—the ceremonies, is no reason that you should + want to marry me,—or I, you. You’ll find water and a basin on the + bench at the end of the house, and dinner will be ready in twenty + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. had a feeling of a little boy being sent to wash himself. + </p> + <p> + But the next spring he built a larger cabin down the valley from The + Forks, and to that cabin one day in June came Jessie Wilson to “finish the + job.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Transley and Linder were so early about on the morning after their + conversation with Y.D. that there was no opportunity of another meeting + with the rancher’s wife or daughter. They were slipping quietly out of the + house to take breakfast with the men when Y.D. intercepted them. + </p> + <p> + “Breakfast is waitin’, boys,” he said, and led them back into the room + where they had had supper the previous evening. Y.D. ate with them, but + the meal was served by the Chinese boy. + </p> + <p> + In the yard all was jingling excitement. The men of the Y.D. were + fraternally assisting Transley’s gang in hitching up and getting away, and + there was much bustling activity to an accompaniment of friendly + profanity. It was not yet six o’clock, but the sun was well up over the + eastern ridges that fringed the valley, and to the west the snow-capped + summits of the mountains shone like polished ivory. The exhilaration in + the air was almost intoxicating. + </p> + <p> + Linder quickly converted the apparent chaos of horses, wagons and + implements into order; Transley had a last word with Y.D., and the + rancher, shouting “Good luck, boys! Make it a thousand tons or more,” + waved them away. + </p> + <p> + Linder glanced back at the house. The bright sunshine had not awakened it; + it lay dreaming in its grove of cool, green trees. + </p> + <p> + The trail lay, not up the valley, but across the wedge of foothills which + divided the South Y.D. from the parent stream. The assent was therefore + much more rapid than the trails which followed the general course of the + stream. Huge hills, shouldering together, left at times only wagon-track + room between; at other places they skirted dangerous cutbanks worn by + spring freshets, and again trekked for long distances over gently curving + uplands. In an hour the horses were showing the strain of it, and Linder + halted them for a momentary rest. + </p> + <p> + It was at that moment that Drazk rode up, his face a study in obvious + annoyance. + </p> + <p> + “Danged if I ain’t left that Pete-horse’s blanket down at the Y.D.,” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, you can easily ride back for it and catch up on us this + afternoon,” said Linder, who was not in the least deceived. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Lin,” said Drazk. “I’ll beat it down an’ catch up on you this + afternoon, sure,” and he was off down the trail as fast as “that + Pete-horse” could carry him. + </p> + <p> + At the Y.D. George conducted the search for his horse blanket in the + strangest places. It took him mainly about the yard of the house, and even + to the kitchen door, where he interviewed the Chinese boy. + </p> + <p> + “You catchee horse blanket around here?” he inquired, with appropriate + gesticulations. + </p> + <p> + “You losee hoss blanket?” + </p> + <p> + “Yep.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind hoss blanket?” + </p> + <p> + “Jus’ a brown blanket for that Pete-horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose hoss?” + </p> + <p> + “Mine,” proudly. + </p> + <p> + “Where you catchee?” + </p> + <p> + “Raised him.” + </p> + <p> + “Good hoss?” + </p> + <p> + “You betcha.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” + </p> + <p> + Pause. + </p> + <p> + “You no catchee horse blanket, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” said the Chinaman, whose manner instantly changed. In this brief + conversation he had classified Drazk, and classified him correctly. “You + catchee him, though—some hell, too—you stickee lound here. + Beat it,” and Drazk found the kitchen door closed in his face. + </p> + <p> + Drazk wandered slowly around the side of the house, and was not above a + surreptitious glance through the windows. They revealed nothing. He + followed a path out by a little gate. His ruse had proven a blind trail, + and there was nothing to do but go down to the stables, take the horse + blanket from the peg where he had hung it, and set out again for the South + Y.D. + </p> + <p> + As he turned a corner of the fence the sight of a young woman burst upon + him. She was hatless and facing the sun. Drazk, for all his admiration of + the sex, had little eye for detail. “A sort of chestnut, about sixteen + hands high, and with the look of a thoroughbred,” he afterwards described + her to Linder. + </p> + <p> + She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and Drazk instantly summoned a + smirk which set his homely face beaming with good humor. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, ma’am,” he said, with an elaborate bow. “I am Mr. Drazk—Mr. + George Drazk—Mr. Transley’s assistant. No doubt he spoke of me.” + </p> + <p> + She was inside the enclosure formed by the fence, and he outside. She + turned on him eyes which set Drazk’s pulses strangely a-tingle, and + subjected him to a deliberate but not unfriendly inspection. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t believe he did,” she said at length. Drazk cautiously + approached, as though wondering how near he could come without frightening + her away. He reached the fence and leaned his elbows on it. She showed no + disposition to move. He cautiously raised one foot and rested it on the + lower rail. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a fine morning, ma’am,” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” she replied. “Why aren’t you with Mr. Transley’s gang?” + </p> + <p> + The question gave George an opening. “Well, you see,” he said, “it’s all + on account of that Pete-horse. That’s him down there. I rode away this + morning and plumb forgot his blanket. So when Mr. Transley seen it he + says, ‘Drazk, take the day off an’ go back for your blanket,’ he says. + ‘There’s no hurry,’ he says. ‘Linder an’ me’ll manage,’ he says.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “So here I am.” He glanced at her again. She was showing no disposition to + run away. She was about two yards from him, along the fence. Drazk + wondered how long it would take him to bridge that distance. Even as he + looked she leaned her elbows on the fence and rested one of her feet on + the lower rail. Drazk fancied he saw the muscles about her mouth pulling + her face into little, laughing curves, but she was gazing soberly into the + distance. + </p> + <p> + “He’s some horse, that Pete-horse,” he said, taking up the subject which + lay most ready to his tongue. “He’s sure some horse.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yep,” Drazk continued. “Him an’ me has seen some times. Whew! Things I + couldn’t tell you about, at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, aren’t you going to?” + </p> + <p> + Drazk glanced at her curiously. This girl showed signs of leading him out + of his depth. But it was a very delightful sensation to feel one’s self + being led out of his depth by such a girl. Her face was motionless; her + eyes fixed dreamily upon the brown prairies that swept up the flanks of + the foothills to the south. Far and away on their curving crests the dark + snake-line of Transley’s outfit could be seen apparently motionless on the + rim of the horizon. + </p> + <p> + Drazk changed his foot on the rail and the motion brought him six inches + nearer her. + </p> + <p> + “Well, f’r instance,” he said, spurring his imagination into action, + “there was the fellow I run down an’ shot in the Cypress Hills.” + </p> + <p> + “Shot!” she exclaimed, and the note of admiration in her voice stirred him + to further flights. + </p> + <p> + “Yep,” he continued, proudly. “Shot an’ buried him there, right by the + road where he fell. Only me an’ that Pete-horse knows the spot.” + </p> + <p> + George sighed sentimentally. “It’s awful sad, havin’ to kill a man,” he + went on, “an’ it makes you feel strange an’ creepy, ‘specially at nights. + That is, the first one affects you that way, but you soon get used to it. + You see, he insulted—” + </p> + <p> + “The first one? Have you killed more than one?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, lots of them. A man like me, what knocks around all over with all + sorts of people, has to do it. + </p> + <p> + “Then there’s the police. After you kill a few men nat’rally the police + begins to worry you. I always hate to kill a policeman.” + </p> + <p> + “It must be an interesting life.” + </p> + <p> + “It is, but it’s a hard one,” he said, after a pause during which he had + changed feet again and taken up another six inches of the distance which + separated them. He was almost afraid to continue the conversation. He was + finding progress so much easier than he had expected. It was evident that + he had made a tremendous hit with Y.D.‘s daughter. What a story to tell + Linder! What would Transley say? He was shaking with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “It’s an awful hard life,” he went on, “an’ there comes a time, Miss, when + a man wants to quit it. There comes a time when every decent man wants to + settle down. I been thinkin’ about that a lot lately.... What do YOU think + about it?” Drazk had gone white. He felt that he actually had proposed to + her. + </p> + <p> + “Might be a good idea,” she replied, demurely. He changed feet again. He + had gone too far to stop. He must strike the iron when it was hot. Of + course he had no desire to stop, but it was all so wonderful. He could + speak to her now in a whisper. + </p> + <p> + “How about you, Miss? How about you an’ me jus’ settlin’ down?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer for a moment. Then, in a low voice, + </p> + <p> + “It wouldn’t be fair to accept you like this, Mr. Drazk. You don’t know + anything about me.” + </p> + <p> + “An’ I don’t want to—I mean, I don’t care what about you.” + </p> + <p> + “But it wouldn’t be fair until you know,” she continued. “There are things + I’d have to tell you, and I don’t like to.” + </p> + <p> + She was looking downwards now, and he fancied he could see the color + rising about her cheeks and her frame trembling. He turned toward her and + extended his arms. “Tell me—tell your own George,” he cooed. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, with sudden rigidity. “I can’t confess.” + </p> + <p> + “Come on,” he pleaded. “Tell me. I’ve been a bad man, too.” + </p> + <p> + She seemed to be weighing the matter. “If I tell you, you will never, + never mention it to anyone?” + </p> + <p> + “Never. I swear it to you,” dramatically raising his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, looking down bashfully and making little marks with her + finger-nail in the pole on which they were leaning, “I never told anyone + before, and nobody in the world knows it except he and I, and he doesn’t + know it now either, because I killed him.... I had to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you did, dear,” he murmured. It was wonderful to receive a + woman’s confidence like this. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I had to kill him,” she repeated. “You see, he—he proposed to + me without being introduced!” + </p> + <p> + It was some seconds before Drazk felt the blow. It came to him gradually, + like returning consciousness to a man who has been stunned. Then anger + swept him. + </p> + <p> + “You’re playin’ with me,” he cried. “You’re makin’ a fool of me!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, George dear, how could I?” she protested. “Now perhaps you better run + along to that Pete-horse. He looks lonely.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said, striding away angrily. As he walked his rage + deepened, and he turned and shook his fist at her, shouting, “All right, + but I’ll get you yet, see? You think you’re smart, and Transley thinks + he’s smart, but George Drazk is smarter than both of you, and he’ll get + you yet.” + </p> + <p> + She waved her hand complacently, but her composure had already maddened + him. He jerked his horse up roughly, threw himself into the saddle, and + set out at a hard gallop along the trail to the South Y.D. + </p> + <p> + It was mid-afternoon when he overtook Transley’s outfit, now winding down + the southern slope of the tongue of foothills which divided the two + valleys of the Y.D. Pete, wet over the flanks, pulled up of his own accord + beside Linder’s wagon. + </p> + <p> + “‘Lo, George,” said Linder. “What’s your hurry?” Then, glancing at his + saddle, “Where’s your blanket?” + </p> + <p> + Drazk’s jaw dropped, but he had a quick wit, although an unbalanced one. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Lin, I clean forgot all about it,” he admitted, with a laugh, “but + when a fellow spends the morning chatting with old Y.D.‘s daughter I guess + he’s allowed to forget a few things.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Reckon you don’t believe it, eh, Lin? Reckon you don’t believe I stood + an’ talked with her over the fence for so long I just had to pull myself + away?” + </p> + <p> + “You reckon right.” + </p> + <p> + George was thinking fast. Here was an opportunity to present the incident + in a light which had not before occurred to him. + </p> + <p> + “Guess you wouldn’t believe she told me her secret—told me somethin’ + she had never told anybody else, an’ made me swear not to mention. Guess + you don’t believe that, neither?” + </p> + <p> + “You guess right again.” Linder was quite unperturbed. He knew something + of Drazk’s gift for romancing. + </p> + <p> + Drazk leaned over in the saddle until he could reach Linder’s ear with a + loud whisper. “And she called me ‘dear’; ‘George dear,’ she said, when I + came away.” + </p> + <p> + “The hell she did!” said Linder, at last prodded into interest. He + considered the “George dear" idea a daring flight, even for Drazk. “Better + not let old Y.D. hear you spinning anything like that, George, or he’ll be + likely to spoil your youthful beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Y.D.‘s all right,” said George, knowingly. “Y.D.‘s all right. Well, I + guess I’ll let Pete feed a bit here, and then we’ll go back for his + blanket. You’ll have to excuse me a bit these days, Lin; you know how it + is when a fellow’s in love.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh!” said Linder. + </p> + <p> + George dropped behind, and an amused smile played on the foreman’s face. + He had known Drazk too long to be much surprised at anything he might do. + It was Drazk’s idea of gallantry to make love to every girl on sight. + Possibly Drazk had managed to exchange a word with Zen, and his + imagination would readily expand that into a love scene. Zen! Even the + placid, balanced Linder felt a slight leap in the blood at the unusual + name, which to him suggested the bright girl who had come into his life + the night before. Not exactly into his life; it would be fairer to say she + had touched the rim of his life. Perhaps she would never penetrate it + further; Linder rather expected that would be the case. As for Drazk—she + was in no danger from him. Drazk’s methods were so precipitous that they + could be counted upon to defeat themselves. + </p> + <p> + Below stretched the valley of the South Y.D., almost a duplicate of its + northern neighbor. The stream hugged the feet of the hills on the north + side of the valley; its ribbon of green and gold was like a fringe + gathered about the hem of their skirts. Beyond the stream lay the level + plains of the valley, and miles to the south rose the next ridge of + foothills. It was from these interlying plains that Y.D. expected his + thousand tons of hay. There is no sleugh hay in the foothill country; the + hay is cut on the uplands, a short, fine grass of great nutritive value. + This grass, if uncut, cures in its natural state, and affords sustenance + to the herds which graze over it all winter long. But it occasionally + happens that after a snow-fall the Chinook wind will partially melt the + snow, and then a sudden drop in the temperature leaves the prairies and + foothills covered with a thin coating of ice. It is this ice covering, + rather than heavy snow-fall or severe weather, which is the principal + menace to winter grazing, and the foresighted rancher aims to protect + himself and his stock from such a contingency by having a good reserve of + hay in stack. + </p> + <p> + Here, then, was the valley in which Y.D. hoped to supplement the crop of + his own hay lands. Linder’s appreciative eye took in the scene: a scene of + stupendous sizes and magnificent distances. As he slowly turned his vision + down the valley a speck in the distance caught his sight and brought him + to his feet. Shading his eyes from the bright afternoon sun he surveyed it + long and carefully. There was no doubt about it: a haying outfit was + already at work down the valley. + </p> + <p> + Leaving his team to manage themselves Linder dropped from his wagon and + joined Transley. “Some one has beat us to it,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “So I observed,” said Transley. “Well, it’s a big valley, and if they’re + satisfied to stay where they are there should be enough for both. If + they’re not—” + </p> + <p> + “If they’re not, what?” demanded Linder. + </p> + <p> + “You heard what Y.D. said. He said, ‘Cut it, spite o’ hell an’ high + water,’ and I always obey orders.” + </p> + <p> + They wound down the hillside until they came to the stream, the horses + quickening their pace with the smell of water in their eager nostrils. It + was a good ford, broad and shallow, with the typical boulder bottom of the + mountain stream. The horses crowded into it, drinking greedily with a sort + of droning noise caused by the bits in their mouths. When they had + satisfied their thirst they raised their heads, stretched their noses far + out and champed wide-mouthed upon their bits. + </p> + <p> + After a pause in the stream they drew out on the farther bank, where were + open spaces among cottonwood trees, and Transley indicated that this would + be their camping ground. Already smoke was issuing from the chuck wagon, + and in a few minutes the men’s sleeping tent and the two stable tents were + flashing back the afternoon sun. They carried no eating tent; instead of + that an eating wagon was backed up against the chuck wagon, and the men + were served in it. They had not paused for a midday meal; the cook had + provided sandwiches of bread and roast beef to dull the edge of their + appetite, and now all were keen to fall to as soon as the welcome clanging + of the plow-colter which hung from the end of the chuck wagon should give + the signal. + </p> + <p> + Presently this clanging filled the evening air with sweet music, and the + men filed with long, slouchy tread into the eating wagon. The table ran + down the centre, with bench seats at either side. The cook, properly + gauging the men’s appetites, had not taken time to prepare meat and + potatoes, but on the table were ample basins of graniteware filled with + beans and bread and stewed prunes and canned tomatoes, pitchers of syrup + and condensed milk, tins with marmalade and jam, and plates with butter + sadly suffering from the summer heat. The cook filled their granite cups + with hot tea from a granite pitcher, and when the cups were empty filled + them again and again. And when the tables were partly cleared he brought + out deep pies filled with raisins and with evaporated apples and a thick + cake from which the men cut hunks as generous as their appetite suggested. + Transley had learned, what women are said to have learned long ago, that + the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and the cook had carte + blanche. Not a man who ate at Transley’s table but would have spilt his + blood for the boss or for the honor of the gang. + </p> + <p> + The meal was nearing its end when through a window Linder’s eye caught + sight of a man on horseback rapidly approaching. “Visitors, Transley,” he + was able to say before the rider pulled up at the open door of the covered + wagon. + </p> + <p> + He was such a rider as may still be seen in those last depths of the + ranching country where wheels have not entirely crowded Romance off of + horseback. Spare and well-knit, his figure had a suggestion of slightness + which the scales would have belied. His face, keen and clean-shaven, was + brown as the August hills, and above it his broad hat sat in the careless + dignity affected by the gentlemen of the plains. His leather coat afforded + protection from the heat of day and from the cold of night. + </p> + <p> + “Good evening, men,” he said, courteously. “Don’t let me disturb your + meal. Afterwards perhaps I can have a word with the boss.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s me,” said Transley, rising. + </p> + <p> + “No, don’t get up,” the stranger protested, but Transley insisted that he + had finished, and, getting down from the wagon, led the way a little + distance from the eager ears of its occupants. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Grant,” said the stranger; “Dennison Grant. I am employed by + Mr. Landson, who has a ranch down the valley. If I am not mistaken you are + Mr. Transley.” + </p> + <p> + “You are not mistaken,” Transley replied. + </p> + <p> + “And I am perhaps further correct,” continued Grant, “in surmising that + you are here on behalf of the Y.D., and propose cutting hay in this + valley?” + </p> + <p> + “Your grasp of the situation does you credit.” Transley’s manner was that + of a man prepared to meet trouble somewhat more than half way. + </p> + <p> + “And I may further surmise,” continued Grant, quite unruffled, “that Y.D. + neglected to give you one or two points of information bearing upon the + ownership of this land, which would doubtless have been of interest to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Suppose you dismount,” said Transley. “I like to look a man in the face + when I talk business to him.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s fair,” returned Grant, swinging lightly from his horse. “I have a + preference that way myself.” He advanced to within arm’s length of + Transley and for a few moments the two men stood measuring each other. It + was steel boring steel; there was not a flicker of an eyelid. + </p> + <p> + “We may as well get to business, Grant,” said Transley at length. “I also + can do some surmising. I surmise that you were sent here by Landson to + forbid me to cut hay in this valley. On what authority he acts I neither + know nor care. I take my orders from Y.D. Y.D. said cut the hay. I am + going to cut it.” + </p> + <p> + “YOU ARE NOT!” + </p> + <p> + Transley’s muscles could be seen to go tense beneath his shirt. + </p> + <p> + “Who will stop me?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “You will be stopped.” + </p> + <p> + “The Mounted Police?” There was contempt in his voice, but the contempt + was not for the Force. It was for the rancher who would appeal to the + police to settle a “friendly” dispute. + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t think it will be necessary to call in the police,” returned + Grant, dropping back to his pleasant, casual manner. “You know Y.D., and + doubtless you feel quite safe under his wing. But you don’t know Landson. + Neither do you know the facts of the case—the right and wrong of it. + Under these handicaps you cannot reach a decision which is fair to + yourself and to your men.” + </p> + <p> + “Further argument is simply waste of time,” Transley interrupted. “I have + told you my instructions, and I have told you that I am going to carry + them out. Have you had your supper?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, thanks. All right, we won’t argue any more. I’m not arguing now—I’m + telling you, Y.D. has cut hay in this valley so long he thinks he owns it, + and the other ranchers began to think he owned it. But Landson has been + making a few inquiries. He finds that these are not Crown lands, but are + privately owned by speculators in New York. He has contracted with the + owners for the hay rights of these lands for five years, beginning with + the present season. He is already cutting farther down the valley, and + will be cutting here within a day or two.” + </p> + <p> + “The trout ought to bite on a fine evening like this,” said Transley. “I + have an extra rod and some flies. Will you try a throw or two with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I would be glad to, but I must get back to camp. I hope you land a good + string,” and so saying Grant remounted, nodded to Transley and again to + the men now scattered about the camp, and started his horse on an easy + lope down the valley. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is it to be?” said Linder, coming up with the rest of the + boys. “War?” + </p> + <p> + “War if they fight,” Transley replied, unconcernedly. “Y.D. said cut the + hay; ‘spite o’ hell an’ high water,’ he said. That goes.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly the great orb of the sun sank until the crest of the mountains + pierced its molten glory and sent it burnishing their rugged heights. In + the east the plains were already wrapped in shadow. Up the valley crept + the veil of night, hushing even the limitless quiet of the day. The stream + babbled louder in the lowering gloom; the stamp and champing of horses + grew less insistent; the cloudlets overhead faded from crimson to mauve to + blue to grey. + </p> + <p> + Transley tapped the ashes from his pipe and went to bed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + “How about a ride over to the South Fork this afternoon, Zen?” said Y.D. + to his daughter the following morning. “I just want to make sure them boys + is hittin’ the high spots. The grass is gettin’ powerful dry an’ you can + never tell what may happen.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re on,” the girl replied across the breakfast table. Her mother + looked up sharply. She wondered if the prospect of another meeting with + Transley had anything to do with Zen’s alacrity. + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped you would outgrow your slang, Zen,” she remonstrated gently. + “Men like Mr. Transley are likely to judge your training by your speech.” + </p> + <p> + “I should worry. Slang is to language what feathers are to a hat—they + give it distinction, class. They lift it out of the drab commonplace.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, I would not care to be dressed entirely in feathers,” her mother + thrust quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Good for you, Mother!” the girl exclaimed, throwing an arm about her neck + and planking a firm kiss on her forehead. “That was a solar plexus. Now + I’ll try to be good and wear a feather only here and there. But Mr. + Transley has nothing to do with it.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” said Y.D. “Still, Transley is a man with snap in him. + That’s why he’s boss. So many of these ornery good-for-nothin’s is always + wishin’ they was boss, but they ain’t willin’ to pay the price. It costs + somethin’ to get to the head of the herd—an’ stay there.” + </p> + <p> + “He seems firm on all fours,” the girl agreed. “How do we travel, and + when?” + </p> + <p> + “Better take a democrat, I guess,” her father said. “We can throw in a + tent and some bedding for you, as we’ll maybe stay over a couple of + nights.” + </p> + <p> + “The blue sky is tent enough for me,” Zen protested, “and I can surely + rustle a blanket or two around the camp. Besides, I’ll want a riding horse + to get around with there.” + </p> + <p> + “You can run him beside the democrat,” said her father. “You’re gettin’ + too big to go campin’ promisc’us like when you was a kid.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the penalty for growing up,” Zen sighed. “All right, Dad. Say two + o’clock?” + </p> + <p> + The girl spent the morning helping her mother about the house, and casting + over in her mind the probable developments of the near future. She would + not have confessed outwardly to even a casual interest in Transley, but + inwardly she admitted that the promise of another meeting with him gave + zest to the prospect. Transley was interesting. At least he was out of the + commonplace. His bold directness had rather fascinated her. He had a will. + Her father had always admired men with a will, and Zen shared his + admiration. Then there was Linder. The fierce light of Transley’s charms + did not blind her to the glow of quiet capability which she saw in Linder. + If one were looking for a husband, Linder had much to recommend him. He + was probably less capable than Transley, but he would be easier to + manage.... But who was looking for a husband? Not Zen. No, no, certainly + not Zen. + </p> + <p> + Then there was George Drazk, whose devotions fluctuated between “that + Pete-horse” and the latest female to cross his orbit. At the thought of + George Drazk Zen laughed outright. She had played with him. She had made a + monkey of him, and he deserved all he had got. It was not the first + occasion upon which Zen had let herself drift with the tide, always sure + of justifying herself and discomfiting someone by the swift, strong + strokes with which, at the right moment, she reached the shore. Zen liked + to think of herself as careering through life in the same way as she rode + the half-broken horses of her father’s range. How many such a horse had + thought that the lithe body on his back was something to race with, toy + with, and, when tired of that, fling precipitately to earth! And not one + of those horses but had found that while he might race and toy with his + rider within limitations, at the last that light body was master, and not + he.... Yet Zen loved best the horse that raced wildest and was hardest to + bring into subjection. + </p> + <p> + That was her philosophy of life so far as a girl of twenty may have a + philosophy of life. It was to go on and see what would happen, supported + always by a quiet confidence that in any pinch she could take care of + herself. She had learned to ride and shoot, to sleep out and cook in the + open, to ride the ranges after dark by instinct and the stars—she + had learned these things while other girls of her age learned the + rudiments of fancy-work and the scales of the piano. + </p> + <p> + Her father and mother knew her disposition, loved it, and feared for it. + They knew that there was never a rider so brave, so skilful, so strong, + but some outlaw would throw him at last. So at fourteen they sent her east + to a boarding-school. In two months she was back with a letter of + expulsion, and the boast of having blacked the eyes of the principal’s + daughter. + </p> + <p> + “They couldn’t teach me any more, Mother,” she said. “They admitted it. So + here I am.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. was plainly perplexed. “It’s about time you was halter-broke,” he + commented, “but who’s goin’ to do it?” + </p> + <p> + “If a girl has learned to read and think, what more can the schools do for + her?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + And Y.D., never having been to school, could not answer. + </p> + <p> + The sun was capping the Rockies with molten gold when the rancher and his + daughter swung down the foothill slopes to the camp on the South Y.D. + Strings of men and horses returning from the upland meadows could be seen + from the hillside as they descended. + </p> + <p> + Y.D.‘s sharp eyes measured the scale of operations. + </p> + <p> + “They’re hittin’ the high spots,” he said, approvingly. “That boy Transley + is a hum-dinger.” + </p> + <p> + Zen made no reply. + </p> + <p> + “I say he’s a hum-dinger,” her father repeated. + </p> + <p> + The girl looked up with a quick flush of surprise. Y.D. was no puzzle to + her, and if he went out of his way to commend Transley he had a purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Transley seems to have made a hit with you, Dad,” she remarked, + evasively. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I do like to see a man who’s got the goods in him. I like a man + that can get there, just as I like a horse that can get there. I’ve often + wondered, Zen, what kind you’d take up with, when it came to that, an’ + hoped he’d be a live crittur. After I’m dead an’ buried I don’t want no + other dead one spendin’ my simoleons.” + </p> + <p> + “How about Mr. Linder?” said Zen, naively. + </p> + <p> + Her father looked up sharply. “Zen,” he said, “you’re not serious?” + </p> + <p> + Zen laughed. “I don’t figure you’re exactly serious, Dad, in your talk + about Transley. You’re just feeling out. Well—let me do a little + feeling out. How about Linder?” + </p> + <p> + “Linder’s all right,” Y.D. replied. “Better than the average, I admit. But + he’s not the man Transley is. If he was, he wouldn’t be workin’ for + Transley. You can’t keep a man down, Zen, if he’s got the goods in him. + Linder comes up over the average, so’s you can notice it, but not like + Transley does.” + </p> + <p> + Zen did not pursue the subject. She understood her father’s philosophy + very well indeed, and, to a large degree, she accepted it as her own. It + was natural that a man of Y.D.‘s experience, who had begun life with no + favors and had asked none since, and had made of himself a big success—it + was natural that such a man should judge all others by their material + achievements. The only quality Y.D. took off his hat to was the ability to + do things. And Y.D.‘s idea of things was very concrete; it had to do with + steers and land, with hay and money and men. It was by such things he + measured success. And Zen was disposed to agree with him. Why not? It was + the only success she knew. + </p> + <p> + Transley was greeting them as they drew into camp. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you, Y.D.; honored to have a visit from you, Ma’am,” he said, + as he helped them from the democrat, and gave instructions for the care of + their horses. “Supper is waiting, and the men won’t be ready for some + time.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. shook hands with Transley cordially. “Zen an’ me just thought we’d + run over and see how the wind blew,” he said. “You got a good spot here + for a camp, Transley. But we won’t go in to supper just now. Let the men + eat first; I always say the work horses should be first at the barn. Well, + how’s she goin’?” + </p> + <p> + “Fine,” said Transley, “fine,” but it was evident his mind was divided. He + was glancing at Zen, who stood by during the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “I must try and make your daughter at home,” he continued. “I allow myself + the luxury of a private tent, and as you will be staying over night I will + ask you to accept it for her.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have my own tent with me, in the democrat,” said Zen. “If you will + let the men pitch it under the trees where I can hear the water murmuring + in the night—” + </p> + <p> + “Who’d have thought it, from the daughter of the practical Y.D!” Transley + bantered. “All right, Ma’am, but in the meantime take my tent. I’ll get + water, and there’s a basin.” He already was leading the way. “Make + yourself at home—Zen. May I call you Zen?” he added, in a lower + voice, as they left Y.D. at a distance. + </p> + <p> + “Everybody calls me Zen.” + </p> + <p> + They were standing at the door of the tent, he holding back the flap that + she might enter. The valley was already in shadow, and there was no + sunlight to play on her hair, but her face and figure in the mellow dusk + seemed entirely winsome and adorable. There was no taint of Y.D.‘s + millions in the admiration that Transley bent upon her.... Of course, as + an adjunct, the millions were not to be despised. + </p> + <p> + When the men had finished supper Transley summoned her. On the way to the + chuck-wagon she passed close to George Drazk. It was evident that he had + chosen a station with that result in view. She had passed by when she + turned, whimsically. + </p> + <p> + “Well, George, how’s that Pete-horse?” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Up an comin’ all the time, Zen,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + She bit her lip over his familiarity, but she had no come-back. She had + given him the opening, by calling him “George.” + </p> + <p> + “You see, I got quite well acquainted with Mr. Drazk when he came back to + hunt for a horse blanket which had mysteriously disappeared,” she + explained to Transley. + </p> + <p> + They ascended the steps which led from the ground into the wagon. The + table had been reset for four, and as the shadows were now heavy in the + valley, candles had been lighted. Y.D. and his daughter sat on one side, + Transley on the other. In a moment Linder entered. He had already had a + talk with Y.D., but had not met Zen since their supper together in the + rancher’s house. + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see you again, Mr. Linder,” said the girl, rising and extending + her hand across the table. “You see we lost no time in returning your + call.” + </p> + <p> + Linder took her hand in a frank grasp, but could think of nothing in + particular to say. “We’re glad to have you,” was all he could manage. + </p> + <p> + Zen was rather sorry that Linder had not made more of the situation. She + wondered what quick repartee, shot, no doubt, with double meaning, + Transley would have returned. It was evident that, as her father had said, + Linder was second best. And yet there was something about his shyness that + appealed to her even more than did Transley’s superb self-confidence. + </p> + <p> + The meal was spent in small talk about horses and steers and the merits of + the different makes of mowing machines. When it was finished Transley + apologized for not offering his guests any liquor. “I never keep it about + the camp,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Quite right,” Y.D. agreed, “quite right. Booze is like fire; a valuable + thing in careful hands, but mighty dangerous when everybody gets playin’ + with it. I reckon the grass is gettin’ pretty dry, Transley?” + </p> + <p> + “Mighty dry, all right, but we’re taking every precaution.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure you are, but you can’t take precautions for other people. Has + anybody been puttin’ you up to any trouble here?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, no, I can’t exactly say trouble,” said Transley, “but we’ve got + notice it’s coming. A chap named Grant, foreman, I think, for Landson, + down the valley, rode over last night, and invited us not to cut any hay + hereabouts. He was very courteous, and all that, but he had the manner of + a man who’d go quite a distance in a pinch.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you tell him?” + </p> + <p> + “Told him I was working for Y.D., and then asked him to stay for supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he stay?” Zen asked. + </p> + <p> + “He did not. He cantered off back, courteous as he came. And this morning + we went out on the job, and have cut all day, and nothing has happened.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess he found you were not to be bluffed,” said Zen, and Transley + could not prevent a flush of pleasure at her compliment. “Of course + Landson has no real claim to the hay, has he, Dad?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. I reckon them’ll be his stacks we saw down the valley. + Well, I’m not wantin’ to rob him of the fruit of his labor, an’ if he + keeps calm perhaps we’ll let him have what he has cut, but if he don’t—” + Y.D.‘s face hardened with the set of a man accustomed to fight, and win, + his own battles. “I think we’ll just stick around a day or two in case he + tries to start anythin’,” he continued. + </p> + <p> + “Well, five o’clock comes early,” said Transley, “and you folks must be + tired with your long drive. We’ve had your tent pitched down by the water, + Zen, so that its murmurs may sing you to sleep. You see, I have some of + the poetic in me, too. Mr. Linder will show you down, and I will see that + your father is made comfortable. And remember—five o’clock does not + apply to visitors.” + </p> + <p> + The camp now lay in complete darkness, save where a lantern threw its + light from a tent by the river. Zen walked by Linder’s side. Presently she + reached out and took his arm. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Linder. “I should have offered—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you should. Mr. Transley would not have waited to be told. Dad + thinks that anything that’s worth having in this world is worth going + after, and going after hard. I guess I’m Dad’s daughter in more ways than + one.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he’s right,” Linder confessed, “but I’ve always been shy. I get + along all right with men.” + </p> + <p> + “The truth is, Mr Linder, you’re not shy—you’re frightened. Now I + can well believe that no man could frighten you. Consequently you get + along all right with men. Do I need to tell you the rest?” + </p> + <p> + “I never thought of myself as being afraid of women,” he replied. “It has + always seemed that they were, well, just out of my line.” + </p> + <p> + They had reached the tent but the girl made no sign of going in. In the + silence the sibilant lisp of the stream rose loud about them. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Linder,” she said at length, “do you know why Mr. Transley sent you + down here with me?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure I don’t, except to show you to your tent.” + </p> + <p> + “That was the least of his purposes. He wanted to show you that he wasn’t + afraid of you; and he wanted to show me that he wasn’t afraid of you. Mr. + Transley is a very self-confident individual. There is such a thing as + being too self-confident, Mr. Linder, just as there is such a thing as + being too shy. Do you get me? Good night!” And with a little rush she was + in her tent. + </p> + <p> + Linder walked slowly down to the water’s edge, and stood there, thinking, + until her light went out. His brain was in a whirl with a sensation + entirely strange to it. A light wind, laden with snow-smell from the + mountains, pressed gently against his features, and presently Linder took + deeper breaths than he had ever known before. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” he said. “Who’d have thought it possible?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + When Zen awoke next morning the mowing machines of Transley’s outfit were + already singing their symphony in the meadows; she could hear the metallic + rhythm as it came borne on the early breeze. She lay awake on her camp cot + for a few minutes, stretching her fingers to the canvas ceiling and + feeling that it was good to be alive. And it was. The ripple of water came + from almost underneath the walls of her tent; the smell of spruce trees + and balm-o’-Gilead and new-mown hay was in the air. She could feel the + warmth of the sunshine already pouring upon her white roof; she could + trace the gentle sway of the trees by the leafy patterns gliding forward + and back. A cheeky gopher, exploring about the door of her tent, ventured + in, and, sitting bolt upright, sent his shrill whistle boldly forth. She + watched his fine bravery for a minute, then clapped her hands together, + and laughed as he fled. + </p> + <p> + “Therein we have the figures of both Transley and Linder,” she mused to + herself. “Upright, Transley; horizontal, Linder. I doubt if the poor + fellow slept last night after the fright I gave him.” Slowly and calmly + she turned the incident over in her mind. She wondered a little if she had + been quite fair with Linder. Her words and conduct were capable of very + broad interpretations. She was not at all in love with Linder; of that Zen + was very sure. She was equally sure that she was not at all in love with + Transley. She admitted that she admired Transley for his calm assumptions, + but they nettled her a little nevertheless. If this should develop into a + love affair—IF it should—she had no intention that it was to + be a pleasant afternoon’s canter. It was to be a race—a race, mind + you—and may the best man win! She had a feeling, amounting almost to + a conviction, that Transley underrated his foreman’s possibilities in such + a contest. She had seen many a dark horse, less promising than Linder, + gallop home with the stakes. + </p> + <p> + Then Zen smiled her own quiet, self-confident smile, the smile which had + come down to her from Y.D. and from the Wilsons—the only family that + had ever mastered him. The idea of either Transley or Linder thinking he + could gallop home with HER! For the moment she forgot to do Linder the + justice of remembering that nothing was further from his thoughts. She + would show them. She would make a race of it—ALMOST to the wire. In + the home stretch she would make the leap, out and over the fence. She was + in it for the race, not for the finish. + </p> + <p> + Zen contemplated for some minutes the possibilities of that race; then, as + the imagination threatened to become involved, she sprang from her cot and + thrust a cautious head through the door of her tent. The gang had long + since gone to the fields, and friendly bushes sheltered her from view from + the cook-car. She drew on her boots, shook out her hair, threw a towel + across her shoulders, and, soap in hand, walked boldly the few steps to + the stream rippling over its shiny gravel bed. She stopped and tested the + water with her fingers; then brought it in fresh, cool handfuls about her + face and neck. + </p> + <p> + “Mornin’, Zen!” said a familiar voice. “‘Scuse me for happenin’ to be + here. I was jus’ waterin’ that Pete-horse after a hard ride.” + </p> + <p> + “Now look here, Mr. Drazk!” said the girl, whipping her scanty clothing + about her, “if I had a gun that Pete-horse would be scheduled for his + fastest travel in the next twenty seconds, and he’d end it without a + rider, too. I won’t have you spying about!” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, don’ be cross,” Drazk protested. He was sitting on his horse in the + ford a dozen yards away. “I jus’ happened along. I guess the outside + belongs to all of us. Say, Zen, if I was to get properly interduced, + what’s the chances?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one in a million, and if that isn’t odds enough I’ll double it.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re not goin’ to hitch up with Linder, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Linder? Who said anything about Linder?” + </p> + <p> + “Gee, but ain’t she innercent?” Drazk stepped his horse up a few feet to + facilitate conversation. “I alus take an interest in innercent gals away + from home, so I kinda kep’ my angel eye on you las’ night. An’ I see + Linder stalkin’ aroun’ here an’ sighin’ out over the water when he should + ‘ave been in bed. But, of course, he’s been interduced.” + </p> + <p> + “George Drazk, if you speak to me again I’ll horse-whip you out of the + camp at noon before all the men. Now, beat it!” + </p> + <p> + “Jus’ as you say, Ma’am,” he returned, with mock courtesy. “But I could + tell a strange story if I would. But you don’t need to be scared. That’s + one thing I never do—I never squeal on a friend.” + </p> + <p> + She was burning with his insults, and if she had had a gun at hand she + undoubtedly would have made good her threat. But she had none. Drazk very + deliberately turned his horse and rode away toward the meadows. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, won’t I fix him!” she said, as she continued her toilet in a fury. + She had not the faintest idea what revenge she would take, but she + promised herself that it would leave nothing to be desired. Then, because + she was young and healthy and an optimist, and did not know what it meant + to be afraid, she dismissed the incident from her mind to consider the + more urgent matter of breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Tompkins, the cook, had not needed Transley’s suggestion to put his best + foot forward when catering to Y.D. and his daughter. Tompkins’ soul + yearned for a cooking berth that could be occupied the year round. Work in + the railway camps had always left him high and dry at the freeze-up—dry, + particularly, and a few nights in Calgary or Edmonton saw the end of his + season’s earnings. Then came a precarious existence for Tompkins until the + scrapers were back on the dump the following spring. A steady job, cooking + on a ranch like the Y.D.; if Tompkins had written the Apocalypse that + would have been his picture of heaven. So he had left nothing undone, even + to despatching a courier over night to a railway station thirty miles away + for fresh fruit and other delicacies. Another of the gang had been + impressed into a trip up the river to a squatter who was suspected of + keeping one or two milch cows and sundry hens. + </p> + <p> + “This way, Ma’am,” Tompkins was waving as Zen emerged from the grove. + “Another of our usual mornings. Hope you slep’ well, Ma’am.” He stood + deferentially aside while she ascended the three steps that led into the + covered wagon. + </p> + <p> + Zen gave a little shriek of delight, and Tompkins felt that all his + efforts had been well repaid. One end of the table—it was with a + sore heart Tompkins had realized that he could not cut down the big table—one + end of the table was set with a clean linen cloth and granite dishware + scoured until it shone. Beside Zen’s plate were grape fruit and sliced + oranges and real cream. + </p> + <p> + “However did you manage it?” she gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing’s too good for Y.D.‘s daughter,” was the only explanation + Tompkins would offer, but, as Zen afterwards said, the smile on his face + was as good as another breakfast. After the fruit came porridge, and more + cream; then fresh boiled eggs with toast; then fresh ripe strawberries + with more cream. + </p> + <p> + “Mr.—Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “Tompkins, Ma’am; Cyrus Tompkins,” he supplied. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Tompkins, you’re a wonder, and when there’s a new cook to be + engaged for the Y.D. I shall think of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I wish you would, Ma’am,” he said, earnestly. “This road work’s + all right, and nobody ever cooked for a better boss than Mr. Transley—savin’ + it would be your father, Ma’am—but I’m a man of family, an’ it’s + pretty hard—” + </p> + <p> + “Family, did you say, Mr. Tompkins? How many of a family have you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s seven years since I heard from them—I haven’t + corresponded very reg’lar of late, but they WAS six—” + </p> + <p> + The story of Tompkins’ family was cut short by the arrival of a team and + mowing machine. + </p> + <p> + “What’s up, Fred?” called Tompkins through a window of his dining car to + the driver. “Breakfust is just over, an’ dinner ain’t begun.” + </p> + <p> + For answer the man addressed as Fred slowly produced an iron stake about + eighteen inches long and somewhat less than an inch in diameter. + </p> + <p> + “What kind of shrubbery do you call that, Tompkins?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it ain’t buffalo grass, an’ it ain’t brome grass, an’ I don’t + figger it’s alfalfa,” said Tompkins, meditatively. + </p> + <p> + “No, and it ain’t a grub-stake,” Fred replied, with some sarcasm. “It’s a + iron stake, growin’ right in a nice little clump of grass, and I run on to + it and bust my cuttin’-bar all to—that is, all to pieces,” he + completed rather lamely, taking Zen into his glance. + </p> + <p> + “I think I follow you,” she said, with a smile. “Can you fix it here?” + </p> + <p> + “Nope. Have to go to town for a new one. Two days’ lost time, when every + hour counts. Hello! Here comes someone else.” + </p> + <p> + Another of the teamsters was drawing into camp. “Hello, Fred!” he said, + upon coming up with his fellow workman, “you in too? I had a bit of bad + luck. I run smash on to an iron stake right there in the ground and + crumpled my knife like so much soap.” + </p> + <p> + “I did worse,” said Fred, with a grin. “I bust my cuttin’-bar.” + </p> + <p> + The two men exchanged a steady glance for half a minute. Then the + new-comer gave vent to a long, low whistle. + </p> + <p> + “So that’s the way of it,” he said. “That’s the kind of war Mr. Landson + makes. Well, we can fight back with the same weapons, but that won’t cut + the hay, will it?” + </p> + <p> + By this time Y.D. and Transley, with four other teamsters, were observed + coming in. Each driver had had the same experience. An iron stake, + carefully hidden in a clump of grass, had been driven down into the ground + until it was just high enough to intercept the cutting-bar. The fine, + sharp knives were crumpled against it; in some cases the heavy + cutting-bar, in which the knives operate, was damaged. + </p> + <p> + Y.D.‘s face was black with fury. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the lowest, mangyest, cowardliest trick I ever had pulled on me,” + he was saying. “I’m plumb equal to ridin’ down to Landson’s an’ drivin’ + one of them stakes through under his short ribs.” + </p> + <p> + “But can you prove that Landson did it?” said Zen, who had an element of + caution in her when her father was concerned. She had a vision of a fight, + with Landson pleading entire ignorance of the whole cause of offence, and + her father probably summoned by the police for unprovoked assault. + </p> + <p> + “No, I can’t prove that Landson did it, an’ I can’t prove that the grass + my steers eat turns to hair on their backs,” he retorted, “but I reach my + own conclusions. Is there any shootin’ irons in the place?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Dad, that’s enough,” said the girl, firmly. “There’ll be no shooting + between you and Landson. If there is to be anything of that kind I’ll ride + down ahead and warn him of what’s coming.” + </p> + <p> + “Darter,” said Y.D.—it was only on momentous occasions that he + addressed her as daughter—“I brought you over here as a guest, not + as manager o’ my affairs. I’ve taken care of those affairs for some + considerable years, an’ I reckon I still have the qualifications. If + you’re a-goin’ to act up obstrep’rous I’ll get Mr. Transley to lend me a + man to escort you home.” + </p> + <p> + “At your service, Y.D.,” said George Drazk, who was in the crowd which had + gathered about the rancher, his daughter, and Transley. “That Pete-horse + an’ me would jus’ see her over the hills a-whoopin’.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think it would be wise to take any extreme measures, at least, + not just yet,” said Transley. “It’s out of the question to suppose that + Landson has picketed the whole valley with those stakes. It is now quite + clear why we were left in peace yesterday. He wanted us to get started, + and get a few swaths cut, so that he would know where to drive the stakes + to catch us the next morning. Some of these machines can be repaired at + once, and the others within a day or two. We will just move over a little + and start on new fields. There’s pretty good moonlight these nights and + we’ll leave a few men out on guard, and perhaps we can catch the enemy at + his little game. Let us get one of Landson’s men with the goods on him.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. was somewhat pacified by this suggestion. “You’re a practical devil, + Transley,” he said, with considerable admiration. “Now, in a case of this + kind I jus’ get plumb fightin’ mad. I want to bore somebody. I guess it’s + the only kind o’ procedure that comes easy to my hand. I guess you’re + right, but I hate to let anybody have the laugh on me.” Y.D. looked down + the valley, shading his eyes with his hand. “That son-of-a-gun has got a + dozen or more stacks down there. I don’t wish nobody any hard luck, but if + some tenderfoot was to drop a cigar—” + </p> + <p> + “In that case I suppose you’d pray for a west wind, Dad,” Zen suggested, + “but the winds in these valleys, even with your prayers to direct them, + are none too reliable.” + </p> + <p> + “Everybody to work on fixing up these machines,” Transley ordered. + “Linder, make a list of what repairs are needed and Drazk will ride to + town with it at once. Some of them may have to come out from the city by + express. Drazk can get the orders in and a team will follow to bring out + the repairs.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment Transley’s men were busy with wrenches and hammers, replacing + knives and appraising damages. Even in his anger Y.D. took approving note + of the promptness of Transley’s decisions and the zest with which his men + carried them into effect. + </p> + <p> + “A he-man, that fellow, Zen,” he confided to his daughter, “If he’d blowed + into this country thirty years ago, like I did, he’d own it by this time + plumb to the sky-line.” + </p> + <p> + When the list of repairs was completed Linder handed it to Drazk. + </p> + <p> + “Beat it to town on that Pete-horse of yours, George,” he said. “Burn the + grass on the road.” + </p> + <p> + “I bet I’ll be ten miles on the road back when I meet my shadow goin’,” + said Drazk, making a spectacular leap into his saddle. “Bye, Y.D!; bye, + Zen!” he shouted while he whirled his horse’s head eastward and waved his + hand to where they stood. In spite of her annoyance at him she had to + smile and return his salute. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Drazk is irrepressible,” she remarked to Transley. + </p> + <p> + “And irresponsible,” the contractor returned. “I sometimes wonder why I + keep him. In fact, I don’t really keep him; he just stays. Every spring he + hunts me up and fastens on. Still, I get a lot of good service out of him. + Praise ‘that Pete-horse,’ and George would ride his head off for you. He + has a weakness for wanting to marry every woman he sees, but his + infatuations seem harmless enough.” + </p> + <p> + “I know something of his weakness,” Zen replied. “I have already been + honored with a proposal.” + </p> + <p> + Transley looked in her face. It was slightly flushed, whether with the + summer sun or with her confession, but it was a wonderfully good face to + look in. + </p> + <p> + “Zen,” he said, in a low voice that Y.D. and the others might not hear, + “how would you take a serious proposal, made seriously by one who loves + you, and who knows that you are, and always will be, a queen among women?” + </p> + <p> + “If you had been a cow puncher instead of a contractor,” she told him, + “I’m sure you would long ago have ended your life in some dash over a + cutbank.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Drazk pursued his way to town. The trail, after crossing the + ford, turned abruptly to the right from that which led across country to + the North Y.D. For a mile or more it skirted the stream in a park-like + drive through groves of spruce and cottonwood. Sunshine and the babble of + water everywhere filled the air. Sunshine, too, filled George Drazk’s + heart. The importance of his mission was pleasantly heavy upon him. He + pictured the impression he would make in town, galloping in with his horse + wet over the back, and rushing to the implement agency with all the + importance of a courier from Y.D. He would let two of the boys take Pete + to the stable, and then, seated on a mower seat in the shade, he would + tell the story. It would lose nothing in the telling. He would even add + how Zen had thrown a kiss at him in parting. Perhaps he would have Zen + kiss him on the cheek before the whole camp. He turned that possibility + over in his mind, weighing nicely the credulity of his imaginary + audience.... At any rate, whether he decided to put that in the story or + not, it was very pleasant to think about. + </p> + <p> + Presently the trail turned abruptly up a gully leading into the hills. A + huge cutbank, jutting into the river, barred the way in front, and its + precipitous side, a hundred feet or more in height, kept continually + crumbling and falling into the stream. These cutbanks are a terror to + inexperienced riders. The valleys are swallowed up in the tawny sameness + of the ranges; the vision catches only the higher levels, and one may + gallop to the verge of a precipice before becoming aware of its existence. + It was to this that Zen had referred in speaking of Transley’s + precipitateness. + </p> + <p> + Drazk followed the gully up into the hills, letting his horse drop back to + a walk in the hard going along the dry bed of a stream which flowed only + in the spring freshets. Pete had to pick his way over boulders and across + stretches of sand and boggy patches of black mud formed by little springs + leaking out under clumps of willows. Here and there the white ribs of a + steer’s skeleton peered through the brush; once or twice an overpowering + stench gave notice of a carcass not wholly decomposed. + </p> + <p> + It was not a pleasant environment, but in an hour Drazk was out again on + the brow of the brown hills, where the sunshine flooded about and a fresh + breeze beat up against his face. After all his winding about in the gully + he was not more than a mile from the cutbank. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon I could get a great view from that cutbank of what Landson is + doin’,” he suddenly remarked to himself. He took off his hat and scratched + his tousled head in reflection. “Linder said to beat it,” he ruminated, + “but I can’t get back to-night anyway, an’ it might be worth while to do a + little scoutin’. Here goes!” + </p> + <p> + He struck a smart gallop to the southward, and brought his horse up, + spectacularly, a yard from the edge of the precipice. The view which his + position commanded was superb. Up the valley lay the white tents of + Transley’s outfit, almost hidden in green foliage; the ford across the + river was distinctly visible, and stretching south from it lay, like a + great curving snake, the trail which wound across the valley and lost + itself in the foothills far to the south; across the western horizon hung + the purple curtain of the mountains, soft and vague in their noonday + mists, but touched with settings of ivory where the snow fields beat back + the blazing sunshine; far down the valley was the gleam of Landson’s + whitewashed buildings, and nearer at hand the greenish-brown of the upland + meadows which his haymakers had already cleared of their crop of prairie + wool. This was now arising in enormous stacks; it must have been three + miles to where they lay, but Drazk’s keen eyes could distinguish ten + completed stacks and two others in course of building. He could even see + the sweeps hauling the new hay, after only a few hours of sun-drying, and + sliding it up the inclined platforms which dumped it into the form of + stacks. The foothill rancher makes hay by horse power, and almost without + the aid of a pitch-fork. Even as Drazk watched he saw a load skidded up; + saw its apparent momentary poise in air; saw the well-trained horses stop + and turn and start back to the meadow with their sweep. And up the valley + Transley’s outfit was at a standstill. + </p> + <p> + Drazk employed his limited but expressive vocabulary. It was against all + human nature to look on such a scene unmoved. He recalled Y.D.‘s + half-spoken wish about a random cigar. Then suddenly George Drazk’s mouth + dropped open and his eyes rounded with a great idea. + </p> + <p> + Of course, it was against all the rules of the range—it was outlaw + business—but what about driving iron stakes in a hay meadow? Drazk’s + philosophy was that the end justifies the means. And if the end would win + the approval of Y.D.—and of Y.D.‘s daughter—then any means was + justified. Had not Linder said, “Burn the grass on the road?” Drazk knew + well enough that Linder’s remark was a figure of speech, but his eccentric + mind found no trouble in converting it into literal instructions. + </p> + <p> + Drazk sniffed the air and looked at the sun. A soft breeze was moving + slowly up the valley; the sun was just past noon. There was every reason + to expect that as the lowland prairies grew hot with the afternoon + sunshine a breeze would come down out of the mountains to occupy the area + of great atmospheric expansion. Drazk knew nothing about the theory of the + thing; all that concerned him was the fact that by mid-afternoon the wind + would probably change to the west. + </p> + <p> + Two miles down the valley he found a gully which gave access to the + water’s edge. He descended, located a ford, and crossed. There were + cattle-trails through the cottonwoods; he might have followed them, but he + feared the telltale shoe-prints. He elected the more difficult route down + the stream itself. The South Y.D. ran mostly on a wide gravel bottom; it + was possible to pick out a course which kept Pete in water seldom higher + than his knees. An hour of this, and Drazk, peering through the trees, + could see the nearest of Landson’s stacks not half a mile away. The + Landson gang were working farther down the valley, and the stack itself + covered approach from the river. + </p> + <p> + Drazk slipped from the saddle, and stole quietly into the open. The breeze + was now coming down the valley. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + Transley’s men had repaired such machines as they could and returned to + work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the valley; the horses were + speeded up to recover lost time. Transley and Y.D. rode about, carefully + scrutinizing the short grass for iron stakes, and keeping a general eye on + operations. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Transley sat bolt-still on his horse. Then, in a low voice, + </p> + <p> + “Y.D!” he said. + </p> + <p> + The rancher turned and followed the line of Transley’s vision. The nearest + of Landson’s stacks was ablaze, and a great pillar of smoke was rolling + skyward. Even as they watched, the base of the fire seemed to spread; + then, in a moment, tongues of flame were seen leaping from a stack farther + on. + </p> + <p> + “Looks like your prayers were answered, Y.D.,” said Transley. “I bet they + haven’t a plow nearer than the ranch.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. seemed fascinated by the sight. He could not take his eyes off it. He + drew a cigar from his pocket and thrust it far into his mouth, chewing it + savagely and rolling it in his lips, but, according to the law of the + hayfield, refraining from lighting it. At first there was a gleam of + vengeance in his eyes, but presently that gave way to a sort of horror. + Every honorable tradition of the range demanded that he enlist his force + against the common enemy. + </p> + <p> + “Hell, Transley!” he ejaculated, “we can’t sit and look at that! Order the + men out! What have we got to fight with?” + </p> + <p> + For answer Transley swung round in his saddle and struck his palm into + Y.D.‘s. + </p> + <p> + “Good boy, Y.D!” he said. “I did you an injustice—I mean, about your + prayers being answered. We haven’t as much as a plow, either, but we can + gallop down with some barrels in a wagon and put a sack brigade to work. + I’m afraid it won’t save Landson’s hay, but it will show where our hearts + are.” + </p> + <p> + Transley and Y.D. galloped off to round up the men, some of whom had + already noticed the fire. Transley despatched four men and two teams to + take barrels, sacks, and horse blankets to the Landson meadows. The others + he sent off at once on horseback to give what help they could. + </p> + <p> + Zen rode up just as they left, and already her fine horse seemed to + realize the tension in the air. His keen, hard-strung muscles quivered as + she brought his gallop to a stop. + </p> + <p> + “How did it start, Dad?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “How do I know?” he returned, shortly. “D’ye think I fired it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I just asked the question that Landson will ask, so you better + have your answer handy. I’m going to gallop down to their ranch; perhaps I + can help Mrs. Landson.” + </p> + <p> + “The ranch buildings are safe enough, I think,” said Transley. “The grass + there is close cropped, and there is some plowing.” + </p> + <p> + For a moment the three sat, watching the spread of the flames. By this + time the whole lower valley was blanketed in smoke. Clouds of blue and + mauve and creamy yellow rolled from the meadows and stacks. The fire was + whipping the light breeze of the afternoon to a gale, and was already + running wildly over the flanks of the foothills. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m off,” said Zen. “Good-bye!” + </p> + <p> + “Be careful, Zen!” her father shouted. “Fire is fire.” But already her + horse was stretching low and straight in a hard gallop down the valley. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll ride in to camp and tell Tompkins to make up a double supply of + sandwiches and coffee,” said Transley. “I guess there’ll be no cooking in + Landson’s outfit this afternoon. After that we can both run down and lend + a hand, if that suits you.” + </p> + <p> + As they rode to camp together Y.D. drew up close to the contractor. + “Transley,” he said, “how do you reckon that fire started?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” said Transley, “any more than you do.” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t ask you what you KNEW. I asked you what you reckoned.” + </p> + <p> + Transley rode for some minutes in silence. Then at last he spoke: + </p> + <p> + “A man isn’t supposed to reckon in things of this kind. He should know, or + keep his mouth shut. But I allow myself just one guess. Drazk.” + </p> + <p> + “Why Drazk?” Y.D. demanded. “He has nothin’ to gain, and this prank may + put him in the cooler.” + </p> + <p> + “Drazk would do anything to be spectacular,” Transley explained. “He + probably will boast openly about it. You know, he’s trying to make an + impression on Zen.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it’s nonsense, but Drazk doesn’t see it that way.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d string him to the nearest cottonwood if I thought he—” + </p> + <p> + “Now don’t do him an injustice, Y.D. Drazk doesn’t realize that he is no + mate for Zen. He doesn’t know of any reason why Zen shouldn’t look on him + with favor; indeed, with pride. It’s ridiculous, I know, but Drazk is + built that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll change his style of architecture the first time I run into + him,” said Y.D. savagely. “Zen is too young to think of such a thing, + anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “She will always be too young to think of such a thing, so far as Drazk or + his type is concerned,” Transley returned. “But suppose—Y.D., to be + quite frank, suppose <i>I</i> suggested—” + </p> + <p> + “Transley, you work quick,” said Y.D. “I admit I like a quick worker. But + just now we have a fire on our hands.” + </p> + <p> + By this time they had reached the camp. Transley gave his instructions in + a few words, and then turned to ride down to Landson’s. They had gone only + a few hundred yards when Y.D. pulled his horse to a stop. + </p> + <p> + “Transley!” he exclaimed, and his voice was shaking. “What do you smell?” + </p> + <p> + The contractor drew up and sniffed the air. When he turned to Y.D. his + face was white. + </p> + <p> + “Smoke, Y.D!” he gasped. “The wind has changed!” + </p> + <p> + It was true. Already low clouds of smoke were drifting overhead like a + broken veil. The erratic foothill wind, which a few minutes before had + been coming down the valley, was now blowing back up again. Even while + they took in the situation they could feel the hot breath of the distant + fire borne against their faces. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it’s up to us,” said Transley tersely. “We’ll make a fight of it. + Got any speed in that nag of yours?” Without waiting for an answer he put + spurs to his horse and set forward on a wild gallop into the smoke. + </p> + <p> + A mile down the line he found that Linder had already gathered his forces + and laid out a plan of defence. The valley, from the South Y.D. to the + hills, was about four miles wide, and up the full breadth of it was now + coming the fire from Landson’s fields. There was no natural fighting line; + Linder had not so much as a buffalo path to work against. But he was + already starting back-fires at intervals of fifty yards, allotting three + men to each fire. A back-fire is a fire started for the purpose of + stopping another. Usually a road, or a plowed strip, or even a cattle + path, is used for a base. On the windward side of this base the back-fire + is started and allowed to eat its way back against the wind until it meets + the main fire which is rushing forward with the wind, and chokes it out + for lack of fuel. A few men, stationed along a furrow or a trail, can keep + the small back-fire from jumping it, although they would be powerless to + check the momentum of the main fire. + </p> + <p> + This was Linder’s position, except that he had no furrow to work against. + All he could do was tell off men with sacks and horse blankets soaked in + the barrels of water to hold the back-fire in check as best they could. So + far they were succeeding. As soon as the fire had burned a few feet the + forward side of it was pounded out with wet sacks. It didn’t matter about + the other side. It could be allowed to eat back as far as it liked; the + farther the better. + </p> + <p> + “Good boy, Lin!” Transley shouted, as he drew up and surveyed operations. + “She played us a dirty trick, didn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + Linder looked up, red-eyed and coughing. “We can hold it here,” he said, + “but we can never cross the valley. The fire will be on us before we have + burned a mile. It will beat around our south flank and lick up + everything!” + </p> + <p> + Transley jumped from his horse. He seized Linder in his arms and literally + threw him into the saddle. “You’re played, boy!” he shouted in his + foreman’s ear. “Ride down to the river and get into the water, and stay + there until you know we can win!” + </p> + <p> + Then Transley threw himself into the fight. As the men said afterwards, + Linder fought like a wildcat, but Transley fought like a den of lions. + When the wagon galloped up from the river with barrels of water Transley + seized a barrel at the end and set it bodily on the ground. He sprang into + the wagon, shouting commands to horses and men. A hundred yards they + galloped along the fighting front; then Transley sprang out and set + another barrel on the ground. In this way, instead of having the men all + coming to the wagon to wet their sacks, he distributed water along the + line. Then they turned back, picked up the empty barrels, and galloped to + the river for a fresh supply. + </p> + <p> + Soon they had the first mile secure. The backfires had all met; the + forward line of flames had all been pounded out; the rear line had burned + back until there was no danger of it jumping the burned space. Then + Transley picked up his kit and rushed it on to a new front farther south. + At intervals of a hundred yards he started fires, holding them in check + and beating out the western edge as before. + </p> + <p> + But his difficulties were increasing. He was farther from the river. It + took longer to get water. One of the barrels fell off and collapsed. Some + of the men were playing out. The horses were wild with excitement and + terror. The smoke was growing denser and hotter. Men were coughing and + gasping through dry, seared lips. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t hold it, Transley; you can’t hold it!” said one of the men. + </p> + <p> + Transley hit him from the shoulder. He crumpled up and collapsed. + </p> + <p> + A mile and a half had been made safe, but the smoke was suffocatingly + thick and the roar of the oncoming fire rose above the shouts of the + fighters. Up galloped the water wagon; made a sharp lurch and turn, and a + front wheel collapsed with the shock. The wagon went down at one corner + and the barrels were dumped on the ground. + </p> + <p> + The men looked at Transley. For one moment he surveyed the situation. + </p> + <p> + “Is there a chain?” he demanded. There was. + </p> + <p> + “Hitch on to the tire of this broken wheel. Some of you men yank the hub + out of it. Others pull grass. Pull, like hell was after you!” + </p> + <p> + They pulled. In a minute or two Transley had the rim of the wheel flat on + the ground, with a team hitched to it and a little pile of dry grass + inside. Then he set fire to the little pile of grass and started the team + slowly along the battle front. As they moved the burning grass in the rim + set fire to the grass on the prairie underneath; the rim partly rubbed it + out again as it came over, and the men were able to keep what remained in + check, but as he lengthened his line Transley had to leave more and more + men to beat out the fire, and had fewer to pull grass. The sacks were too + wet to burn; he had to have grass to feed his moving fire-spreader. + </p> + <p> + At length he had only a teamster and himself, and his fire was going out. + Transley whipped off his shirt, rolled it into a little heap, set fire to + it, and ran along beside the rim, firing the little moving circle of grass + inside. + </p> + <p> + It was the teamster, looking back, who saw Transley fall. He had to drop + the lines to run to his assistance, and the horses, terrified by smoke and + fire and the excitement of the fight, immediately bolted. The teamster + took Transley in his arms and half carried, half dragged him into the safe + area behind the backfires. And a few minutes later the main fire, checked + on its front, swept by on the flank and raced on up through the valley. + </p> + <p> + In riding down to the assistance of Mrs. Landson Zen found herself + suddenly caught in an eddy of smoke. She did not realize at the moment + that the wind had turned; she thought she must have ridden into the fire + area. To avoid the possibility of being cut off by the fire, and also for + better air, she turned her horse to the river. All through the valley were + billows of smoke, with here and there a reddish-yellow glare marking the + more vicious sections of flame. Vaguely, at times, she thought she caught + the shouting of men, but all the heavens seemed full of roaring. + </p> + <p> + When Zen reached the water the smoke was hanging low on it, and she drove + her horse well in. Then she swung down the stream, believing that by + making a detour in this way she could pass the wedge of fire that had + interrupted her and get back on to the trail leading to Landson’s. She was + coughing with the smoke, but rode on in the confidence that presently it + would lift. + </p> + <p> + It did. A whip of wind raised it like a strong arm throwing off a blanket. + She sat up and breathed freely. The hot sun shone through rifts in the + canopy of smoke; the blue sky looked down serene and unmoved by this + outburst of the elements. Then as Zen brought her eyes back to the water + she saw a man on horseback not forty yards ahead. Her first thought was + that it must be one of the fire fighters, driven like herself to safety, + but a second glance revealed George Drazk. For a moment she had an impulse + to wheel and ride out, but even as she smothered that impulse a tinge of + color rose in her cheeks that she should for a moment have entertained it. + To let George Drazk think she was afraid of him would be utmost + humiliation. + </p> + <p> + She continued straight down the stream, but he had already seen her and + was headed her way. In the excitement of what he had just done Drazk was + less responsible than usual. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Zen!” he said. “Mighty decent of you to ride down an’ meet me like + this. Mighty decent, Zen!” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t ride down to meet you, Drazk, and you know it. Keep out of the + way or I’ll use a whip on you!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how haughty! Y.D. all over! Never mind, dear, I like you all the + better for that. Who wants a tame horse? An’ as for comin’ down to meet + me, what’s the odds, so long as we’ve met?” + </p> + <p> + He had turned his horse and blocked the way in front of her. When Zen’s + horse came within reach Drazk caught him by the bridle. + </p> + <p> + “Will you let go?” the girl said, speaking as calmly as she could, but in + a white passion. “Will you let go of that bridle, or shall I make you?” + </p> + <p> + He looked her full in the face. “Gad, but you’re a stunner!” he exclaimed. + “I’m glad we met—here.” + </p> + <p> + She brought her whip with a biting cut around the wrist that held her + bridle. Drazk winced, but did not let go. + </p> + <p> + “Jus’ for that, young Y.D.,” he hissed, “jus’ for that we drop all + formalities, so to speak.” + </p> + <p> + With a dexterous spurring he brought his horse alongside and threw an arm + about Zen before she could beat him off. She used her whip at short range + on his face, but had not arm-room in which to land a blow. They were + stirrup-deep in water, and as they struggled the horses edged in deeper + still. Finding that she could not beat Drazk off Zen clutched her saddle + and drove the spurs into her horse. At this unaccustomed treatment he + plunged wildly forward, but Drazk’s grip on her was too strong to be + broken. The manoeuvre had, however, the effect of unhorsing Drazk. He fell + in the water, but kept his grip on Zen. With his free hand he still had + the reins of his own horse, and he managed also to get hold of hers. + Although her horse was plunging and jumping, Drazk’s strong grip on his + rein kept him from breaking away. + </p> + <p> + “You fight well, Zen, damn you—you fight well,” he cried. “So you + might. You played with me—you made a fool of me. We’ll see who’s the + fool in the end.” With a mighty wrench he tore her from her saddle and she + found herself struggling with him in the water. + </p> + <p> + “If I put you under for a minute I guess you’ll be good,” he threatened. + “I’ll half drown you, Zen, if I have to.” + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead,” she challenged. “I’ll drown myself, if I have to.” + </p> + <p> + “Not just yet, Zen; not just yet. Afterwards you can do as you like.” + </p> + <p> + In their struggles they had been getting gradually into deeper water. At + this moment they found their feet carried free, and the horses began to + swim for the shore. Drazk held to both reins with one hand, still + clutching his victim with the other. More than once they went under water + together and came up half choking. + </p> + <p> + Zen was not a good swimmer, but she would gladly have broken away and + taken chances with the current. Once on land she would be at his mercy. + She was using her head frantically, but could think of no device to foil + him. It was not her practice to carry weapons; her whip had already gone + down the stream. Presently she saw a long leather thong floating out from + the saddle of Drazk’s horse. It was no larger than a whiplash; apparently + it was a spare lace which Drazk carried, and which had worked loose in the + struggle. It was floating close to Drazk. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let me sink, George!” she cried frantically, in sudden fright. + “Save me! I won’t fight any more.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s better,” he said, drawing her up to him. “I knew you’d come to + your senses.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand reached the lash. With a quick motion of the arm, such as is + given in throwing a rope, she had looped it once around his neck. Then, + pulling the lash violently, she fought herself out of his grip. He + clutched at her wildly, but could reach only some stray locks of her brown + hair which had broken loose and were floating on the water. + </p> + <p> + She saw his eyes grow round and big and horrified; saw his mouth open and + refuse to close; heard strange little gurgles and chokings. But she did + not let go. + </p> + <p> + “When you insulted me this morning I promised to settle with you; I did + not expect to have the chance so soon.” + </p> + <p> + His head had gone under water.... Suddenly she realized that he was + drowning. She let go of the thong, clutched her horse’s tail, and was + pulled quickly ashore. + </p> + <p> + Sitting on the gravel, she tried to think. Drazk had disappeared; his + horse had landed somewhat farther down.... Doubtless Drazk had drowned. + Yes, that would be the explanation. Why change it? + </p> + <p> + Zen turned it over in her mind. Why make any explanations? It would be a + good thing to forget. She could not have done otherwise under the + circumstances; no jury would expect her to do otherwise. But why trouble a + jury about it? + </p> + <p> + “He got what was coming to him,” she said to herself presently. She + admitted no regret. On the contrary, her inborn self-confidence, her + assurance that she could take care of herself under any circumstances, + seemed to be strengthened by the experience. + </p> + <p> + She got up, drew her hair into some kind of shape, and scrambled a little + way up the steep bank. Clouds of smoke were rolling up the valley. She did + not grasp the significance of the fact at the first glance, but in a + moment it impacted home to her. The wind had changed! Her help now would + be needed, not by Mrs. Landson, but probably at their own camp. She sprang + on her horse, re-crossed the stream, and set out on a gallop for the camp. + On the way she had to ride through one thin line of fire, which she + accomplished successfully. Through the smoke she could dimly see + Transley’s gang fighting the back-fires. She knew that was in good hands, + and hastened on to the camp. Zen had had prairie experience enough to know + that in hours like this there is almost sure to be something or somebody, + in vital need, overlooked. + </p> + <p> + She galloped into the camp and found only Tompkins there. He had already + run a little back-fire to protect the tents and the chuck-wagon. + </p> + <p> + “How goes it, Tompkins?” she cried, bursting upon him like a courier from + battle. + </p> + <p> + “All set here, Ma’am,” he answered. “All set an’ safe. But they’ll never + hold the main fire; it’ll go up the valley hell-scootin’,—beggin’ + your pardon, Ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyone live up the valley?” + </p> + <p> + “There is. There’s the Lints—squatters about six miles up—it + was from them I got the cream an’ fresh eggs you was good enough to + notice, Ma’am. An’ there’s no men folks about; jus’ Mrs. Lint an’ a young + herd of little Lints; least, that’s all was there las’ night.” + </p> + <p> + “I must go up,” said Zen, with instant decision. “I can get there before + the fire, and as the Lints are evidently farmers there will be some plowed + land, or at least a plow with which to run a furrow so that we can start a + back-fire. Direct me.” + </p> + <p> + Tompkins directed her as to the way, and, leaving a word of explanation to + be passed on to her father, she was off. A half hour’s hard riding brought + her to Lint’s, but she found that this careful settler had made full + provision against such a contingency as was now come about. The farm + buildings, implements, stables, everything was surrounded, not by a + fire-guard, but by a broad plowed field. Mrs. Lint, however, was little + less thankful for Zen’s interest than she would have been had their little + steading been in danger. She pressed Zen to wait and have at least a cup + of tea, and the girl, knowing that she could be of little or no service + down the valley, allowed herself to be persuaded. In this little harbor of + quiet her mind began to arrange the day’s events. The tragic happening at + the river was as yet too recent to appear real; had it not been for the + touch of her wet clothing Zen could have thought that all an unhappy dream + of days ago. She reflected that neither Tompkins nor Mrs. Lint had + commented upon her appearance. The hot sun had soon dried her outer + apparel, and her general dishevelled condition was not remarkable on such + a day as this. + </p> + <p> + The wind had gone down as the afternoon waned, and the fire was working up + the valley leisurely when Zen set out on her return trip. A couple of + miles from the Lint homestead she met its advance guard. It was evening + now; the sun shone dull red through the banked clouds of smoke resting + against the mountains to the west; the flames danced and flickered, + advanced and receded, sprang up and died down again, along mile after mile + of front. It was a beautiful thing to behold, and Zen drew her horse to a + stop on a hill-top to take in the grandeur of the scene. Near at hand + frolicking flames were working about the base of the hill, and far down + the valley and over the foothills the flanks of the fire stretched like + lines of impish infantry in single file. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she heard the sound of hoofs, and a rider drew up at her side. + She supposed him one of Transley’s men, but could not recall having seen + him in the camp. He sat his horse with an ease and grace that her eye was + quick to appraise; he removed his broad felt hat before he spoke; and he + did not call her “ma’am.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me—I believe I am speaking to Y.D.‘s daughter?” he asked, + and before waiting for a reply hastened to introduce himself. “My name is + Dennison Grant, foreman on the Landson ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I thought—I thought you were one of Mr. + Transley’s men.” Then, with a quick sense of the barrier between them, she + added, “I hope you don’t think that I—that we—had anything to + do with this?” She indicated the ruined valley with her hand. + </p> + <p> + “No more than I had to do with those coward’s stakes,” he answered. + “Neither of us understand just now, but can we take that much for + granted?” + </p> + <p> + There was something about him that rather appealed to her. “I think we + can,” she said, simply. + </p> + <p> + For a moment they watched the kaleidoscopic scene below them. “It may help + you to understand,” she continued, “if I say that I was riding down to see + if I could be of some use to Mrs. Landson when the wind changed, and I saw + I would be more likely to be needed here.” + </p> + <p> + “And it may help you to understand,” he said, “if I say that as soon as + immediate danger to the Landson ranch was over I rode up to Transley’s + camp. Only the cook was there, and he told me of your having set out to + help Mrs. Lint, so I followed up. Fortunately the fire has lost its punch; + it will probably go out through the night.” + </p> + <p> + There was a short silence, in which she began to realize her peculiar + position. This man was the rival of Transley and Linder in the business of + hay-cutting in the valley. He was the foreman of the Landson crowd—Landson, + against whom her father had been voicing something very near to murder + threats not many hours ago. Had she met him before the fire she would have + spurned and despised him, but nothing unites the factions of man like a + fight against a common elemental enemy. Besides, there was the question, + How DID the fire start? That was a question which every Landson man would + be asking. Grant had been generous about it; he had asked her to be + equally generous about the episode of the stakes.... And there was + something about the man that appealed to her. She had never felt that way + about Transley or Linder. She had been interested in them; amused, + perhaps; out for an adventure, perhaps; but this man—Nonsense! It + was the environment—the romantic setting. As for Drazk—A quick + sense of horror caught her as the memory of his choking face protruded + into her consciousness.... + </p> + <p> + “Well, suppose we ride home,” he suggested. “By Jove! The fire has worked + around us.” + </p> + <p> + It was true. The hill on which they stood was now entirely surrounded by a + ring of fire, eating slowly up the side. The warmth of its breath already + pressed against their faces; the funnel effect created by the circle of + fire was whipping up a stronger draught. The smoke seemed to be gathering + to a centre above them. + </p> + <p> + He swung up close to her. “Will your horse face it?” he asked. “If not, + we’d better blindfold him.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll try him,” she said. “He was all right this afternoon, but he was + reckless then with a hard gallop.” + </p> + <p> + Zen’s horse trotted forward at her urging to within a dozen yards of the + circle of fire. Then he stopped, snorting and shivering. She rode back up + the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Better blindfold him,” Grant advised, pulling off his leather coat. “A + sleeve of my shirt should be about right. Will you cut it off?” + </p> + <p> + She protested. + </p> + <p> + “There’s no time to lose,” he reminded her, as he placed his knife in her + hand. “My horse will go through it all right.” + </p> + <p> + So urged she deftly cut off his sleeve above the elbow and drew it through + the bridle of her horse across his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Now keep your head down close to his neck. You’ll go through all right. + Give him the spurs, and good luck!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + She was already careering down the hillside. A few paces from the fire the + horse plunged into a badger hole and fell headlong. She went over his + head, down, with a terrific shock, almost in the very teeth of the fire. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + When Zen came to herself it was with a sense of a strange swimming in her + head. Gradually it resolved itself into a sound of water about her head; a + splashing, fighting water; two heads in the water; two heads in the water; + a lash floating in the water— + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” She was sure she felt water on her face.... + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” + </p> + <p> + “You’re all right—you’ll be all right in a little while.” + </p> + <p> + “But where am I? What has happened?” She tried to sit up. All was dark. + “Where am I?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be alarmed, Zen—I think your name is Zen,” she heard a man’s + voice saying. “You’ve been hurt, but you’ll be all right presently.” + </p> + <p> + Then the curtain lifted. “You are Dennison Grant,” she said. “I remember + you now. But what has happened? Why am I here—with you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, so far, you’ve been enjoying about three hours’ unconsciousness,” + he told her. “At a distance which seems about a mile from here—although + it may be less—is a little pond. I’ve carried water in the sleeve of + my coat—fortunately it is leather—and poured it somewhat + generously upon your brow. And at last I’ve been rewarded by a conscious + word.” + </p> + <p> + She tried to sit up, but desisted when a sudden twitch of pain held her + fast. + </p> + <p> + “Let me help you,” he said, gently. “We have camped, as you may notice, on + a big, flat rock. I found it not far from the scene of the accident, so I + carried you over to it. It is drier than the earth, and, for the forepart + of the night at least, will be warmer.” With a strong arm about her + shoulders he drew her into a sitting posture. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. “What’s wrong with my + foot?” she demanded. “My boot’s off.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid you turned your ankle getting free from your stirrup,” he + explained. “I had to do a little surgery. I could find nothing broken. It + will be painful, but I fear there is nothing to do but bear it.” + </p> + <p> + She reached down and felt her foot. It was neatly bandaged with cloth very + much like that which she had used to blindfold Quiver. It was easy to + surmise where it came from. Evidently her protector had stopped at + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Well, are we to stay here permanently?” she asked, presently. + </p> + <p> + “Only for the night,” he told her. “If we’re lucky, not that long. Search + parties will be hunting for you, and they will doubtless ride this way. + Both of our horses bolted in the fire—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, the fire! Tell me what happened.” + </p> + <p> + He hesitated. + </p> + <p> + “I remember riding into the fire,” she continued, “and then next thing I + was on this rock. How did it all happen?” + </p> + <p> + “Your horse fell,” he explained, “just as you reached the fire, and threw + you, pretty heavily, to the ground. I was behind, so I dismounted and + dragged you through.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” She felt her face. “But I am not even singed!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + It was plain that he was holding something back. She turned and laid her + fingers on his arm. “Tell me how you did it,” she pressed. + </p> + <p> + The darkness hid his modest confusion. “It was really nothing,” he + stammered. “You see, I had a leather coat, and I just threw it over your + head—and mine—and dragged you out.” + </p> + <p> + She was silent for a moment while the meaning of his words came home to + her. Then she placed her hand frankly in his. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” she said, and even in the darkness she knew that their eyes + had met. + </p> + <p> + “You are very resourceful,” she continued presently. “Must we sit here all + night?” + </p> + <p> + “I can think of no alternative,” he confessed. “If we had fire-arms we + could shoot a signal, or if there were grass about we could start a fire, + although it probably would not be noticed with so many glows on the + horizon to-night.” He stopped to look about. Dull splashes of red in the + sky pointed out remnants of the day’s conflagration still eating their way + through the foothills. The air was full of the pungent but not unpleasant + smell of burnt grass. + </p> + <p> + “A pretty hard night to send a signal,” he said, “but they’re almost sure + to ride this way.” + </p> + <p> + She wondered why he did not offer to walk to the camp for help; it could + not be more than four or five miles. Suddenly she thought she understood. + </p> + <p> + “I am not afraid to stay here alone,” she said, with a little laugh. It + was the first time Grant had heard her laugh, and he thought it very + musical indeed. “I’ve slept out many a night, and you would be back within + a couple of hours.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m quite sure you’re not afraid,” he agreed, “but, you see, I am. You + got quite a tap on the head, and for some time before you came to you were + talking—rather foolishly. Now if I should leave you it is not only + possible, but quite probable, that you would lapse again into + unconsciousness.... I really think you’ll have to put up with me here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wasn’t thinking of that!... Did I—did I talk—foolishly?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather. Seemed to think you were swimming—or fighting—I + couldn’t be sure which. Sometimes you seemed to be doing both.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” With a cold chill the events of the day came back upon her. That + struggle in the water; it came to her now like a bad dream out of the + long, long past. How much had she said? How much would she have given to + know what she said? She felt herself recounting events.... + </p> + <p> + Presently she pulled herself up with a start. She must not let him think + her moody. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if we MUST enjoy each other’s company, we may as well do so + companionably,” she said, with an effort at gaiety. “Let us talk. Tell me + about yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “First things first,” he parried. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ve nothing to tell. My life has been very unromantic. A few years + at school, and the rest of it on the range. A very every-day kind of + existence.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it’s the ‘every-day kind of existence’ that IS romantic,” he + returned. “It is a great mistake to think of romance as belonging to other + times and other places. Even the most commonplace person has experienced + romance enough for a dozen books. Quite possibly he has not recognized the + romance, but it was there. The trouble is that with our limited sense of + humor, what we think of as romance in other people’s lives becomes tragedy + in our own.” + </p> + <p> + How much DID he know?... “Yes,” she said, “I suppose that is so.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it is so,” he went on. “If we could read the thoughts—know + the experiences—of those nearest to us, we would never need to look + out of our own circles for either romance or tragedy. But it is as well + that we can’t. Take the experience of to-day, for example. I admit it has + not been a commonplace day, and yet it has not been altogether + extraordinary. Think of the experiences we have been through just this + day, and how, if they were presented in fiction they would be romantic, + almost unbelievable. And here we are at the close, sitting on a rock, + matter-of-fact people in a matter-of-fact world, accepting everything as + commonplace and unexceptional.” + </p> + <p> + “Not quite that,” she said daringly. “I see that you are neither + commonplace nor unexceptional.” She spoke with sudden impulse out of the + depth of her sincerity. She had not met a man like this before. In her + mind she fixed him in contrast with Transley, the self-confident and + aggressive, and Linder, the shy and unassertive. None of those adjectives + seemed to fit this new acquaintance. Nevertheless, he suffered nothing by + the contrast. + </p> + <p> + “If I had been bright enough I would have said that first,” he apologized, + “but I got rather carried away in one of my pet theories about romance. + Now my life, I suppose, to many people would seem quite tame and + unromantic, but to me it has been a delightful succession of somewhat + placid adventures. It began in a very orthodox way, in a very orthodox + family. My father, under the guidance, no doubt, of whatever star governs + such lucky affairs, became possessed of a piece of land. In doing so he + contributed to society no service whatever, so far as I have been able to + ascertain. But it so fell about that society, in considerable numbers, + wanted his land to live on, so society made of my father a wealthy man, + and gave him power over many people. Could anything be more romantic than + that? Could the fairy tales of your childhood surpass it for benevolent + irresponsibility?” + </p> + <p> + “My father has also become wealthy,” she said, “although I never thought + of it in that way.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but in exchange for his wealth your father has given service to + society; supplied many thousands of steers for hungry people to eat. + That’s a different story, but not less romantic. + </p> + <p> + “Well, to proceed. I was brought up to fit my station in life, whatever + that means. There were just two boys of us, and I was the elder. My father + had become a broker. I believe he had become quite a successful broker, + using the word in its ordinary sense, which denotes the making of money. + You see, he already had too much money, so it was very easy for him to + make more. He wanted me to go into the office with him, but some way I + didn’t fit in. I’ve no doubt there was lots of romance there, too, but I + was of the wrong nature; I simply couldn’t get enthusiastic over it. As we + already had more money than we could possibly spend on things that were + good for us, I failed to see the point in sitting up nights to increase + it. Being of a frank disposition I confided in my father that I felt I was + wasting my time in a broker’s office. He, being of an equally frank + disposition, confided in me that he entertained the same opinion. + </p> + <p> + “Then I delivered myself of some of my pet theories about wealth. I told + him that I didn’t believe that any man had a right to money unless he + earned it in return for service given to society, and I said that as + society had to supply the money, society should determine the amount. I + confessed that I was a little hazy about how that was to be carried out, + but I insisted that the principle was right, and, that being so, the + working of it out was only a matter of detail. I realize now that this was + all fanatical heresy to my father; I remember the pained look that came + into his eyes. I thought at the time that it was anger, but I know now + that it was grief—grief and humiliation that a son of his should + entertain such wild and unbalanced ideas. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there was more talk, and the upshot of it was that I got out, + accompanied by an assurance from my father that I would never be burdened + with any of the family ducats. Roy—my younger brother—succeeded + to the worries of wealth, and I came to the ranges where, no doubt to the + deep chagrin of my father, I have been able to make a living, and have, + incidentally, been profoundly happy. I’ll take a wager that to-day I look + ten years younger than Roy, that I can lick him with one hand, that I have + more real friends than he has, and that I’m getting more out of life than + he is. I’m a man of whims. When they beckon I follow.” + </p> + <p> + Grant had been talking intensely. He paused now, feeling that his + enthusiasm had carried him into rather fuller confidences than he had + intended. + </p> + <p> + “I’m sorry I bored you with that harangue,” he said contritely. “You + couldn’t possibly be interested in it.” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I am very much interested in it,” she protested. “It + seems so much finer for a man to make his own way, rather than be lifted + up by someone else. I am sure you are already doing well in the West. Some + day you will go back to your father with more money than he has.” + </p> + <p> + Grant uttered an amused little laugh. + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid you would say that,” he answered. “You see, you don’t + understand me, either. I don’t want to make money. Can you understand + that?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t want to make money? Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should I?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, everybody does. Money is power—it is a mark of success. It + would open up a wider life for you. It would bring you into new circles. + Some day you will want to marry and settle down, and money would enable + you to meet the kind of women—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, confused. She had plunged farther than she had intended. + </p> + <p> + “You’re all wrong,” he said amusedly. It did not even occur to Zen that he + was contradicting her. She had not been accustomed to being contradicted, + but then, neither had she been accustomed to men like Dennison Grant, nor + to conversations such as had developed. She was too interested to be + annoyed. + </p> + <p> + “You’re all wrong, Miss—?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t wonder that you can’t fill in my name,” she said. “Nobody knows + Dad except as Y.D. But I heard you call me Zen—” + </p> + <p> + “That was when you were coming out of your unconsciousness. I apologize + for the liberty taken. I thought it might recall you—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m still coming out,” she interrupted. “I am beginning to feel + that I have been unconscious for a very long time indeed. Let me hear why + you don’t want money.” + </p> + <p> + Grant was aware of a pleasant glow excited by her frank interest. She was + altogether a desirable girl. + </p> + <p> + “I have observed,” he said, “that poor people worry over what they haven’t + got, and rich people worry over what they have. It is my disposition not + to worry over anything. You said that money is power. That is one of its + deceits. It offers a man power, but in reality it makes him its slave. It + enchains him for life; I have seen it in too many cases—I am not + mistaken. As for opening up a wider life, what wider life could there be + than this which I—which you and I—are living?” + </p> + <p> + She wondered why he had said “you and I.” Evidently he was wondering too, + for he fell into reflection. She changed her position to ease the dull + pain in her ankle, which his talk had almost driven from her mind. The + rock had a perpendicular edge, so she let her feet hang over, resting the + injured one upon the other. He was sitting in a similar position. The + silence of the night had gathered about them, broken occasionally by the + yapping of coyotes far down the valley. Segments of dull light fringed the + horizon; the breeze was again blowing from the west, mild and balmy. + Presently one of the segments of light grew and grew. It was as though it + were rushing up the valley. They watched it, fascinated; then burst into + laughter as the orb of the moon became recognizable.... There was + something very companionable about watching the moon rise, as they did. + </p> + <p> + “The greatest wealth in the world,” he said at length, as though his + thoughts had been far afield, searching, perchance, the mazy corridors of + Truth for this atom of wisdom; “the greatest wealth in the world is to be + able to do something useful. That is the only wealth which will not be + disturbed in the coming reorganization of society.” + </p> + <p> + Zen did not reply. For the first time in her life she stood convicted, + before her own mind, of a very profound ignorance. Dennison Grant had been + drawing back the curtain of a world of the existence of which she had + never known. He had talked to her about “the coming reorganization of + society”? What did it mean? She was at home in discussions of herds or + horses; she was at home with the duties of kitchen or reception-room; she + was at home with her father or Transley or Linder or Drazk or Tompkins the + cook, but Dennison Grant in an hour had carried her into a far country, + where she would be hopelessly lost but for his guidance.... Yet it seemed + a good and interesting country. She wanted to enter in—to know it + better. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me about the coming reorganization of society,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “That is an all-night order,” he returned. “Besides, I can’t tell you all, + because I don’t know all. I know only very, very little. I see my little + gleam of light and keep my eye close upon it. But you must know that + society is always in a state of reorganization. Nothing continues as it + was. Those who dismiss a problem glibly by saying it has always been so + and always will be so don’t read history and don’t understand human + nature.” + </p> + <p> + He turned toward her as interest in his theme developed. The moonlight was + now pouring upon them; her face was beautiful and fine as marble in its + soft rays. For a moment he hesitated, overwhelmed by a sudden realization + of her attractiveness. He had just been saying that the law of nature was + the law of change, and nature itself stood up to refute him. + </p> + <p> + He brought himself back to earth. “I was saying that everything changes,” + he continued. “Look at our economic system, for instance. Not so many + centuries ago the man who got the most wealth was the man with the biggest + muscle and the toughest skin. He wielded a stout club, and what he wanted, + he took. His system of operation was simple and direct. You have money, + you have cattle, you have a wife—I’m speaking of the times that + were. I am stronger than you. I take them. Simplicity itself!” + </p> + <p> + “But very unjust,” she protested. + </p> + <p> + “Our sense of justice is due to our education,” he continued. “If we are + taught to believe that a certain thing is just, we believe it is just. I + am convinced that there is no sense of justice inherent in humanity; + whatever sense we have is the result of education, and the kind of justice + we believe in is the kind of justice to which we are educated. For + example, the justice of the plains is not the justice of the cities; the + justice of the vigilance committee is not the justice of judge and jury. + Now to get back to our subject. When Baron Battle Ax, back in the fifth or + sixth century, knocked all his rivals on the head and took their wealth + away from them, I suppose there was here and there an advanced thinker who + said the thing was unjust, but I am quite sure the great majority of + people said things had always been that way and always would be that way. + But the little minority of thinkers gradually grew in strength. The Truth + was with them. It is worthy of notice that the advance guard of Truth + always travels with minorities. And the day came that society organized + itself to say that the man who uses physical force to take wealth from + another is an enemy of society and must not be allowed at large. + </p> + <p> + “But we have passed largely out of the era of physical force. To-day, an + engineer presses a button and releases more physical force than could be + commanded by all the armies of Rome. Brain power is to-day the dominant + power. And just as physical force was once used to take wealth without + earning it, so is brain force now used to take wealth without earning it. + And just as the masses in the days of Battle Ax said things had always + been that way and always would be that way, just so do the masses in these + days of brain supremacy say things have always been that way and always + will be that way. But just as there was a minority with an advanced vision + of Truth in those days, so is there a minority with an advanced vision of + Truth in these days. You may be absolutely sure that, just as society + found a way to deal with muscle brigands, so also it will find a way to + deal with brain brigands. I confess I don’t see how the details are to be + worked out, but there must be a plan under which the value of the services + rendered to society by every man and every woman will be determined, and + they will be rewarded according to the services rendered.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that Socialism?” she ventured. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I don’t think so. Certainly it does not contemplate an + equal distribution of the world’s wealth. Some men are a menace to + themselves and society when they have a hundred dollars. Others can be + trusted with a hundred million. All men have not been equally gifted by + nature—we know that. We can’t make them equal. But surely we can + prevent the gifted ones from preying upon those who are not gifted. That + is what the coming reorganization of society will aim to do.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very interesting,” she said. “And very deep. I have never heard it + discussed before. Why don’t people think about these things more?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” he answered, “but I suppose it is because they are too + busy in the fight. When a self was dodging Battle Ax he hadn’t much time + to think about evolving a Magna Charta. But most of all I suppose it is + just natural laziness. People refuse to think. It calls for effort. Most + people would find it easier to pitch a load of hay than to think of a new + thought.” + </p> + <p> + The moon was now well up; the smoke clouds had been scattered by the + breeze; the sky was studded with diamonds. Zen had a feeling of being very + happy. True, a certain haunting spectre at times would break into her + consciousness, but in the companionship of such a man as Grant she could + easily beat it off. She studied the face in the moon, and invited her + soul. She was living through a new experience—an experience she + could not understand. In spite of the discomfort of her injuries, in spite + of the events of the day, she was very, very happy.... + </p> + <p> + If only that horrid memory of Drazk would not keep tormenting her! She + began to have some glimpse of what remorse must mean. She did not blame + herself; she could not have done otherwise; and yet—it was horrible + to think about, and it would not stay away. She felt a tremendous desire + to tell Grant all about it.... She wondered how much he knew. He must have + discovered that her clothing had been wet. + </p> + <p> + She shivered slightly. + </p> + <p> + “You’re cold,” he said, as he placed his arm about her, and there was + something very far removed from political economy in the timbre of his + voice. + </p> + <p> + “I’m a little chilly,” she admitted. “I had to swim my horse across the + river to-day—he got into a deep spot—and I got wet.” She + congratulated herself that she had made a very clever explanation. + </p> + <p> + He put his coat about her shoulders and drew it tight. Then he sat beside + her in silence. There were many things he could have said, but this seemed + to be neither the time nor the place. Grant was not Transley. He had for + this girl a delicate consideration which Transley’s nature could never + know. Grant was a thinker—Transley a doer. Grant knew that the charm + which enveloped him in this girl’s presence was the perfectly natural + product of a set of conditions. He was worldly-wise enough to suspect that + Zen also felt that charm. It was as natural as the bursting of a seed in + moist soil; as natural as the unfolding of a rose in warm air.... + </p> + <p> + Presently he felt her head rest against his shoulder. He looked down upon + her in awed delight. Her eyes had closed; her lips were smiling faintly; + her figure had relaxed. He could feel her warm breath upon his face. He + could have touched her lips with his. + </p> + <p> + Slowly the moon traced its long arc in the heavens. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + Just as the first flush of dawn mellowed the East Grant heard the pounding + of horses’ feet and the sound of voices borne across the valley. They + rapidly approached; he could tell by the hard pounding of the hoofs that + they were on a trail which he took to be the one he had followed before he + met Zen. It passed possibly a hundred yards to the left. He must in some + way make his presence known. + </p> + <p> + The girl had slept soundly, almost without stirring. Now he must wake her. + He shook her gently, and called her name; her eyes opened; he could see + them, strange and wondering, in the thin grey light. Then, with a sudden + start, she was quite awake. + </p> + <p> + “I have been sleeping!” she exclaimed, reproachfully. “You let me sleep!” + </p> + <p> + “No use of two watching the moon,” he returned, lightly. + </p> + <p> + “But you shouldn’t have let me sleep,” she reprimanded. “Besides, you had + to stay awake. You have had no sleep at all!” + </p> + <p> + There was a sympathy in her voice very pleasant to the ear. But Grant + could not continue so delightful an indulgence. + </p> + <p> + “I had to wake you,” he explained. “There are several people riding up the + valley; undoubtedly a search party. I must attract their attention.” + </p> + <p> + They listened, and could now hear the hoof-beats close at hand. Grant + called; not a loud shout; it seemed little more than his speaking voice, + but instantly there was silence, save for the echo of the sound rolling + down the valley. Then a voice answered, and Grant gave a word or two of + directions. In a minute or two several horsemen loomed up through the + vague light. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are,” said Zen, as she distinguished her father. “Gone lame on + the off foot and held up for repairs.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. swung down from his saddle. “Are you all right, Zen?” he cried, as he + advanced with outstretched arms. There was an eagerness and a relief in + his voice which would have surprised many who knew Y.D. only as a shrewd + cattleman. + </p> + <p> + Zen accepted and returned his embrace, with a word of assurance that she + was really nothing the worse. Then she introduced her companion. + </p> + <p> + “This is Mr. Dennison Grant, foreman of the Landson ranch, Dad.” + </p> + <p> + Grant extended his hand, but Y.D. hesitated. The truce occasioned by the + fire did not by any means imply permanent peace. Far from it, with the + valley in ruins— + </p> + <p> + Y.D. was stiffening, but his daughter averted what would in another moment + have been an embarrassing situation with a quick remark. + </p> + <p> + “This is no time, even for explanations,” she said, “except that Mr. Grant + saved my life last evening at the risk of his own, and has lost a night’s + sleep for his pains.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a man’s work,” said Y.D. It would not have been possible for his + lips to have framed a greater compliment. “I’m obliged to you, Grant. You + know how it is with us cattlemen; we run mostly to horns and hoofs, but I + suppose we have some heart, too, if you can find it.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands with as much cordiality as the situation permitted, and + then Zen introduced Transley and Linder, who were in the party. There were + two or three others whom she did not know, but they all shook hands. + </p> + <p> + “What happened, Zen?” said Transley, with his usual directness. “Give us + the whole story.” + </p> + <p> + Then she told them what she knew, from the point where she had met Grant + on the fire-encircled hill. + </p> + <p> + “Two lucky people—two lucky people,” was all Transley’s comment. + Words could not have expressed the jealousy he felt. But Linder was not + too shy to place his hand with a friendly pressure upon Grant’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Good work,” he said, and with two words sealed a friendship. + </p> + <p> + Two of the unnamed members of the party volunteered their horses to Zen + and Grant, and all hands started back to camp. Y.D. talked almost + garrulously; not even himself had known how heavily the hand of Fate had + lain on him through the night. + </p> + <p> + “The haymakin’ is all off, Darter,” he said. “We will trek back to the + Y.D. as soon as you feel fit. The steers will have to take chances next + winter.” + </p> + <p> + The girl professed her fitness to make the trip at once, and indeed they + did make it that very day. Y.D. pressed Grant to remain for breakfast, and + Tompkins, notwithstanding the demoralization of equipment and supplies + effected by the fire, again excelled himself. After breakfast the old + rancher found occasion for a word with Grant. + </p> + <p> + “You know how it is, Grant,” he said. “There’s a couple of things that + ain’t explained, an’ perhaps it’s as well all round not to press for + opinions. I don’t know how the iron stakes got in my meadow, an’ you don’t + know how the fire got in yours. But I give you Y.D.‘s word—which + goes at par except in a cattle trade—” and Y.D. laughed cordially at + his own limitations—“I give you my word that I don’t know any more + about the fire than you do.” + </p> + <p> + “And I don’t know anything more about the stakes than you do,” returned + Grant. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, let it stand at that. But mind,” he added, with returning + heat, “I’m not committin’ myself to anythin’ in advance. This grass’ll + grow again next year, an’ by heavens if I want it I’ll cut it! No son of a + sheep herder can bluff Y.D!” + </p> + <p> + Grant did not reply. He had heard enough of Y.D.‘s boisterous nature to + make some allowances. + </p> + <p> + “An’ mind I mean it,” continued Y.D., whose chagrin over being baffled out + of a thousand tons of hay overrode, temporarily at least, his appreciation + of Grant’s services. “Mind, I mean it. No monkey-doodles next season, + young man.” + </p> + <p> + Obviously Y.D. was becoming worked up, and it seemed to Grant that the + time had come to speak. + </p> + <p> + “There will be none,” he said, quietly. “If you come over the hills to cut + the South Y.D. next summer I will personally escort you home again.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. stood open-mouthed. It was preposterous that this young upstart + foreman on a second-rate ranch like Landson’s should deliberately defy + him. + </p> + <p> + “You see, Y.D.,” continued Grant, with provoking calmness, “I’ve seen the + papers. You’ve run a big bluff in this country. You’ve occupied rather + more territory than was coming to you. In a word, you’ve been a good bit + of a bully. Now—let me break it to you gently—those good old + days are over. In future you’re going to stay on your own side of the + line. If you crowd over you’ll be pushed back. You have no more right to + the hay in this valley than you have to the hide on Landson’s steers, and + you’re not going to cut it any more, at all.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. exploded in somewhat ineffective profanity. He had a wide vocabulary + of invective, but most of it was of the stand-and-fight variety. There is + some language which is not to be used, unless you are willing to have it + out on the ground, there and then. Y.D. had no such desire. Possibly a + curious sense of honor entered into the case. It was not fair to call a + young man names, and although there was considerable truth in Grant’s + remark that Y.D. was a bully, his bullying did not take that form. + Possibly, also, he recalled at that moment the obligation under which + Zen’s accident had placed him. At any rate he wound up rather lamely. + </p> + <p> + “Grant,” he said, “if I want that hay next year I’ll cut it, spite o’ hell + an’ high water.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, Y.D.,” said Grant, cheerfully. “We’ll see. Now, if you can + spare me a horse to ride home, I’ll have him sent back immediately.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. went to find Transley and arrange for a horse, and in a moment Zen + appeared from somewhere. + </p> + <p> + “You’ve been quarreling with Dad,” she said, half reproachfully, and yet + in a tone which suggested that she could understand. + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly that,” he parried. “We were just having a frank talk with + each other.” + </p> + <p> + “I know something of Dad’s frank talks... I’m sorry... I would have liked + to ask you to come and see me—to see us—my mother would be + glad to see you. I can hardly ask you to come if you are going to be bad + friends with Dad.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I suppose not,” he admitted. + </p> + <p> + “You were very good to me; very—decent,” she continued. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Transley, Linder, and Y.D. appeared, with two horses. + </p> + <p> + “Linder will ride over with you and bring back the spare beast,” said Y.D. + </p> + <p> + Grant shook hands, rather formally, with Y.D. and Transley, and then with + Zen. She murmured some words of thanks, and just as he would have + withdrawn his hand he felt her fingers tighten very firmly about his. He + answered the pressure, and turned quickly away. + </p> + <p> + Transley immediately struck camp, and Y.D. and his daughter drove + homeward, somewhat painfully, over the blackened hills. + </p> + <p> + Transley lost no time in finding other employment. It was late in the + season to look for railway contracts, and continued dry weather had made + grading, at best, a somewhat difficult business. Influx of ready money and + of those who follow it had created considerable activity in a neighboring + centre which for twenty years had been the principal cow-town of the + foothill country. In defiance of all tradition, and, most of all, in + defiance of the predictions of the ranchers who had known it so long for a + cow-town and nothing more, the place began to grow. No one troubled to + inquire exactly why it should grow, or how. As for Transley, it was enough + for him that team labor was in demand. He took a contract, and three days + after the fire in the foothills he was excavating for business blocks + about to be built in the new metropolis. + </p> + <p> + It was no part of Transley’s plan, however, to quite lose touch with the + people on the Y.D. They were, in fact, the centre about which he had been + doing some very serious thinking. His outspokenness with Zen and her + father had had in it a good deal of bravado—the bravado of a man who + could afford to lose the stake, and smile over it. In short, he had not + cared whether he offended them or not. Transley was a very self-reliant + contractor; he gave, even to the millionaire rancher, no more homage than + he demanded in return.... Still, Zen was a very desirable girl. As he + turned the matter over in his mind Transley became convinced that he + wanted Zen. With Transley, to want a thing meant to get it. He always + found a way. And he was now quite sure that he wanted Zen. He had not + known that positively until the morning when he found her in the grey + light of dawn with Dennison Grant. There was a suggestion of companionship + there between the two which had cut him to the quick. Like most ambitious + men, Transley was intensely jealous. + </p> + <p> + Up to this time Transley had not thought seriously of matrimony. A wife + and children he regarded as desirable appendages for declining years—for + the quiet and shade of that evening toward which every active man looks + with such irrational confidence. But for the heat of the day—for the + climb up the hill—they would be unnecessary encumbrances. Transley + always took a practical view of these matters. It need hardly be stated + that he had never been in love; in fact Transley would have scouted the + idea of any passion which would throw the practical to the winds. That was + a thing for weaklings, and, possibly, for women. + </p> + <p> + But his attachment for Zen was a very practical matter. Zen was the only + heir to the Y.D. wealth. She would bring to her husband capital and credit + which Transley could use to good advantage in his business. She would also + bring personality—a delightful individuality—of which any man + might be proud. She had that fine combination of attractions which is + expressed in the word charm. She had health, constitution, beauty. She had + courage and sympathy. She had qualities of leadership. She would bring to + him not only the material means to build a house, but the spiritual + qualities which make a home. She would make him the envy of all his + acquaintances. And a jealous man loves to be envied. + </p> + <p> + So after the work on the excavations had been properly started Transley + turned over the detail to the always dependable Linder, and, remarking + that he had not had a final settlement with Y.D., set out for the ranch in + the foothills. While spending the long autumn day alone in the buggy he + was able to turn over and develop plans on an even more ambitious scale + than had occurred to him amid the hustle of his men and horses. + </p> + <p> + The valley was lying very warm and beautiful in yellow light, and the + setting sun was just capping the mountains with gold and painting great + splashes of copper and bronze on the few clouds becalmed in the heavens, + when Transley’s tired team jogged in among the cluster of buildings known + as the Y.D. The rancher met him at the bunk-house. He greeted Transley + with a firm grip of his great palm, and with jaws open in suggestion of a + sort of carnivorous hospitality. + </p> + <p> + “Come up to the house, Transley,” he said, turning the horses over to the + attention of a ranch hand. “Supper is just ready, an’ the women will be + glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + Zen, walking with a limp, met them at the gate. Transley’s eyes reassured + him that he had not been led astray by any process of idealization; Zen + was all his mind had been picturing her. She was worth the effort. Indeed, + a strange sensation of tenderness suffused him as he walked by her side to + the door, supporting her a little with his hand. There they were ushered + in by the rancher’s wife, and Zen herself showed Transley to a cool room + where were white towels and soft water from the river and quiet and + restful furnishings. Transley congratulated himself that he could hardly + hope to be better received. + </p> + <p> + After supper he had a social drink with Y.D., and then the two sat on the + veranda and smoked and discussed business. Transley found Y.D. more + liberal in the adjustment than he had expected. He had not yet realized to + what an extent he had won the old rancher’s confidence, and Y.D. was a man + who, when his confidence had been won, never haggled over details. He was + willing to compromise the loss on the operations on the South Y.D. on a + scale that was not merely just, but generous. + </p> + <p> + This settled, Transley proceeded to interest Y.D. in the work in which he + was now engaged. He drew a picture of activities in the little metropolis + such as stirred the rancher’s incredulity. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” Y.D. would say. “Transley, I’ve known that little hole for + about thirty years, an’ never seen it was any good excep’ to get drunk + in.... I’ve seen more things there than is down in the books.” + </p> + <p> + “You wouldn’t know the change that has come about in a few months,” said + Transley, with enthusiasm. “Double shifts working by electric light, Y.D! + What do you think of that? Men with rolls of money that would choke a cow + sleeping out in tents because they can’t get a roof over them. Why, man, I + didn’t have to hunt a job there; the job hunted me. I could have had a + dozen jobs at my own price if I could have handled them. It’s just as if + prosperity was a river which had been trickling through that town for + thirty years, and all of a sudden the dam up in the foothills gives away + and down she comes with a rush. Lots which sold a year ago for a hundred + dollars are selling now for five hundred—sometimes more. Old + ranchers living on the bald-headed a few years ago find themselves today + the owners of city property worth millions, and are dressing + uncomfortably, in keeping with their wealth, or vainly trying to drink up + the surplus. So far sense and brains has had nothing to do with it, Y.D., + absolutely nothing. It has been fool luck. But the brains are coming in + now, and the brains will get the money, in the long run.” + </p> + <p> + Transley paused and lit another cigar. Y.D. rolled his in his lips, + reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “I mind some doin’s in that burg,” he said, as though the memory of them + was of greater importance than all that might be happening now. + </p> + <p> + Transley switched back to business. “We ought to be in on it, Y.D.,” he + said. “Not on the fly-by-night stuff; I don’t mean that. But I could take + twice the contracts if I had twice the outfit.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. brought his chair down on to all four legs and removed his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “You mean we should hit her together?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “It would be a great compliment to me, if you had that confidence in me, + and I’m sure it would make some good money for you.” + </p> + <p> + “How’d you work it?” + </p> + <p> + “You have a bunch of horses running here on the ranch, eating their heads + off. Many of them are broke, and the others would soon tame down with a + scraper behind them. Give them to me and let me put them to work. I’d have + to have equipment, too. Your name on the back of my note would get it, and + you wouldn’t actually have to put up a dollar. Then we’d make an inventory + of what you put into the firm and what I put into it, and we’d divide the + earnings in proportion.” + </p> + <p> + “After payin’ you a salary as manager, of course,” suggested Y.D. + </p> + <p> + “That’s immaterial. With a bigger outfit and more capital I can make so + much more money out of the earnings that I don’t care whether I get a + salary or not. But I wouldn’t figure on going on contracting all the time + for other people. We might as well have the cream as the skimmed milk. + This is the way it’s done. We go to the owner of a block of lots somewhere + where there’s no building going on. He’s anxious to start something, + because as soon as building starts in that district the lots will sell for + two or three times what they do now. We say to him, ‘Give us every second + lot in your block and we’ll put a house on it.’ In this way we get the + lots for a trifle; perhaps for nothing. Then we build a lot of houses, + more or less to the same plan. We put ‘em up quick and cheap. We build ‘em + to sell, not to live in. Then we mortgage ‘em for the last cent we can + get. Then we put the price up to twice what the mortgage is and sell them + as fast as we can build them, getting our equity out and leaving the + purchasers to settle with the mortgage company. It’s good for from thirty + to forty per cent, profit, not per annum, but per transaction.” + </p> + <p> + “It sounds interesting,” said Y.D., “an’ I suppose I might as well put my + spare horses an’ credit to work. I don’t mind drivin’ down with you + to-morrow an’ looking her over first hand.” + </p> + <p> + This was all Transley had hoped for, and the talk turned to less material + matters. After a while Zen joined them, and a little later Y.D. left to + attend to some business at the bunk-house. + </p> + <p> + “Your father and I may go into partnership, Zen,” Transley said to her, + when they were alone together. He explained in a general way the venture + that was afoot. + </p> + <p> + “That will be very interesting,” she agreed. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be interested?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. I am interested in everything that Dad undertakes.” + </p> + <p> + “And are you not—will you not be—just a little interested in + the things that I undertake?” + </p> + <p> + She paused a moment before replying. The dusk had settled about them, and + he could not see the contour of her face, but he knew that she had + realized the significance of his question. + </p> + <p> + “Why yes,” she said at length, “I will be interested in what you + undertake. You will be Dad’s partner.” + </p> + <p> + Her evasion nettled him. + </p> + <p> + “Zen,” he said, “why shouldn’t we understand each other?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t we?” She had turned slightly toward him, and he could feel the + laughing mockery in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I rather think we do,” he answered, “only we—at least, you—won’t + admit it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Seriously, Zen, do you imagine I came over here to-day simply to make a + deal with your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Wasn’t that worth while?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it was. But it wasn’t the whole purpose—it wasn’t half + the purpose. I wanted to see Y.D., it is true, but more, very much more, I + wanted to see you.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, and he could only guess what was the trend of her + thoughts. After a silence he continued. + </p> + <p> + “You may think I am precipitate. You intimated as much to me once. I am. I + know of no reason why an honest man should go beating about the bush. When + I want something I want it, and I make a bee-line for it. If it is a + contract—if it is a business matter—I go right after it, with + all the energy that’s in me. When I’m looking for a contract I don’t start + by talking about the weather. Well—this is my first experience in + love, and perhaps my methods are all wrong, but it seems to me they should + apply. At any rate a girl of your intelligence will understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Applying your business principles,” she interrupted, “I suppose if you + wanted a wife and there was none in sight you would advertise for her?” + </p> + <p> + He defended his position. “I don’t see why not,” he declared. “I can’t + understand the general attitude of levity toward matrimonial + advertisements. Apparently they are too open and above-board. Matrimony + should not be committed in a round-about, indirect, hit-or-miss manner. A + young man sees a girl whom he thinks he would like to marry. Does he go to + her house and say, ‘Miss So-and-So, I think I would like to marry you. + Will you allow me to call on you so that we may get better acquainted, + with that object in view?’ He does not. Such honesty would be considered + almost brutal. He calls on her and pretends he would like to take her to + the theatre, if it is in town, or for a ride, if it is in the country. She + pretends she would like to go. Both of them know what the real purpose is, + and both of them pretend they don’t. They start the farce by pretending a + deceit which deceives nobody. They wait for nature to set up an attraction + which shall overrule their judgment, rather than act by judgment first and + leave it to nature to take care of herself. How much better it would be to + be perfectly frank—to boldly announce the purpose—to come as I + now come to you and say, ‘Zen, I want to marry you. My reason, my + judgment, tells me that you would be an ideal mate. I shall be proud of + you, and I will try to make you proud of me. I will gratify your desires + in every way that my means will permit. I pledge you my fidelity in return + for yours. I—I—’ Zen, will you say yes? Can you believe that + there is in my simple words more sincerity than there could be in any mad + ravings about love? You are young, Zen, younger than I, but you must have + observed some things. One of them is that marriage, founded on mutual + respect, which increases with the years, is a much safer and wiser + business than marriage founded on a passion which quickly burns itself out + and leaves the victims cold, unresponsive, with nothing in common. You may + not feel that you know me well enough for a decision. I will give you + every opportunity to know me better—I will do nothing to deceive you—I + will put on no veneer—I will let you know me as I really am. Will + you say yes?” + </p> + <p> + He had left his seat and approached her; he was leaning close over her + chair. While his words had suggested marriage on a purely intellectual + basis he did not hesitate to bring his physical presence into the scale. + He was accustomed to having his way—he had always had it—never + did he want it more than he did now.... And although he had made his plea + from the intellectual angle he was sure, he was very, very sure there was + more than that. This girl; whose very presence delighted him—intoxicated + him—would have made him mad— + </p> + <p> + “Will you say yes?” he repeated, and his hands found hers and drew her + with his great strength up from her chair. She did not resist, but when + she was on her feet she avoided his embrace. + </p> + <p> + “You must not hurry me,” she whispered. “I must have time to think. I did + not realize what you were saying until—” + </p> + <p> + “Say yes now,” he urged. Transley was a man very hard to resist. She felt + as though she were in the grip of a powerful machine; it was as though she + were being swept along by a stream against which her feeble strength was + as nothing. Zen was as nearly frightened as she had ever been in her + vigorous young life. And yet there was something delightful. It would have + been so easy to surrender—it was so hard to resist. + </p> + <p> + “Say yes now,” he repeated, drawing her close at last and breathing the + question into her ear. “You shall have time to think—you shall ask + your own heart, and if it does not confirm your words you will be released + from your promise.” + </p> + <p> + They heard the footsteps of her father approaching, and Transley waited no + longer for an answer. He turned her face to his; he pressed his lips + against hers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + Zen thought over the events of that evening until they became a blur in + her memory. Her principal recollection was that she had been quite swept + off her feet. Transley had interpreted her submission as assent, and she + had not corrected him in the vital moment when they stood before her + father that night in the deep shadow of the veranda. + </p> + <p> + “Y.D.,” Transley had said, “your consent and your blessing! Zen and I are + to be married as soon as she can be ready.” + </p> + <p> + That was the moment at which she should have spoken, but she did not. She, + who had prided herself that she would make a race of it—she, who had + always been able to slip out of a predicament in the nick of time—stood + mutely by and let Transley and her father interpret her silence as + consent. She was not sure that she was sorry; she was not sure but she + would have consented anyway; but Transley had taken the matter quite out + of her hands. And yet she could not bring herself to feel resentment + toward him; that was the strangest part of it. It seemed that she had come + under his domination; that she even had to think as he would have her + think. + </p> + <p> + In the darkness she could not see her father’s face, for which she was + sorry; and he could not see hers, for which she was glad. There was a long + moment of tense silence before she heard him say, + </p> + <p> + “Well, well! I had a hunch it might come to that, but I didn’t reckon you + youngsters would work so fast.” + </p> + <p> + “This was a stake worth working fast for,” Transley was saying, as he + shook Y.D.‘s hand. “I wouldn’t trade places with any man alive.” And Zen + was sure he meant exactly what he said. + </p> + <p> + “She’s a good girl, Transley,” her father commented; “a good girl, even if + a bit obstrep’rous at times. She’s got spirit, Transley, an’ you’ll have + to handle her with sense. She’s a—a thoroughbred!” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. had reached his arms toward his daughter, and at these words he + closed them about her. Zen had never known her father to be emotional; she + had known him to face matters of life and death without the quiver of an + eyelid, but as he held her there in his arms that night she felt his big + frame tremble. Suddenly she had a powerful desire to cry. She broke from + his embrace and ran upstairs to her room. + </p> + <p> + When she came down her father and mother and Transley were sitting about + the table in the living-room; the room hung with trophies of the chase and + of competition; the room which had been the nucleus of the Y.D. estate. + There was a colored cover on the table, and the shaded oil lamp in the + centre sent a comfortable glow of light downward and about. The mammoth + shadows of the three people fell on the log walls, darting silently from + position to position with their every movement. + </p> + <p> + Her mother arose as Zen entered the room and took her hands in a warm, + tender grip. + </p> + <p> + “You’re early leaving us,” she said. “I’m not saying I object. I think Mr. + Transley will make you a good husband. He is a man of energy, like your + father. He will do well. You will not know the hardships that we knew in + our early married life.” Their eyes met, and there was a moment’s pause. + </p> + <p> + “You will not understand for many years what this means to me, Zenith,” + her mother said, and turned quickly to her place at the table. + </p> + <p> + She could not remember what they had talked about after that. She had been + conscious of Transley’s eyes often on her, and of a certain spiritual + exaltation within her. She could not remember what she had said, but she + knew she had talked with unusual vivacity and charm. It was as though + certain storehouses of brilliance in her being, of which she had been + unaware, had been suddenly opened to her. It was as though she had been + intoxicated by a very subtle wine which did not deaden, but rather + quickened, all her faculties. + </p> + <p> + Afterwards, she had spent long hours among the foothills, thinking and + thinking. There were times when the flame of that strange exaltation + burned low indeed; times when it seemed almost to expire. There were + moments—hours—of misgivings. She could not understand the + strange docility which had come over her; the unprecedented willingness to + have her course shaped by another. That strange willingness came as near + to frightening Zen as anything had ever done. She felt that she was being + carried along in a stream; that she was making no resistance; that she had + no desire to resist. She had a strange fear that some day she would need + to resist; some day she would mightily need qualities of self-direction, + and those qualities would refuse to arise at her command. + </p> + <p> + She did not fear Transley. She believed in him. She believed in his + ability to grapple with anything that stood in his way; to thrust it + aside, and press on. She respected the judgment of her father and her + mother, and both of them believed in Transley. He would succeed; he would + seize the opportunities this young country afforded and rise to power and + influence upon them. He would be kind, he would be generous. He would make + her proud of him. What more could she want? + </p> + <p> + That was just it. There were dark moments when she felt that surely there + must be something more than all this. She did not know what it was—she + could not analyze her thoughts or give them definite form—but in + these dark moments she feared that she was being tricked, that the whole + thing was a sham which she would discover when it was too late. She did + not suspect her mother, or her father, or Transley, one or all, of being + parties to this trick; she believed that they did not know it existed. She + herself did not know it existed. But the fear was there. + </p> + <p> + After a week she admitted, much against her will, that possibly Dennison + Grant had something to do with it. She had not seen him since she had + pressed his fingers and he had ridden away through the smoke-haze of the + South Y.D. She had dutifully tried to force him from her mind. But he + would not stay out of it. It was about that fact that her misgivings + seemed most to centre. When she would be thinking of Transley, and + wondering about the future, suddenly she would discover that she was not + thinking of Transley, but of Dennison Grant. These discoveries shocked and + humiliated her. It was an impossible position. She would throw Grant + forcibly out of her mind and turn to Transley. And then, in an unguarded + moment, Transley would fade from her consciousness, and she would know + again that she was thinking of Grant. + </p> + <p> + At length she allowed herself the luxury of thinking frankly about + Dennison Grant. It WAS a luxury. It brought her a secret happiness which + she was wholly at a loss to understand, but which was very delightful, + nevertheless. She amused herself with comparing Grant with Transley. They + had two points in common: their physical perfection and their fearless, + self-confident manner. With these exceptions they seemed to be complete + contradictions. The ambitious Transley worshipped success; the + philosophical Grant despised it. That difference in attitude toward the + world and its affairs was a ridge which separated the whole current of + their lives. It even, in a way, shut one from the view of the other; at + least it shut Grant from the view of Transley. Transley would never + understand Grant, but Grant might, and probably did, understand Transley. + That was why Grant was the greater of the two.... + </p> + <p> + She reproached herself for such a thought; it was disloyal to admit that + this stranger on the Landson ranch was a greater man than her + husband-to-be. And yet honesty—or, perhaps, something deeper than + honesty—compelled her to make that admission.... She ran back over + the remembered incidents of the night they had spent together, marooned + like shipwrecked sailors on a rock in the foothills. His attentiveness, + his courtesy, his freedom from any conventional restraint, his manly + respect which was so much greater than conventional restraint—all + these came back to her with a poignant tenderness. She pictured Transley + in his place. Transley would probably have proposed even before he + bandaged her ankle. Grant had not said a word of love, or even of + affection. He had talked freely of himself—at her request—but + there had been nothing that might not have been said before the world. She + had been safe with Grant.... + </p> + <p> + After she had thought on this theme for a while Zen would acknowledge to + herself that the situation was absurd and impossible. Grant had given no + evidence of thinking more of her than of any other girl whom he might have + met. He had been chivalrous only. She had sat up with a start at the + thought that there might be another girl.... Or there might be no girl. + Grant was an unusual character.... + </p> + <p> + At any rate, the thing for her to do was to forget about him. She should + have no place in her mind for any man but Transley. It was true he had + stampeded her, but she had accepted the situation in which she found + herself. Transley was worthy of her—she had nothing to take back—she + would go through with it. + </p> + <p> + On the principle that the way to drive an unwelcome thought out of the + mind is to think vigorously about something else, Zen occupied herself + with plans and day-dreams centering about the new home that was to be + built in town. Neither her father nor Transley had as yet returned from + the trip on which they had gone with a view to forming a partnership, so + there had been no opportunity to discuss the plans for the future, but Zen + took it for granted that Transley would build in town. He was so + enthusiastic over the possibilities of that young and bustling centre of + population that there was no doubt he would want to throw in his lot with + it. This prospect was quite pleasing to the girl; it would leave her + within easy distance of her old home; it would introduce her to a type of + society with which she was well acquainted, and where she could do herself + justice, and it would not break up the associations of her young life. She + would still be able, now and again, to take long rides through the tawny + foothills; to mingle with her old friends; possibly to maintain a somewhat + sisterly acquaintance with Dennison Grant.... + </p> + <p> + After ten days Y.D. returned—alone. He had scarcely been able to + believe the developments which he had seen. It was as though the sleepy, + lazy cow-town had become electrified. Y.D. had looked on for three days, + wondering if he were not in some kind of a dream from which he would + awaken presently among his herds in the foothills. After three days he + bought a property. Before he left he sold it at a profit greater than the + earnings of his first five years on the ranch. It would be indeed a + stubborn confidence which could not be won by such an experience, and + before leaving for the ranch Y.D. had arranged for Transley practically an + open credit with his bankers, and had undertaken to send down all the + horses and equipment that could be spared. + </p> + <p> + Transley had planned to return to the foothills with Y.D., but at the last + moment business matters developed which required his attention. He placed + a tiny package in Y.D.‘s capacious palm. + </p> + <p> + “For the girl,” he said. “I should deliver it myself, but you’ll explain?” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. fumbled the tiny package into a vest pocket. “Sure, I’ll attend to + that,” he promised. “Wasn’t much of these fancy trimmin’s when I settled + into double harness, but lots of things has changed since then. You’ll be + out soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Just as soon as business will stand for it. Not a minute longer.” + </p> + <p> + On his return home Y.D., after maintaining an exasperating silence until + supper was finished, casually handed the package to his daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Some trinket Transley sent out,” he explained. “He’ll be here himself as + soon as business permits.” + </p> + <p> + She took the package with a glow of expectancy, started to open it, then + folded the paper again and ran up to her room. Here she tempted herself + for minutes before she would finally open it, whetting the appetite of + anticipation to the full.... The gem justified her little play. It was + magnificent; more beautiful and more expensive than anything her father + ever bought her. + </p> + <p> + She hesitated strangely about putting it on. To Zen it seemed that the + putting on of Transley’s ring would be a voluntary act symbolizing her + acceptance of him. If she had been carried off her feet—swept into + the position in which she found herself—that explanation would not + apply to the deliberate placing of his ring upon her finger. There would + be no excuse; she could never again plead that she had been the victim of + Transley’s precipitateness. This would be deliberate, and she must do it + herself. + </p> + <p> + She rather blamed Transley for not having left his old business and come + to perform this rite himself, as he should have done. What was one day of + business, more or less? Yet Zen gathered no hint from that incident that + always, with Transley, business would come first. It was symbolic—prophetic—but + she did not see the sign nor understand the prophecy. + </p> + <p> + She held the ring between her fingers; slipped it off and on her little + fingers; held it so the rays of the sun fell through the window upon it + and danced before her eyes in all their primal colors. + </p> + <p> + “I have to put this on,” she said, pursing her lips firmly, “and—and + forget about Dennison Grant!” + </p> + <p> + For a long time she thought of that and all it meant. Then she raised the + jewel to her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Help me—help me—” she murmured. With a quick little impetuous + motion she drew it on to the finger where it belonged. There she gazed + upon it for a moment, as though fascinated by it. Then she fell upon her + bed and lay motionless until long after the valley was wrapped in shadow. + </p> + <p> + The events of these days had almost driven from Zen’s mind the tragedy of + George Drazk. When she thought of it at all it presented such a grotesque + unreality—it was such an unreasonable thing—that it assumed + the vague qualities of a dream. It was something unreal and very much + better forgotten, and it was only by an unwilling effort at such times + that she could bring herself to know that it was not unreal. It was a + matter that concerned her tremendously. Sooner or later Drazk’s + disappearance must be noted,—perhaps his body would be found—and + while she had little fear that anyone would associate her with the tragedy + it was a most unpleasant thing to think about. Sometimes she wondered if + she should not tell her father or Transley just what had happened, but she + shrank from doing so as from the confession of a crime. Mostly she was + able to think of other matters. + </p> + <p> + Her father brought it up in a startling way at breakfast. Absolutely out + of a blue sky he said, “Did you know, Zen, that Drazk has disappeared? + Transley tells me you were int’rested a bit in him, or perhaps I should + say he was int’rested in you.” + </p> + <p> + Zen was so overcome by this startling change in the conversation that she + was unable to answer. The color went from her face and she leaned low over + her plate to conceal her agitation. + </p> + <p> + “Yep,” continued Y.D., with no more concern than if a steer had been lost + from the herd. “Transley said to tell you Drazk had disappeared an’ he + reckoned you wouldn’t be bothered any more with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Drazk was nothing to me,” she managed to say. “How can you think he was?” + </p> + <p> + “Now who said he was?” her father retorted. “For a young woman with the + price of a herd of steers on her third finger you’re sort o’ short this + mornin’. Now I’m jus’ wonderin’ how far you can see through a board fence, + Zen. Are you surprised that Drazk has disappeared?” + </p> + <p> + She was entirely at a loss to understand the drift of her father’s talk. + He could not connect her with Drazk’s disappearance, or he would not + approach the matter with such unconcern. That was unthinkable. Neither + could Transley, or he would not have sent so brutal a message. And yet it + was clear that they thought she should be interested. + </p> + <p> + Her father’s question demanded an answer. + </p> + <p> + “What should I care?” she ventured at length. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t ask you whether you cared. I asked you whether you was + surprised.” + </p> + <p> + “Drazk’s movements were—are nothing to me. I don’t know that I have + any occasion to be surprised about anything he may do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’m rather glad you’re not, because if you don’t jump to + conclusions, perhaps other people won’t. Not that it makes any partic’lar + diff’rence.” + </p> + <p> + “Dad,” she cried in desperation, “whatever do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It was all plain enough to me, an’ plain enough to Transley,” her father + continued with remarkable calmness. “We seen it right from the first.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re talking in riddles, Y.D.,” his wife remonstrated. “You’re getting + Zen all worked up.” + </p> + <p> + “Jewelry seems to be mighty upsettin’,” Y.D. commented. “There was nothin’ + like that in our engagement, eh, Jessie? Well, to come to the point. There + was a fire which burned up the valley of the South Y.D. Fires don’t start + themselves—usually. This one started among the Landson stacks, so it + was natural enough to suspec’ Y.D. or some of his sympathizers. Well it + wasn’t Y.D., an’ I reckon it wasn’t Zen, an’ it wasn’t Transley nor Linder + an’ every one of the gang’s accounted for excep’ Drazk. Drazk thought he + was doin’ a great piece of business when he fired the Landson hay, but + when the wind turned an’ burned up the whole valley Drazk sees where he + can’t play no hero part around here so he loses himself for good. I + gathered from Transley that Drazk had been botherin’ you a little, Zen, + which is why I told you.” + </p> + <p> + The girl’s heart was pounding violently at this explanation. It was + logical, and would be accepted readily by those who knew Drazk. She would + not trust herself in further conversation, so she slipped away as soon as + she could and spent the day riding down by the river. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon wore on, and as the day was warm she dismounted by a ford + and sat down upon a flat rock close to the water. The rock reminded her of + the one on which she and Grant had sat that night while the thin red lines + of fire played far up and down the valley. Her ankle was paining a little + so she removed her boot and stocking and soothed it in the cool water. + </p> + <p> + As she sat watching her reflection in the clear stream and toying with the + ripple about her foot a horseman rode quickly down through the cottonwoods + on the other side and plunged into the ford. It happened so quickly that + neither saw the other until he was well into the river. Although she had + had no dream of seeing him here, in some way she felt no surprise. Her + heart was behaving boisterously, but she sat outwardly demure, and when he + was close enough she sent a frank smile up to him. The look on his + sunburned face as he returned her greeting convinced her that the meeting, + on his part, was no less unexpected and welcome than it was to her. + </p> + <p> + When his horse was out of the water he dismounted and walked to her with + extended hand. + </p> + <p> + “This is an unexpected pleasure,” he said. “How is the ankle progressing?” + </p> + <p> + “Well enough,” she returned, “but it gets tired as the day wears on. I am + just resting a bit.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of somewhat embarrassed silence. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good-sized rock,” he suggested, at length. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, isn’t it? And here in the shade, at that.” + </p> + <p> + She did not invite him with words, but she gave her body a slight hitch, + as though to make room, although there was enough already. He sat down + without comment. + </p> + <p> + “Not unlike a rock I remember up in the foothills,” he remarked, after a + silence. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you remember that? It WAS like this, wasn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Same two people sitting on it.” + </p> + <p> + “.... Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Not like this, though.” + </p> + <p> + “No.... You’re mean. You know I didn’t intend to fall asleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not. Still....” + </p> + <p> + His voice lingered on it as though it were a delightful remembrance. + </p> + <p> + She found herself holding one of her hands in the other. She could feel + the pressure of Transley’s ring on her palm, and she held it tighter + still. + </p> + <p> + “Riding anywhere in particular?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “No. Just mooning.” She looked up at him again, this time at close + quarters. It was a quick, bright flash on his face—a moment only. + </p> + <p> + “Why mooning?” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. Looking down in the water he met her gaze there. + </p> + <p> + “You’re troubled!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! My—my ankle hurts a little.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at her sympathetically. “But not that much,” he said. + </p> + <p> + She gave a forced little laugh. “What a mind reader you are! Can you tell + my fortune?” + </p> + <p> + “I should have to read it in your hand.” + </p> + <p> + She would have extended her hand, but for Transley’s ring. + </p> + <p> + “No.... No. You’ll have to read it in—in the stars.” + </p> + <p> + “Then look at me.” She did so, innocently. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot read it there,” he said, after his long gaze had begun to whip + the color to her cheeks. “There is no answer.” + </p> + <p> + She turned again to the water, and after a long while she heard his voice, + very low and earnest. + </p> + <p> + “Zen, I could read a fortune for you, if you would not be offended. We are + only chance acquaintances—not very well acquainted, yet—” + </p> + <p> + She knew what he meant, but she pretended she did not. Even in that moment + something came to her of Transley’s speech about love being a game of + pretence. Very well, she would play the game—this once. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see how I could be offended at your reading my fortune,” she + murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Then this is the fortune I would read for you,” he said boldly. “I see a + young man, a rather foolish young man, perhaps, by ordinary standards, and + yet one who has found a great deal of happiness in his simple, + unconventional life. Until a short time ago he felt that life could give + him all the happiness that was worth having. He had health, strength, + hours of work and hours of pleasure, the fields, the hills, the mountains, + the sky—all God’s open places to live in and enjoy. He thought there + was nothing more. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then he found, all of a sudden, that there was something more—everything + more. He made that discovery on a calm autumn night, when fire had + blackened all the foothills and still ran in dancing red ribbons over + their distant crests. That night a great thing—two great things—came + into his life. First was something he gave. Not very much, indeed, but + typical of all it might be. It was service. And next was something he + received, something so wonderful he did not understand it then, and does + not understand it yet. It was trust. These were things he had been leaving + largely out of his life, and suddenly he discovered how empty it was. I + think there is one word for both these things, and, it may be, for even + more. You know?” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she said, and her voice was scarcely audible. + </p> + <p> + “But it is YOUR fortune I am to read,” he corrected himself. “It has been + your fortune to open that new world to me. That can never be undone—those + gates can never be closed—no matter where the paths may lead. Those + two paths go down to the future—as all paths must—even as this + road leads away through the valley to the sunset. Zen—if only, like + this road, they could run side by side to the sunset—Oh! Zen, if + they could?” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” she said, and as she raised her face he saw that her eyes were + wet. “I know—if only they could!” + </p> + <p> + There was a little sob in her voice, and in her beauty and distress she + was altogether irresistible. He reached out his arms and would have taken + her in them, but she thrust her hands in his and held herself back. She + turned the diamond deliberately to his eyes. She could feel his grip relax + and apparently grow suddenly cold. He stood speechless, like one dazed—benumbed. + </p> + <p> + “You see, I should not have let you talk—it is my fault,” she said, + speaking hurriedly. “I should not have let you talk. Please do not think I + am shallow; that I let you suffer to gratify my vanity.” Her eyes found + his again. “If I had not believed every word you said—if I had not + liked every word you said—if I had not—HOPED—every word + you said, I would not have listened.... But you see how it is.” + </p> + <p> + He was silent for so long that she thought he was not going to answer her + at all. When he spoke it was in a dry, parched voice. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I should not have presumed—” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know. If only—” + </p> + <p> + Then he looked straight at her and talked out. + </p> + <p> + “You liked me enough to let me speak as I did. I opened my heart to you. I + ask no such concession in return. I hope you will not think me + presumptuous, but I do not plead now for my happiness, but for yours. Is + this irrevocable? Are—you—sure?” + </p> + <p> + He said the last words so slowly and deliberately that she felt that each + of them was cutting the very rock from underneath her. She knew she was at + a junction point in her life, and her mind strove to quickly appraise the + situation. On one side was this man who had for her so strange and so + powerful an appeal. It was only by sheer force of will that she could hold + herself aloof from him. But he was a man who had broken with his family + and quarrelled with her father—a man whom her father would certainly + not for a moment consider as a son-in-law. He was a foreman; practically a + ranch hand. Neither Zen nor her father were snobs, and if Grant worked for + a living, so did Transley. That was not to be counted against him. The + point was, what kind of living did he earn? What Transley had to offer was + perhaps on a lower plane, but it was more substantial. It had been + approved by her father, and her mother, and herself. It wasn’t as though + one man were good and the other bad; it wasn’t as though one thing were + right and the other wrong. It would have been easy then.... + </p> + <p> + “I have promised,” she said at last. + </p> + <p> + She released her hands from his, and, sitting down, silently put on her + stocking and boot. She was aware that he was still standing near, as + though waiting to be formally dismissed. She walked by him to her horse + and put her foot in the stirrup. Then she looked at him and gave her hand + a little farewell wave. + </p> + <p> + Then a great pang, irresistible in its yearning, swept over her. She drew + her foot from the stirrup, and, rushing down, threw her arms about his + neck.... + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” she said. “I must go. We must both go and forget.” + </p> + <p> + And Dennison Grant continued his way down the valley while Zen rode back + to the Y.D., wondering if she could ever forget. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + Linder scratched his tousled brown hair reflectively as he gazed after the + retreating form of Transley. His hat was off, and the perspiration stood + on his sunburned face—a face which, in point of handsomeness, needed + make no apology to Transley. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by thunder!” said Linder; “by thunder, think of that!” + </p> + <p> + Linder stood for some time, thinking “of that” as deeply as his somewhat + disorganized mental state would permit. For Transley had announced, with + his usual directness, that he wanted so many men and teams for a house + excavation in the most exclusive part of the city. So far they had been + building in the cheaper districts a cheap type of house for those who, + having little capital, are the easier deprived of what they have. The + shift in operations caused Linder to lift his eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + Transley laughed boyishly and clapped a palm on his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I may as well make you wise, Linder,” he said. “We’re going to build a + house for Mr. and Mrs. Transley.” + </p> + <p> + “MISSUS?” Linder echoed, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the good word,” Transley confirmed. “Never expected it to happen + to me, but it did, all of a sudden. You want to look out; maybe it’s + catching.” + </p> + <p> + Transley was evidently in prime humor. Linder had, indeed, noted this good + humor for some time, but had attributed it to the very successful + operations in which his employer had been engaged. He pulled himself + together enough to offer a somewhat confused congratulation. + </p> + <p> + “And may I ask who is to be the fortunate young lady?” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “You may,” said Transley, “but if you could see the length of your nose it + wouldn’t be necessary. Linder, you’re the best foreman I ever had, just + because you don’t ever think of anything else. When you pass on there’ll + be no heaven for you unless they give you charge of a bunch of men and + teams where you can raise a sweat and make money for the boss. If you + weren’t like that you would have anticipated what I’ve told you—or + perhaps made a play for Zen yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Zen? You don’t mean Y.D.‘s daughter?” + </p> + <p> + “If I don’t mean Y.D.‘s daughter I don’t mean anybody, and you can take + that from me. You bet it’s Zen. Say, Linder, I didn’t think I could go + silly over a girl, but I’m plumb locoed. I bought the biggest old sparkler + in this town and sent it out with Y.D., if he didn’t lose it through the + lining of his vest—he handled it like it might have been a box of + pills—bad pills, Linder—and I’ve got an architect figuring how + much expense he can put on a house—he gets a commission on the cost, + you see—and one of these nights I’m going to buy you a dinner + that’ll keep you fed till Christmas. I never knew before that silliness + and happiness go together, but they do. I’m glad I’ve got a sober old + foreman—that’s all that keeps the business going.” + </p> + <p> + And after Transley had turned away Linder had scratched his head and said + “By thunder.... Linder, when you wake up you’ll be dead.... After her + practically saying ‘The water’s fine.’... Well, that’s why I’m a foreman, + and always will be.” + </p> + <p> + But after a little reflection Linder came to the conclusion that perhaps + it was all for the best. He could not have bought Y.D.‘s daughter a big + sparkler or have built her a fine home—because he was a foreman. It + was a round circle.... He threw himself into the building of Transley’s + house with as much fidelity as if it had been his own. He gave his + undivided attention to Transley’s interests, making dollars for him while + earning cents for himself. This attention was more needed than it ever had + been, as Transley found it necessary to make weekly trips to the ranch in + the foothills to consult with Y.D. upon business matters. + </p> + <p> + Zen found her interest in Transley growing as his attentions continued. He + spent money upon her lavishly, to the point at which she protested, for + although Y.D. was rated as a millionaire the family life was one of almost + stark simplicity. Transley assured her that he was making money faster + than he possibly could spend it, and even if not, money had no nobler + mission than to bring her happiness. He explained the blue-prints of the + house, and discussed with her details of the appointments. As the building + progressed he brought her weekly photographs of it. He urged her to set + the date about Christmas; during the winter contracting would be at a + standstill, so they would spend three months in California and return in + time for the spring business. + </p> + <p> + Day by day the girl turned the situation over in her mind. Her life had + been swept into strange and unexpected channels, and the experience + puzzled her. Since the episode with Drazk she had lost some of her native + recklessness; she was more disposed to weigh the result of her actions, + and she approached the future not without some misgivings. She assured + herself that she looked forward to her marriage with Transley with the + proper delight of a bride-to-be, and indeed it was a prospect that could + well be contemplated with pleasure.... Transley had won the complete + confidence of her father and when doubts assailed her Zen found in that + fact a very considerable comfort. Y.D. was a shrewd man; a man who seldom + guessed wrong. Zen did not admit that she was allowing her father to + choose a husband for her, but the fact that her father concurred in the + choice strengthened her in it. Transley had in him qualities which would + win not only wealth, but distinction, and she would share in the laurels. + She told herself that it was a delightful outlook; that she was a very + happy girl indeed—and wondered why she was not happier! + </p> + <p> + Particularly she laid it upon herself that she must now, finally, dismiss + Dennison Grant from her mind. It was absurd to suppose that she cared more + for Grant than she did for Transley. The two men were so different; it was + impossible to make comparisons. They occupied quite different spheres in + her regard. To be sure, Grant was a very likeable man, but he was not + eligible as a husband, and she could not marry two, in any case. Zen + entertained no girlish delusions about there being only one man in the + world. On the contrary, she was convinced that there were very many men in + the world, and, among the better types, there was, perhaps, not so much to + choose between them. Grant would undoubtedly be a good husband within his + means; so would Transley, and his means were greater. The blue-prints of + the new house in town had not been without their effect. It was a + different prospect from being a foreman’s wife on a ranch. Her father + would never hear of it.... + </p> + <p> + So she busied herself with preparations for the great event, and what + preparations they were! “Zen,” her father had said, “for once the lid is + off. Go the limit!” She took him at his word. There were many trips to + town, and activities about the old ranch buildings such as they had never + known since Jessie Wilson came to finish Y.D.‘s up-bringing, nor even + then. The good word spread throughout the foothill country and down over + the prairies, and many a lazy cloud of dust lay along the November + hillsides as the women folk of neighboring ranches came to pay their + respects and gratify their curiosity. Zen had treasures to show which sent + them home with new standards of extravagance. + </p> + <p> + Y.D. had not thought he could become so worked up over a simple matter + like a wedding. Time had dulled the edge of memory, but even after making + allowances he could not recall that his marriage to Jessie Wilson had been + such an event in his life as this. It did not at least reflect so much + glory upon him personally. He basked in the reflected glow of his + daughter’s beauty and popularity, as happily as the big cat lying on the + sunny side of the bunk-house. He found all sorts of excuses for invading + where his presence was little wanted while Zen’s finery was being + displayed for admiration. Y.D. always pretended that such invasions were + quite accidental, and affected a fine indifference to all this “women’s + fuss an’ feathers,” but his affectations deceived at least none of the + older visitors. + </p> + <p> + As the great day approached Y.D.‘s wife shot a bomb-shell at him. “What do + you propose to wear for Zen’s wedding?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with the suit I go to town in?” + </p> + <p> + “Y.D.,” said his wife, kindly, “there are certain little touches which you + overlook. Your town suit is all right for selling steers, although I won’t + say that it hasn’t outlived its prime even for that. To attend Zen’s + wedding it is—hardly the thing.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s been a good suit,” he protested. “It is—” + </p> + <p> + “It HAS. It is also a venerable suit. But really, Y.D., it will not do for + this occasion. You must get yourself a new suit, and a white shirt—” + </p> + <p> + “What do I want with a white shirt—” + </p> + <p> + “It has to be,” his wife insisted. “You’ll have to deck yourself out in a + new suit and a while shirt and collar.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. stamped around the room, and in a moment slipped out. “All fool + nonsense,” he confided to himself, on his way to the bunk-house. “It’s all + right for Zen to have good clothes—didn’t I tell her to go the + limit?—but as for me, ‘tain’t me that’s gettin’ married, is it? + Standin’ up before all them cow punchers in a white shirt!” The bitterness + of such disgrace cut the old rancher no less keenly than the physical + discomfort which he forecast for himself, yet he put his own desires + sufficiently to one side to buy a suit of clothes, and a white shirt and + collar, when he was next in town. + </p> + <p> + It must not be supposed that Y.D. admitted to the salesman that he + personally was descending to any such garb. + </p> + <p> + “A suit for a fellow about my size,” he explained. “He’s visitin’ out at + the ranch, an’ he hefts about the same as me. Put in one of them Hereford + shirts an’ a collar.” + </p> + <p> + Y.D. tucked the package surreptitiously in his room and awaited the day of + Zen’s marriage with mingled emotions. + </p> + <p> + Zen, yielding to Transley’s importunities, had at last said that it should + be Christmas Day. The wedding would be in the house, with the leading + ranchers and farmers of the district as invited guests, and the general + understanding was to be given out that the countryside as a whole would be + welcome. All could not be taken care of in the house, so Y.D. gave orders + that the hay was to be cleared out of one of the barns and the floor put + in shape for dancing. Open house would be held in the barn and in the + bunk-house, where substantial refreshments would be served to all and + sundry. + </p> + <p> + Christmas Day dawned with a seasonable nip to the air, but the sun rose + warm and bright. There was no snow, and by early afternoon clouds of dust + were rising on every trail leading to the Y.D. The old ranchers and their + wives drove in buckboards, and one or two in automobiles; the younger + generation, of both sexes, came on horseback, with many an exciting + impromptu race by the way. Y.D. received them all in the yard, commenting + on the horses and the weather, and how the steers were wintering, and + revealing, at the proper moments, the location of a well-filled stone jug. + The faithful Linder was on hand to assist in caring for the horses and + maintaining organization about the yard. The women were ushered into the + house, but the men sat about the bunk-house or leaned against the sunny + side of the barn, sharpening their wits in conversational sallies which + occasionally brought loud guffaws of merriment. + </p> + <p> + In the house every arrangement had been completed. Zen was to come down + the stairs leaning on her father’s arm, and the ceremony would take place + in the big central room, lavishly decorated with flowers which Transley + had sent from town in a heated automobile. After the ceremony the + principals and the older people would eat the wedding dinner in the house, + and all others would be served in the bunk-house. One of the downstairs + rooms was already filled with presents. + </p> + <p> + As the hour approached Zen found herself possessed of a calmness which she + deemed worthy of Y.D.‘s daughter. She had elected to be unattended as she + had no very special girl friend, and that seemed the simplest way out of + the problem of selecting someone for this honor. She was, however, amply + assisted with her dressing, and the color of her fine cheeks burned deeper + with the compliments to which she listened with modest appreciation. + </p> + <p> + At a quarter to the hour it was discovered that Y.D. had not yet dressed + for the occasion. He was, in fact, engaged with Landson in making a + tentative arrangement for the distribution of next year’s hay. Zen had + been so insistent upon an invitation being sent to Mr. and Mrs. Landson, + that Y.D., although fearing a snub for his pains, at last conceded the + point. He had done his neighbor rather less than justice, and now he and + Landson, with the assistance of the jug already referred to, were burying + the hatchet in a corner of the bunk-house. + </p> + <p> + “Dang this dressin’,” Y.D. remonstrated when a message demanding instant + action reached him. “Landson, hear me now! I wouldn’t take a million + dollars for that girl, y’ understand—and I wouldn’t trade a mangy + cayuse for another!” + </p> + <p> + So, grumbling, he found his way to his room and began a wrestle with his + “store” clothes. Before the fight was over he was being reminded through + the door that he wasn’t roping a steer, and everybody was waiting. At the + last moment he discovered that he had neglected to buy shoes. There was + nothing for it but his long ranch boots, so on they went. + </p> + <p> + He sought Zen in her room. “Will I do in this?” he asked, feeling very + sheepish. + </p> + <p> + Zen could have laughed, or she could have cried, but she did neither. She + sensed in some way the fact that to her father this experience was a + positive ordeal. So she just slipped her arm through his and whispered, + “Of course you’ll do, you silly old duffer,” and tripped down the stairs + by the side of his ponderous steps. + </p> + <p> + After the ceremony the elder people sat down to dinner in the house, and + the others in the bunk-house. Zen was radiant and calm; Transley handsome, + delighted, self-possessed. His good luck was the subject of many a + comment, both inside and out of the old house. He accepted it at its full + value, and yet as one who has a right to expect that luck will play him + some favors. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly there was a rush from outside, and Zen found herself being + carried bodily away. The young people had decided that the dancing could + wait no longer, so a half dozen hustlers had been deputed to kidnap the + bride and carry her to the barn, where the fiddles were already strumming. + Zen insisted that the first dance must belong to Transley, but after that + she danced with the young ranchers and cowboys with strict impartiality. + And even as she danced she found herself wondering if, among all this + representation of the countryside, that one upon whom her thoughts had + turned so much should be missing. She found herself watching the door. + Surely it would have been only a decent respect to her—surely he + might have helped to whirl her joyously away into the new life in which + the past had to be forgotten.... How much better that they should part + that way, than with the memories they had! + </p> + <p> + But Dennison Grant did not appear. Evidently he preferred to keep his + memories.... + </p> + <p> + When at last the night had worn thin and it was time for the bridal couple + to leave if they were to catch the morning train in town, and they had + ridden down the foothill trails to the thunder of many accompanying + hoof-beats, the old ranch became suddenly a place very quiet and still and + alone. Y.D. sat down in the corner of the big room by the fire, and saw + strange pictures in its dying embers. Zen.... Zen!... Transley was a good + fellow, but how much a man will take with scarce a thank-you!... Presently + Y.D. became aware of a hand resting upon his shoulder, and tingling from + its fingertips came something akin to the almost forgotten rapture of a + day long gone. He raised his great palm and took that slowly ageing hand, + once round and fresh like Zen’s, in his. Together they watched the fire + die out in the silence of their empty house.... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + Grant read the account of her wedding in the city papers a day or two + later. It was given the place of prominence among the Christmas Day + nuptials. He read it through twice and then tossed the paper to the end of + his little office. Grant was housed in a building by himself; a shack + twelve by sixteen feet, double boarded and tar-papered. A single square + window in the eastern wall commanded a view of the Landson corrals. On the + opposite side of the room was his bed; in the centre a huge wood-burning + stove; near the window stood a table littered with daily papers and + agricultural journals. The floor was of bare boards; a leather trunk, with + D. G. in aggressive letters, sat by the head of his bed, and in the corner + near the foot was a washstand with basin and pitcher of graniteware. In + another corner was a short shelf of well-selected books; clothing hung + from nails driven into the two-by-fours which formed the framework of the + little building; a rifle was suspended over the door, and lariat and + saddle hung from spikes in the wall. Grant sat in an arm chair by the + stove, where the bracket lamp on the wall could shed its yellow glare upon + his paper. + </p> + <p> + After throwing the sheet across the room he half turned in his chair, so + that the yellow light fell across his face. Fidget, the pup, always alert + for action, was on her feet in a moment, eager to lead the way to the door + and whatever adventure might lie outside. But Grant did not leave his + chair, and, finding all her tail-waving of no avail, she presently settled + down again by the stove, her chin on her outstretched paws, her drooping + eyes half closed, but a wakeful ear flopping occasionally forward and + back. Grant snuggled his foot against her friendly side and fell into + reverie.... + </p> + <p> + There was nothing else for it; he must absolutely dismiss Zen—Zen + Transley—from his mind. That was not only the course of honor; it + was the course of common sense. After all, he had not sought her for his + bride. He had not pressed his suit. He had given her to Transley. The + thought was rather a pleasant one. It implied some sort of voluntary + action upon Grant’s part. He had been magnanimous. Nevertheless, he was + cave man enough to know pangs of jealousy which his magnanimity could not + suppress. + </p> + <p> + “If things had been different,” he remarked to himself; “if I had been in + a position to offer her decent conditions, I would have followed up the + lead. And I would have won.” He turned the incident on the river bank over + in his mind, and a faint smile played along his lips. “I would have won. + But I couldn’t bring her here.... It’s the first time I ever felt that + money could really contribute to happiness. Well—I was happy before + I met her; I can be happy still. This little episode....” + </p> + <p> + He crossed the room and picked up the newspaper he had thrown away; he + crumpled it in his hand as he approached the stove. It said the bride was + beautiful—the happy couple—the groom, prosperous young + contractor—California—three months.... He turned to the table, + smoothed out the paper, and studied it again. Of course he had heard the + whole thing from the Landsons; they had done Y.D. and his daughter + justice. He clipped the article carefully from the sheet and folded it + away in a little book on the shelf. + </p> + <p> + Then he told himself that Zen had been swept from his mind; that if ever + they should meet—and he dallied a moment with that possibility—they + would shake hands and say some decent, insipid things and part as people + who had never met before. Only they would know.... + </p> + <p> + Grant occupied himself with the work of the ranch that winter, spring, and + summer. Occasional news of Mrs. Transley filtered through; she was too + prominent a character in that countryside to be lost track of in a season. + But anything which reached Grant came through accidental channels; he + sought no information of her, and turned a deaf ear, almost, to what he + heard. Then in the fall came an incident which immediately changed the + course of his career. + </p> + <p> + It came in the form of an important-looking letter with an eastern + postmark. It had been delivered with other mail at the house, and Landson + himself brought it down. Grant read it and at first stared at it somewhat + blankly, as one not taking in its full portent. + </p> + <p> + “Not bad news, I hope?” said his employer, cloaking his curiosity in + commiseration. + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” Grant admitted, and handed him the letter. Landson read: + </p> + <p> + “It is our duty to place before you information which must be of a very + distressing nature, and which at the same time will have the effect of + greatly increasing your responsibilities and opportunities. Unless you + have happened to see the brief despatches which have appeared in the Press + this letter will doubtless be the first intimation to you that your father + and younger brother Roy were the victims of a most regrettable accident + while motoring on a brief holiday in the South. The automobile in which + they were travelling was struck by a fast train, and both of them received + injuries from which they succumbed almost immediately. + </p> + <p> + “Your father, by his will, left all his property, aside from certain + behests to charity, to his son Roy, but Roy had no will, and as he was + unmarried, and as there are no other surviving members of the family + except yourself, the entire estate, less the behests already referred to, + descends to you. We have not yet attempted an appraisal, but you will know + that the amount is very considerable indeed. In recent years your father’s + business undertakings were remarkably successful, and we think we may + conservatively suggest that the amount of the estate will be very much + greater than even you may anticipate. + </p> + <p> + “The brokerage firm which your father founded is, temporarily, without a + head. You have had some experience in your father’s office, and as his + solicitors for many years, we take the liberty of suggesting that you + should immediately assume control of the business. A faithful staff are at + present continuing it to the best of their ability, but you will + understand that a permanent organization must be effected at as early a + date as may be possible. + </p> + <p> + “Inability to locate you until after somewhat exhaustive inquiries had + been made explains the failure to notify you by wire in time to permit of + your attending the funeral of your father and brother, which took place in + this city on the eighth instant, and was marked by many evidences of + respect. + </p> + <p> + “We beg to tender our very sincere sympathy, and to urge upon you that you + so arrange your affairs as to enable you to assume the responsibilities + which have, in a sense, been forced upon you, at a very early date. In the + meantime we assure you of our earnest attention to your interests. + </p> + <p> + “Yours sincerely, + </p> + <p> + “BARRETT, JONES, BARRETT, DEACON & BARRETT.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess it means you’ve struck oil, and I’ve lost a good foreman,” + said Landson, as he returned the letter. “I’m sorry about your loss, + Grant, and glad to hear of your good luck, if I may put it that way.” + </p> + <p> + “No particular good luck that I can see,” Grant protested. “I came west to + get away from all that bothering nuisance, and now I’ve got to go back and + take it all up again. I feel badly about Dad and the kid; they were + decent, only they didn’t understand me.... I suppose I didn’t understand + them, either. At any rate they didn’t wish this on me. They had quite + other plans.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you reckon she’s worth?” Landson asked, after waiting as long as + his patience would permit. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know. Possibly six or eight millions by this time.” + </p> + <p> + “Six or eight millions! Jehoshaphat! What will you do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “Look after it. Mr. Landson, you know that I have never worried about + money; if I had I wouldn’t be here. I figure that the more money a man has + the greater are his responsibilities and his troubles; worse than that, + his wealth excites the jealousy of the public and even the envy of his + friends. It builds a barrier around him, shutting out all those things + which are really most worth while. It makes him the legitimate prey of the + unprincipled. I know all these things, and it is because I know them that + I sought happiness out here on the ranges, where perhaps some people are + rich and some are poor, but they all think alike and live alike and are + part of one community and stand together in a pinch—and out here I + have found happiness. Now I’m going back to the other job. I don’t care + for the money, but any son-of-a-gun who takes it from me is a better man + than I am, and I’ll sit up nights at both ends of the day to beat him at + his own game. Now, just as soon as you can line up someone to take charge + I’ll have to beat it.” + </p> + <p> + The news of Grant’s fortune spread rapidly, and many were the + congratulations from his old cow puncher friends; congratulations, for the + most part, without a suggestion of envy in them. Grant put his affairs in + order as quickly as possible, and started for the East with a trunkful of + clothes. But even before he started one thought had risen up to haunt him. + He crushed it down, but it would insist. If only this had happened a year + ago.... + </p> + <p> + Dennison Grant’s mother had died in his infancy, and as soon as Roy was + old enough to go to boarding-school his father had given up housekeeping. + The club had been his home ever since. Grant reflected on this situation + with some satisfaction. He would at least be spared the unpleasantness of + discharging a houseful of servants and disposing of the family furniture. + As for the club—he had no notion for that. A couple of rooms in some + quiet apartment house, where he could cook a meal to his own liking as the + fancy took him; that was his picture of something as near domestic + happiness as was possible for a single man rather sadly out of his proper + environment. + </p> + <p> + Grant reached his old home city late at night, and after a quiet cigar and + a stroll through some of the half-forgotten streets he put up at one of + the best hotels. He was deferentially shown to a room about as large as + the whole Landson house; soft lights were burning under pink shades; his + feet fell noiselessly on the thick carpets. He placed a chair by a window, + where he could watch the myriad lights of the city, and tried to appraise + the new sphere in which he found himself. It would be a very different + game from riding the ranges or roping steers, but it would be a game, + nevertheless; a game in which he would have to stand on his own resources + even more than in those brave days in the foothills. He relished the + notion of the game even while he was indifferent to the prize. He had no + clear idea what he eventually should do with his wealth; that was + something to think about very carefully in the days and years to come. In + the meantime his job was to handle a big business in the way it should be + handled. He must first prove his ability to make money before he showed + the world how little he valued it. + </p> + <p> + He turned the water into his bath; there was a smell about the towels, the + linen, the soap, that was very grateful to his nostrils.... + </p> + <p> + In the morning he passed by the office of Grant & Son. He did not turn + in, but pursued his way to a door where a great brass plate announced the + law firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett. He smiled at + this elaboration of names; it represented three generations of the Barrett + family and two sons-in-law. Grant found himself speculating over a name + for the Landson ranch; it might have been Landson, Grant, Landson, Murphy, + Skinny & Pete.... + </p> + <p> + He entered and inquired for Mr. Barrett, senior. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. David Barrett, senior, sir; he’s out of the city, sir; he has not yet + come in from his summer home in the mountains.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the next Mr. Barrett?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. David Barrett, junior, sir; he also is out of the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any more Barretts?” + </p> + <p> + “There’s young Mr. Barrett, but he seldom comes down in the forenoon, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + Grant suppressed a grin. “The Barretts are a somewhat leisurely family, I + take it,” he remarked. + </p> + <p> + “They have been very successful,” said the clerk, with a touch of reserve. + </p> + <p> + “Apparently; but who does the work?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Jones is in his office. Would you care to send in your card?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I think I’ll just take it in.” He pressed through a counter-gate and + opened a door upon which was emblazoned the name of Mr. Jones. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jones proved to be a man with thin, iron-grey hair and a stubby, + pugnacious moustache. He sat at a desk at the end of a long, narrow room, + down both sides of which were rows of cases filled with impressive-looking + books. He did not raise his eyes when Grant entered, but continued poring + over a file of correspondence. + </p> + <p> + “What an existence!” Grant commented to himself. “And yet I suppose this + man thinks he’s alive.” + </p> + <p> + Grant remained standing for a moment, but as the lawyer showed no + disposition to divide his attention he presently advanced to the desk. Mr. + Jones looked up. + </p> + <p> + “You are Mr. Jones, I believe?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, but you have the better of me—” + </p> + <p> + “Only for the moment. You are a lawyer. You will take care of that. I + understand the firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett have + somewhat leisurely methods?” + </p> + <p> + “Is the firm on trial?” inquired Mr. Jones, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “In a sense, yes. I also understand that although all the Barretts, and + also Mr. Deacon, share in the name plate, Mr. Jones does the work?” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer laid down his papers. “Who the dickens are you, anyway, and + what do you want?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s better. With undivided attention we shall get there much quicker. + I have a certain amount of legal business which requires attention, and in + connection with which I am willing to pay what the service is worth. But + I’m not going to pay two generations of Barretts which are out of the + city, and a third which doesn’t come down in the forenoon. If I have to + buy name plates, I’ll buy name plates of my own, and that is what I’ve + decided to do. Do you mind saying how much this job here is worth?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do, sir. I don’t understand you at all—” + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll make myself understood. I am Dennison Grant. By force of + circumstances I find myself—” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer had risen from his chair. “Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I’m so glad—” + </p> + <p> + Grant ignored the outstretched hand. “I’m exactly the same man who came + into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to raise your + eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now offering courtesy; + it’s to my money.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure I beg your pardon. I didn’t know—” + </p> + <p> + “Then you will know in future. If you’ve got a hand on you, stick it out, + whether your visitor has any money or not.” + </p> + <p> + Grant was glaring at the lawyer across the desk, and the + pugnacious-looking moustache was beginning to bristle back. + </p> + <p> + “Did you come in here to read me a lecture, or to get legal advice?” the + lawyer returned with some spirit. + </p> + <p> + “I came in here on business. In the course of that business I find it + necessary to tell you where you get off at, and to ask you what you’re + going to do about it.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer came around from behind his desk. “And I’ll show you,” he said, + very curtly. “You’ve been drinking, or you’re out of your head. In either + case I’m going to put you out of this room until you are in a different + frame of mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Hop to it!” said Grant, bracing himself. Jones was an oldish man, and he + had no intention of hurting him. In a moment they clenched, and before + Grant could realize what was happening he was on his back. + </p> + <p> + He arose quickly, laughing, and sat down in a chair. “Mr. Jones, will you + sit down? I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + “If you will talk business. You were rude to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps. For my rudeness I apologize. But I was not untruthful. And I + wanted to find something out. I found it.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Whether you had any sand in you. You have, and considerable muscle, or + knack, as well. I’m not saying you could do it again—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what is this all about?” + </p> + <p> + “Simply this. If I am to manage the business of Grant & Son I shall + need legal advice of the highest order, and I want it from a man with red + blood in him—I should be afraid of any other advice. What is your + price? You understand, you leave this firm and think of nothing, + professionally, but what I pay you for.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jones had seated himself, and the pugnacious moustache was settling + back into a less hostile attitude. + </p> + <p> + “You are quite serious?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite. You see, I know nothing about business. It is true I spent some + time in my father’s office, but I never had much heart for it. I went west + to get away from it. Fate has forced it back upon my hands. Well—I’m + not a piker, and I mean to show Fate that I can handle the job. To do so I + must have the advice of a man who knows the game. I want a man who can + look over a bond issue, or whatever it is, and tell me at a glance whether + it’s spavined or wind-broken. I want a man who can sense out the legal + badger-holes, and who won’t let me gallop over a cutbank. I want a man who + has not only brains to back up his muscle, but who also has muscle to back + up his brains. To be quite frank, I didn’t think you were the man. I had + no doubt you had the legal ability, or you wouldn’t be guiding the affairs + of this five-cylinder firm, but I was afraid you didn’t have the fight in + you. I picked a quarrel with you to find out, and you showed me, for which + I am much obliged. By the way, how do you do it?” + </p> + <p> + Before answering Mr. Jones got up, walked around behind his desk, unlocked + a drawer and produced a box of cigars. + </p> + <p> + “That’s a mistake you Westerners make,” he remarked, when they had lighted + up. “You think the muscle is all out there, just as some Easterners will + admit that the brains are all down here. Both are wrong. Life at a desk + calls for an antidote, and two nights a week keep me in form. I wrestled a + bit when I was a boy, but I haven’t had a chance to try out my skill in a + long while. I rather welcomed the opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “I noticed that. Well—what’s she worth?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Jones ruminated. “I wouldn’t care to break with the firm,” he said at + length. “There are family ties as well as those of business. A year’s + leave of absence might be arranged. By that time you would be safe in your + saddle. By the way, do you propose to hire all your staff by the same + test?” + </p> + <p> + Grant smiled. “I don’t expect to hire any more staff. I presume there is + already a complete organization, doubtless making money for me at this + very moment. I will not interfere except when necessary, but I want a man + like you to tell me when it is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + Terms were agreed upon, and Mr. Jones asked only the remainder of the week + to clean up important matters on hand. Telegrams were despatched to Mr. + David Barrett, senior, and Mr. David Barrett, junior, and Jones in some + way managed to convey the delicate information to young Mr. Barrett that a + morning appearance on his part would henceforth be essential. Grant + decided to fill in the interval with a little fishing expedition. He was + determined that he would not so much as call at the office of Grant & + Son until Jones could accompany him. “A tenderfoot like me would stampede + that bunch in no time,” he warned himself. + </p> + <p> + When he finally did appear at the office he was received with a deference + amounting almost to obeisance. Murdoch, the chief clerk, and manager of + the business in all but title, who had known him in the old days when he + had been “Mr. Denny,” bore him into the private office which had for so + many years been the sacred recess of the senior Grant. Only big men or + trusted employees were in the habit of passing those silent green doors. + </p> + <p> + “Well Murdy, old boy, how goes it?” Grant had said when they met, taking + his hand in a husky grip. + </p> + <p> + “Not so bad, sir; not so bad, considering the shock of the accident, sir. + And we are all so glad to see you—we who knew you before, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Murdy,” said Grant. “What’s the idea of all the sirs?” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said the somewhat abashed official, “you know you are now the head + of the firm, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Quite so. Because a chauffeur neglected to look over his shoulder I am + converted from a cow puncher to a sir. Well, go easy on it. If a man has + native dignity in him he doesn’t need it piled on from outside.” + </p> + <p> + “Very true, sir. I hope you will be comfortable here. Some memorable + matters have been transacted within these walls, sir. Let me take your hat + and cane.” + </p> + <p> + “Cane? What cane?” + </p> + <p> + “Your stick, sir; didn’t you have a stick?” + </p> + <p> + “What for? Have you rattlers here? Oh, I see—more dignity. No, I + don’t carry a stick. Perhaps when I’m old—” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll have to try and accommodate yourself to our manners,” said Jones, + when Murdoch had left the room. “They may seem unnecessary, or even + absurd, but they are sanctioned by custom, and, you know, civilization is + built on custom. The poet speaks of a freedom which ‘slowly broadens down + from precedent to precedent.’ Precedent is custom. Never defy custom, or + you will find her your master. Humor her, and she will be your slave. Now + I think I shall leave, while you try and tune yourself to the atmosphere + of these surroundings. I need hardly warn you that the furniture is—quite + valuable.” + </p> + <p> + Grant saw him out with a friendly grip on his arm. “You will need another + course of wrestling lessons presently,” he warned him. + </p> + <p> + So this was the room which had been the inner shrine of the firm of Grant + & Son. The quarters were new since he had left the East; the + furnishings revealed that large simplicity which is elegance and wealth. A + painting of the elder Grant hung from the wall; Dennison stood before it, + looking into the sad, capable, grey eyes. What had life brought to his + father that was worth the price those eyes reflected? Dennison found his + own eyes moistening with memories now strangely poignant.... + </p> + <p> + “Environment,” the young man murmured, as he turned from the portrait, + “environment, master of everything! And yet—” + </p> + <p> + A photograph of Roy stood on the mantelpiece, and beside it, in a little + silver frame, was one of his mother.... Grant pulled himself together and + fell to an examination of the papers in his father’s desk. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + Grant’s first concern was to get a grasp of the business affairs which had + so unexpectedly come under his direction. To accomplish this he continued + the practice of the Landson ranch; he was up every morning at five, and + had done a day’s work before the members of his staff began to assemble. + For advice he turned to Jones and Murdoch, and the management of routine + affairs he left entirely in the hands of the latter. He had soon convinced + himself that the camaraderie of the ranch would not work in a staff of + this kind, so while he was formulating plans of his own he left the + administration to Murdoch. He found this absence of companionship the most + unpleasant feature of his position; it seemed that his wealth had elevated + him out of the human family. He wavered between amusement and annoyance + over the deference that was paid him. Some of the staff were openly + terrified at his approach. + </p> + <p> + Not so Miss Bruce. Miss Bruce had tapped on the door and entered with the + words, “I was your father’s stenographer. He left practically all his + personal correspondence to me. I worked at this desk in the corner, and + had a private office through the door there into which I slipped when my + absence was preferred.” + </p> + <p> + She had crossed the room, and, instead of standing respectfully before + Grant’s desk, had come around the end of it. Grant looked up with some + surprise, and noted that her features were not without commending + qualities. The mouth, a little large, perhaps— + </p> + <p> + “How do you think you’re going to like your job?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Grant swung around quickly in his chair. No one in the staff had spoken to + him like that; Murdoch himself would not have dared address him in so + familiar a manner. He decided to take a firm position. + </p> + <p> + “Were you in the habit of speaking to my father like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Your father was a man well on in years, Mr. Grant. Every man according to + his age.” + </p> + <p> + “I am the head of the firm.” + </p> + <p> + “That is so,” she assented. “But if it were not for me and the others on + your pay roll there would be no firm to require a head, and you’d be out + of a job. You see, we are quite as essential to you as you are to us.” + </p> + <p> + Grant looked at her keenly. Whatever her words, he had to admit that her + tone was not impertinent. She had a manner of stating a fact, rather than + engaging in an argument. There was nothing hostile about her. She had + voiced these sentiments in as matter-of-fact a way as if she were saying, + “It’s raining out; you had better take your umbrella.” + </p> + <p> + “You appear to be a very advanced young woman,” he remarked. “I am a + little surprised—I had hardly thought my father would select young + women of your type as his confidential secretaries.” + </p> + <p> + “Private stenographer,” she corrected. “A little extra side on a title is + neither here nor there. Well, I will admit that I rather took your + father’s breath at times; he discharged me so often it became a habit, but + we grew to have a sort of tacit understanding that that was just his way + of blowing off steam. You see, I did his work, and I did it right. I never + lost my head when he got into a temper; I could always read my notes even + after he had spent most of the day in death grips with some business + rival. You see, I wasn’t afraid of him, not the least bit. And I’m not + afraid of you.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe you are,” Grant admitted. “You are a remarkable woman. I + think we shall get along all right if you are able to distinguish between + independence and bravado.” He turned to his desk, then suddenly looked up + again. He was homesick for someone he could talk to frankly. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t mind telling you,” he said abruptly, “that the deference which is + being showered upon me around this institution gives me a good deal of a + pain. I’ve been accustomed to working with men on the same level. They + took their orders from me, and they carried them out, but the older hands + called me by my first name, and any of them swore back when he thought he + had occasion. I can’t fit in to this ‘Yes sir,’ ‘No sir,’ ‘Very good, + sir,’ way of doing business. It doesn’t ring true.” + </p> + <p> + “I know what you mean,” she said. “There’s too much servility in it. And + yet one may pay these courtesies and not be servile. I always ‘sir’d’ your + father, and he knew I did it because I wanted to, not because I had to. + And I shall do the same with you once we understand each other. The + position I want to make clear is this: I don’t admit that because I work + for you I belong to a lower order of the human family than you do, and I + don’t admit that, aside from the giving of faithful service, I am under + any obligation to you. I give you my labor, worth so much; you pay me; + we’re square. If we can accept that as an understanding I’m ready to begin + work now; if not, I’m going out to look for another job.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we can accept that as a working basis,” he agreed. + </p> + <p> + She produced notebook and pencil. “Very well, SIR. Do you wish to + dictate?” + </p> + <p> + The selection of a place to call home was a matter demanding Grant’s early + attention. He discussed it with Mr. Jones. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you will take memberships in some of the better clubs,” the + lawyer had suggested. “It’s the best home life there is. That is why it is + not to be recommended to married men; it has a tendency to break up the + domestic circle.” + </p> + <p> + “But it will cost more than I can afford.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense! You could buy out one of their clubs, holus-bolus, if you + wanted to.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t quite get me,” said Grant. “If I used the money which was left + by my father, or the income from the business, no doubt I could do as you + say. But I feel that that money isn’t really mine. You see, I never earned + it, and I don’t see how a person can, morally, spend money that he did not + earn.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there are a great many immoral people in the world,” the lawyer + observed, dryly. + </p> + <p> + “I am disposed to agree with you,” said Grant, somewhat pointedly. “But I + don’t intend that they shall set my standards.” + </p> + <p> + “You have your salary. That comes under the head of earnings, if you are + finnicky about the profits. What do you propose to pay yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been thinking about that. On the ranch I got a hundred dollars a + month, and board.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, your father got twenty thousand a year, and Roy half that, and if + they wanted more they charged it up as expenses.” + </p> + <p> + “Considering the cost of board here, I think I would be justified in + taking two hundred dollars a month,” Grant continued. + </p> + <p> + Jones got up and took the young man by the shoulders. “Look here, Grant, + you’re not taking yourself seriously. I don’t want to assail your pet + theories—you’ll grow out of them in time—but you hired me to + give you advice, and right here I advise you not to make a fool of + yourself. You are now in a big position; you’re a big man, and you’ve got + to live in a big way. If for nothing else than to hold the confidence of + the public you must do it. Do you think they’re going to intrust their + investments to a firm headed by a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man?” + </p> + <p> + “But I AM a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man. In fact, I’m not sure I’m + worth quite that much. I’ve got no more muscle, and no more sense, and + very little more experience than I had a month ago, when in the open + market my services commanded a hundred and board.” + </p> + <p> + “When a man is big enough—or his job is big enough—” Jones + argued, “he arises above the ordinary law of supply and demand. In fact, + in a sense, he controls supply and demand. He puts himself in the job and + dictates the salary. You have a perfect right to pay yourself what other + men in similar positions are getting. Besides, as I said, you’ll have to + do so for the credit of the firm. Do you call a doctor who lives in a + tumble-down tenement? You do not. You call one from a fine home; you + select him for his appearance of prosperity, regardless of the fact that + he may have mortgaged his future to create that appearance, and of the + further fact that he will charge you a fee calculated to help pay off the + mortgage. When you want a lawyer, do you seek some garret practitioner? + You do not. You go to a big building, with a big name plate”—the + pugnacious moustache gave hint of a smile gathering beneath—“and you + pay a big price for a man with an office full of imposing-looking books, + not a tenth part of which he has ever read, or intends ever to read. I + admit there’s a good deal of bunco in the game, but if you sit in you’ve + got to play it that way, or the dear public will throw you into the + discard. Many a man who votes himself a salary in five figures—or + gets a friendly board of directors to do it for him—if thrown + unfriended between the millstones of supply and demand probably couldn’t + qualify for your modest hundred dollars a month and board. But he has + risen into a different world; instead of being dictated to, he dictates. + That is your position, Grant. Look at it sensibly.” + </p> + <p> + “Nevertheless, I shall get along on two hundred a month. If I find it + necessary in order to protect the interests of the business to take a + membership in an expensive club, or commit any other extravagance, I shall + do so, and charge it up as a business expense. Besides, I think I can be + happier that way.” + </p> + <p> + “And in the meantime your business is piling up profits. What are you + going to do with them? Give them away?” + </p> + <p> + “No. That, too, is immoral—whether it be a quarter to a beggar or a + library to a city. It feeds the desire to get money without earning it, + which is the most immoral of all our desires. I have not yet decided what + I shall do with it. I have hired an expert, in you, to show me how to make + money. I shall probably find it necessary to hire another to show me how + to dispose of it. But not a dollar will be given away.” + </p> + <p> + “And so you would let the beggar starve? That’s a new kind of altruism.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I would correct the conditions that made him a beggar. That’s the + only kind of altruism that will make him something better than a beggar.” + </p> + <p> + “Some people would beg in any case, Grant. They are incapable of anything + better.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they are defectives, and should be cared for by the State.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the State may practise charity—” + </p> + <p> + “It is not charity; it is the discharge of an obligation. A father may + support his children, but he must not let anyone else do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I give up,” said Jones. “You’re beyond me.” + </p> + <p> + Grant laughed and extended a cigar box. “Don’t hesitate,” he said, “this + doesn’t come out of the two hundred. This is entertainment expense. And + you must come and see me when I get settled.” + </p> + <p> + “When you get settled—yes. You won’t be settled until you’re + married, and you might as well do some thinking about that. A man in your + position gets a pretty good range of choice; you’d be surprised if you + knew the wire-pulling I have already encountered; ambitious old dames + fishing for introductions for their daughters. You may be an expert with + rope or branding-iron, but you’re outclassed in this matrimonial game, and + some one of them will land you one of these times before you know it. You + should be very proud,” and Mr. Jones struck something of an attitude. “The + youth and beauty of the city are raving about you.” + </p> + <p> + “About my money,” Grant retorted. “If my father had had time to change his + will they would every one of them have passed me by with their noses in + the air. As for marrying—that’s all off.” + </p> + <p> + The lawyer was about to aim a humorous sally, but something in Grant’s + appearance closed his lips. “Very well, I’ll come and see you if you say + when,” he agreed. + </p> + <p> + Grant found what he wanted in a little apartment house on a side street, + overlooking the lake. Here was a place where the vision could leap out + without being beaten back by barricades of stone and brick. He rested his + eyes on the distance, and assured the inveigling landlady that the rooms + would do, and he would arrange for decorating at his own expense. There + was a living-room, about the size of his shack on the Landson ranch; a + bathroom, and a kitchenette, and the rent was twenty-two dollars a month. + A decorator was called in to repaper the bathroom and kitchenette, but for + the living-room Grant engaged a carpenter. He ordered that the inside of + the room should be boarded up with rough boards, with exposed scantlings + on the walls and ceiling. No doubt the tradesman thought his patron mad, + or nearly so, but his business was to obey orders, and when the job was + completed it presented a very passable duplicate of Grant’s old quarters + on the ranch. He had spared the fireplace, as a concession to comfort. + When he had gotten his personal effects out of storage, when he had hung + rifle, saddle and lariat from spikes in the wall; had built a little + book-shelf and set his old favorites upon it; had installed his bed and + the trunk with the big D. G.; sitting in his arm chair before the fire, + with Fidget’s nose snuggled companionably against his foot, he would not + have traded his quarters for the finest suite in the most expensive club + in the city. Here was something at least akin to home. + </p> + <p> + As he was arranging the books on his shelf the clipping with the account + of Zen’s wedding fell to the floor. He sat down in his chair and read it + slowly through. Later he went out for a walk. + </p> + <p> + It was in his long walks that Grant found the only real comfort of his new + life. To be sure, it was not like roaming the foothills; there was not the + soft breath of the Chinook, nor the deep silence of the mighty valleys. + But there was movement and freedom and a chance to think. The city offered + artificial attractions in which the foothills had not competed; + faultlessly kept parks and lawns; splashes of perfume and color; spraying + fountains and vagrant strains of music. He reflected that some merciful + principle of compensation has made no place quite perfect and no place + entirely undesirable. He remembered also the toll of his life in the + saddle; the physical hardship, the strain of long hours and broken + weather. And here, too, in a different way, he was in the saddle, and he + did not know which strain was the greater. He was beginning to have a + higher regard for the men in the saddle of business. The world saw only + their success, or, it may be, their pretence of success. But there was a + different story from all that, which each one of them could have told for + himself. + </p> + <p> + On this evening when his mind had been suddenly turned into old channels + by the finding of the newspaper clipping dealing with the wedding of + Y.D.‘s daughter, Grant walked far into the outskirts of the city, paying + little attention to his course. It was late October; the leaves lay thick + on the sidewalks and through the parks; there was in all the air that + strange, sad, sweet dreariness of the dying summer.... Grant had tried + heroically to keep his thoughts away from Transley’s wife. The past had + come back on him, had rather engulfed him, in that little newspaper + clipping. He let himself wonder where she was, and whether nearly a year + of married life had shown her the folly of her decision. He took it for + granted that her decision had been folly, and he arrived at that position + without any reflection upon Transley. Only—Zen had been in love with + him, with him, Dennison Grant! Sooner or later she must discover the + tragedy of that fact, and yet he told himself he was big enough to hope + she might never discover it. It would be best that she should forget him, + as he had—almost—forgotten her. There was no doubt that would + be best. And yet there was a delightful sadness in thinking of her still, + and hoping that some day—He was never able to complete the thought. + </p> + <p> + He had been walking down a street of modest homes; the bare trees groped + into a sky clear and blue with the first chill presage of winter. A quick + step fell unheeded by his side; the girl passed, hesitated, then turned + and spoke. + </p> + <p> + “You are preoccupied, Mr. Grant.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Miss Bruce, I beg your pardon. I am glad to see you.” Even at that + moment he had been thinking of Zen, and perhaps he put more cordiality + into his words than he intended. But he had grown to have considerable + regard, on her own account, for this unusual girl who was not afraid of + him. He had found that she was what he called “a good head.” She could + take a detached view; she was absolutely fair; she was not easily + flustered. + </p> + <p> + Her step had fallen into swing with his. + </p> + <p> + “You do not often visit our part of the city,” she essayed. + </p> + <p> + “You live here?” + </p> + <p> + “Near by. Will you come and see?” + </p> + <p> + He turned with her at a corner, and they went up a narrow street lying + deep in dead leaves. Friendly domestic glimpses could be caught through + unblinded windows. + </p> + <p> + “This is our home,” she said, stopping before a little gate. Grant’s eye + followed the pathway to a cottage set back among the trees. “I live here + with my sister and brother and mother. Father is dead,” she went on + hurriedly, as though wishing to place before him a quick digest of the + family affairs, “and we keep up the home by living on with mother as + boarders; that is, Grace and I do. Hubert is still in high school. Won’t + you come in?” + </p> + <p> + He followed her up the path and into a little hall, lighted only by chance + rays falling through a half-opened door. She did not switch on the + current, and Grant was aware of a comfortable sense of her nearness, quite + distinct from any office experience, as she took his hat. In the + living-room her mother received him with visible surprise. She was not + old, but widowhood and the cares of a young family had whitened her hair + before its time. + </p> + <p> + “We are glad to see you, Mr. Grant,” she said. “It is an unexpected + pleasure. Big business men do not often—” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Grant is different,” her daughter interrupted, lightly. “I found him + wandering the streets and I just—retrieved him.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I AM different,” he admitted, as his eye took in the + surroundings, which he appraised quickly as modest comfort, attained + through many little economies and makeshifts. “You are very happy here,” + he went on, frankly. “Much more so, I should say, than in many of the more + pretentious homes. I have always contended that, beyond the margin + necessary for decent living, the possession of money is a burden and a + handicap, and I see no reason to change my opinion.” + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis is a great help to me—and Grace,” the mother observed. “I + hope she is a good girl in the office.” + </p> + <p> + Grant was hurrying an assent but the girl interrupted, perhaps wishing to + relieve him of the necessity of an answer. + </p> + <p> + “‘Decent living’ is a very elastic term,” she remarked. “There are so many + standards. Some women think they must have maids and social status—whatever + that is—and so on. It can’t be done on mother’s income.” + </p> + <p> + “That quality is not confined to women,” Grant said. “I know I am regarded + as something of a freak because I prefer to live simply. They can’t + understand my preference for a plain room to read and sleep in, for quiet + walks by myself when I might be buzzing around in big motor cars or + revelling with a bunch at the club. I suppose it’s a puzzle to them.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Bruce had seated herself near him. “They are beginning to offer + explanations,” she said. “I hear them—such things always filter + down. They say you are mean and niggardly—that you’re afraid to + spend a dollar. The fact that you have raised the wages of your staff + doesn’t seem to answer them; they rather hold that against you, because it + has a tendency to make them do the same. Other office staffs are going to + their heads and saying, ‘Grant is paying his help so much.’ That doesn’t + popularize you. To be a good fellow you should hold your staff down to the + lowest wages at which you can get service, and the money you save in this + way should be spent with gusto and abandon at expensive hotels and other + places designed to keep rich people from getting too rich.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you are satirizing them a little, but there is a good deal in + what you say. They think I’m mean because they don’t understand me, and + they can’t understand my point of view. I believe that money was created + as a medium for the exchange of value. I think they will all agree with me + there. If that is so, then I have no right to money unless I have given + value for it, and that is where they part company with me; but surely we + can’t accept the one fact without the other.” + </p> + <p> + Grant found himself thumbing his pockets. “You may smoke, if you have + tobacco,” said Mrs. Bruce. “My husband smoked, and although I did not + approve of it then, I think I must have grown to like it.” + </p> + <p> + He lighted a cigarette, and continued. “Not all the moral law was given on + Mount Sinai. It seems to me that the supernaturalism which has been + introduced into the story of the Ten Commandments is most unfortunate. It + seems to remove them out of the field of natural law, whereas they are, + really, natural law itself. No social state can exist where they are + habitually ignored. But of course these natural laws existed long before + Moses. He did not make the law; he discovered it, just as Newton + discovered the law of gravitation. Well—there must be many other + natural laws, still undiscovered, or at least unaccepted. The thing is to + discover them, to obey them, and, eventually, to compel others to obey + them. I am no Moses, but I think I have the germ of the law which would + cure our economic ills—that no person should be allowed to receive + value without earning it. Because I believed in that I gave up a fortune + and went to work as a laborer on a ranch, but Fate has forced wealth upon + me, doubtless in order that I may prove out my own theories. Well, that is + what I am doing.” + </p> + <p> + “It shouldn’t be hard to get rid of money if you don’t want it,” Mrs. + Bruce ventured. + </p> + <p> + “But it is. It is the hardest kind of thing. You see, I am limited by my + principles. I believe it is morally wrong to receive money without earning + it; consequently I cannot give it away, as by doing so I would place the + recipient in that position. I believe it is morally wrong to spend on + myself money which I have not earned; consequently I can spend only what I + conceive to be a reasonable return for my services. Meanwhile, my wealth + keeps rolling up.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a knotty problem,” said Phyllis. “I think there is only one + solution.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is?—” + </p> + <p> + “Marry a woman who is a good spender.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Grace and Hubert came in from the picture-show together, + and the conversation turned to lighter topics. Mrs. Bruce insisted on + serving tea and cake, and when Grant found that he must go Phyllis + accompanied him to the gate. + </p> + <p> + “This all seems so funny,” she was saying. “You are a very remarkable + man.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I once passed a similar opinion about you.” + </p> + <p> + She extended her hand, and he held it for a moment. “I have not changed my + first opinion,” he said, as he released her fingers and turned quickly + down the pavement. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + Grant’s first visit to the home of his private stenographer was not his + last, and the news leaked out, as it is sure to do in such cases. The + social set confessed to being on the point of being shocked. Two schools + of criticism developed over the five o’clock tea tables; one held that + Grant was a gay dog who would settle down and marry in his class when he + had had his fling, and the other that Phyllis Bruce was an artful hussy + who was quite ready to sell herself for the Grant millions. And there were + so many eligible young women on the market, although none of them were + described as artful hussies! + </p> + <p> + Grant’s behavior, however, placed him under no cloud in so far as social + opportunities were concerned; on the contrary, he found himself being + showered with invitations, most of which he managed to decline on the + grounds of pressure of business. When such an excuse would have been too + transparent he accepted and made the best of it, and he found no lack of + encouragement in the one or two incipient amorous flurries which resulted. + From such positions he always succeeded in extricating himself, with a + quiet smile at the vagaries of life. He had to admit that some of the + young women whom he had met had charms of more than passing moment; he + might easily enough find himself chasing the rainbow.... + </p> + <p> + Mrs. LeCord carried the warfare into his own office. The late Mr. LeCord + had left her to face the world with a comfortable fortune and three + daughters, of whom the youngest was now married and the oldest was a + forlorn hope. To place the second was now her purpose, and the best + bargain on the market was young Grant. Caroline, she was sure, would make + a very acceptable wife, and the young lady herself confessed a belief that + she could love even a bold Westerner whose bank balance was expressed in + seven figures. + </p> + <p> + The fact that Grant avoided social functions only added zest to the + determination with which Mrs. LeCord carried the war into his own office. + She chose to consult him for advice on financial matters and she came + accompanied by Caroline, a young woman rather prepossessing in her own + right. The two were readily admitted into Grant’s private office, where + they had opportunity not only to meet the young man in person, but to + satisfy their curiosity concerning the Bruce girl. + </p> + <p> + “I am Mrs. LeCord, Mr. Grant,” the lady introduced herself. “This is my + daughter Caroline. We wish to consult you on certain financial matters, + privately, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + Grant received them cordially. “I shall be glad to advise you, if I can,” + he said. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. LeCord cast a significant glance at Phyllis Bruce. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Bruce is my private stenographer. You may speak with perfect + freedom.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. LeCord took up her subject after a moment’s silence. “Mr. LeCord left + me not entirely unprovided for,” she explained. “Almost a million dollars + in bonds and real estate made a comfortable protection for me and my three + daughters against the buffetings of a world which, as you may have found, + Mr. Grant, is not over-considerate.” + </p> + <p> + “The buffetings of the world are an excellent training for the world’s + affairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so, maybe so,” his visitor conceded. “However, there are other + trainings—trainings of finer quality, Mr. Grant—than those + which have to do with subsistence. I have been able to give my daughters + the best education that money could command, and, if I do say it, I permit + myself some gratification over the result. Gretta is comfortably and + happily married,—a young man of some distinction in the financial + world—a Mr. Powers, Mr. Newton Powers—you may happen to know + him; Madge, I think, is always going to be her mother’s girl; Caroline is + still heart-free, although one can never tell—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother!” the girl protested, blushing daintily. + </p> + <p> + “I said you could never tell, Mr. Grant,—while handsome young men + like yourself are at large.” Mrs. LeCord laughed heartily, as much as to + say that her remark must be regarded only as a little pleasantry. “But you + will think I am a gossipy old body,” she continued briskly. “I really came + to discuss certain financial matters. Since Mr. LeCord’s death I have + taken charge of all the family business affairs with, if I may confess it, + some success. We have lived, and my girls have been educated, and our + little reserve against a rainy day has been almost doubled, in addition to + giving Gretta a hundred thousand in her own right on the occasion of her + marriage. Caroline is to have the same, and when I am done with it there + will be a third of the estate for each. In the meantime I am directing my + investments as wisely as I can. I want my daughters to be provided for, + quite apart from any income marriage may bring them. I should be greatly + humiliated to think that any daughter of mine would be dependent upon her + husband for support. On the contrary, I mean that they shall bring to + their husbands a sum which will be an appreciable contribution toward the + family fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “If I can help you in any way in your financial matters—” Grant + suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, we must get back to that. How I wander! I’m afraid, Mr. Grant, I + must be growing old.” + </p> + <p> + Grant protested gallantly against such conclusion, and Mrs. LeCord, after + asking his opinion on certain issues shortly to be floated, arose to + leave. + </p> + <p> + “You must find life in this city somewhat lonely, Mr. Grant,” she murmured + as she drew on her gloves. “If ever you find a longing for a quiet hour + away from business stress—a little domesticity, if I may say it—our + house—” + </p> + <p> + “You are very kind. Business allows me very few intermissions. Still—” + </p> + <p> + She extended her hand with her sweetest smile. Caroline shook hands, too, + and Grant bowed them out. + </p> + <p> + On other occasions Mrs. LeCord and her daughter were fortunate enough to + find Grant alone, and at such times the mother’s conversation became even + more pointed than in their first interview. Grant hesitated to offend her, + mainly on account of Caroline, for whom he admitted to himself it would + not be at all difficult to muster up an attachment. There were, however, + three barriers to such a development. One was the obvious purpose of Mrs. + LeCord to arrange a match; a purpose which, as a mere matter of the game, + he could not allow her to accomplish. One was Zen Transley. There was no + doubt about it. Zen Transley stood between him and marriage to any girl. + Not that he ever expected to take her into his life, or be admitted into + hers, but in some way she hedged him about. He felt that everything was + not yet settled; he found himself entertaining a foolish sense that + everything was not quite irrevocable.... And then there was—perhaps—Phyllis + Bruce. + </p> + <p> + When at length, for some reason, Mrs. LeCord visited him alone he decided + to be frank with her. + </p> + <p> + “You have thought me clever enough to advise you on financial matters?” he + queried, when his visitor had discussed at some length the new loan in + which she was investing. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes,” she returned, detecting the personal note in his voice. “I + sometimes think, Mr. Grant, you hardly do yourself justice. Even the + hardest old heads on the Exchange are taking notice of you. I have heard + your name mentioned—” + </p> + <p> + “Then it may be presumed,” he interrupted, “that I am clever enough to + know the real purpose of your visits to this office?” + </p> + <p> + She turned a little in her chair, facing him squarely. “I hardly + understand you, Mr. Grant.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I possess an advantage, because I quite clearly understand you. I + have hesitated, out of consideration for your daughter, to show any + resentment of your behavior. But I must now tell you that when I marry, if + ever I do, I shall choose my wife without the assistance of her mother, + and without regard to her dowry or the size of the family bank account.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I protest!” exclaimed Mrs. LeCord, who had grown very red. “I protest + against any such conclusion. I have seen fit to intrust my financial + affairs to your firm; I have visited you on business—accompanied at + times by my daughter, it is true—but only on business; recognizing + in you a social equal I have invited you to my house, a courtesy which, so + far, you have not found yourself able to accept; but in all this I have + shown toward you surely nothing but friendliness and a respect amounting, + if I may say it, to esteem. But now that you are frank, Mr. Grant, I too + will be frank. You cannot be unaware of the rumors which have been + associated with your name?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean about Miss Bruce?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then you know of them. You are a young man, and we older people are + disposed to make allowance for the—for that. But you must realize + the great mistake you would be making should you allow this matter to + become more than—a rumor.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not admit your right to question me on such a subject, Mrs. LeCord, + but I shall not avoid a discussion of it. Suppose, for the sake of + argument, that I were to contemplate marriage with Miss Bruce; if she and + her relatives were agreeable, what right would anyone have to object?” + </p> + <p> + “It would be a great mistake,” Mrs. LeCord insisted, avoiding his + question. “She is not in your class—” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by ‘class’?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I mean socially, of course. She lives in a different world. She has + no standing, in a social way. She works in an office for a living—” + </p> + <p> + “So do I,” he interrupted, “and your daughters do not. It would therefore + appear that I am more in Miss Bruce’s ‘class’ than in theirs.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, but you are an employer. You direct things. You work because you want + to, not because you have to. That makes a difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Apparently it does. Well, if I had my way, everybody would work, whether + he wanted to or not. I would not allow any healthy man to spend money + which he had not earned by the sweat of his own brow. I am convinced that + that is the only economic system which is sound at the bottom, but it + would destroy ‘class,’ as at present organized, so ‘class’ must fight it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid you are rather radical, Mr. Grant. You may be sure that a + system which has served so long and so well is a good system.” + </p> + <p> + “That introduces the clash between East and West. The East says because + things are so, and have always been so, they must be right. The West says + because things are so, and have always been so, they are in all + probability wrong. I guess I am a Westerner.” + </p> + <p> + “You should not allow your theories of economics to stand in the way of + your success,” Mrs. LeCord pursued. “Suppose I admit that Caroline would + not be altogether deaf to your advances. Suppose I admit that much. + Allowing for a mother’s prejudice, will you not agree with me that + Caroline has her attractions? She is well bred, well educated, and not + without appearance. She belongs to the smartest set in town. Her circle + would bring you not only social distinction, but valuable business + connections. She would introduce that touch of refinement—” + </p> + <p> + But Grant, now thoroughly angry, had risen from his chair. “You speak of + refinement,” he exclaimed, in the quick, sharp tones which alone revealed + the fighting Grant;—“you, who have been guilty of—I could use + a very ugly word which I will give you the credit of not understanding. + When I decide to buy myself a wife I will send to you for a catalogue of + your daughter’s charms.” + </p> + <p> + Grant dismissed Mrs. LeCord from his office with the confident expectation + that he soon would have occasion to know something of the meaning of the + proverb about hell’s furies and a woman scorned. She would strike at him, + of course, through Phyllis Bruce. Well— + </p> + <p> + But his attention was at once to be turned to very different matters. A + stock market, erratic for some days, went suddenly into a paroxysm. Grant + escaped with as little loss as possible for himself and his clients, and + after three sleepless nights called his staff together. They crowded into + the board-room, curious, apprehensive, almost frightened, and he looked + over them with an emotion that was quite new to his experience. Even in + the aloofness which their standards had made it necessary for him to adopt + there had grown up in his heart, quite unnoticed, a tender, sweet foliage + of love for these men and women who were a part of his machine. Now, as he + looked in their faces he realized how, like little children, they leaned + on him—how, like little children, they feared his power and his + displeasure—how, perhaps, like little children, they had learned to + love him, too. He realized, as he had never done before, that they WERE + children; that here and there in the mass of humanity is one who was born + to lead, but the great mass itself must be children always, doing as they + are bid. + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” he managed to say, “we suddenly find ourselves in tremendous + times. Some of you know my attitude toward this business in which we are + engaged. I did not seek it; I did not approve of it; I tried to avoid it; + yet, when the responsibility was forced upon me I accepted that + responsibility. I gave up the life I enjoyed, the environment in which I + found delight, the friends I loved. Well—our nation is now in a + somewhat similar position. It has to go into a business which it did not + seek, of which it does not approve, but which fate has thrust upon it. It + has to break off the current of its life and turn it into undreamed-of + channels, and we, as individuals who make up the nation, must do the same. + I have already enlisted, and expect that within a few hours I shall be in + uniform. Some of you are single men of military age; you will, I am sure, + take similar steps. For the rest—the business will be wound up as + soon as possible, so that you may be released for some form of national + service. You will all receive three months’ salary in lieu of notice. Mr. + Murdoch will look after the details. When that has been done my wealth, or + such part of it as remains, will be placed at the disposal of the + Government. If we win it will be well invested in a good cause; if we + lose, it would have been lost anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “We are not going to lose!” It was one of the younger clerks who + interrupted; he stood up and for a moment looked straight at his chief. In + that instant’s play of vision there was surely something more than can be + told in words, for the next moment he rushed forward and seized one of + Grant’s hands in both his own. There was a moment’s handclasp, and the boy + had become a man. + </p> + <p> + “I’m going, Grant,” he said. “I’m going—NOW!” + </p> + <p> + He turned and made his way out of the room, leaving his chief breathless + in a rapture of joy and pride. Others crowded up. They too were going—NOW. + Even old Murdoch tried to protest that he was as good a man as ever. It + seemed to Grant that the drab everyday costumings of his staff had fallen + away, and now they were heroes, they were gods! + </p> + <p> + No one knew just how the meeting broke up, but Grant had a confused + remembrance of many handclasps and some tears. He was not sure that he had + not, perhaps, added one or two to the flow, but they were all tears of + friendship and of an emotion born of high resolve.... The most wonderful + thing was that the youngster had called him Grant! + </p> + <p> + As he stood in his own office again, trying to get the events of these + last few days into some sort of perspective, Phyllis Bruce entered. He + motioned dumbly to a chair, but she came and stood by his desk. Her face + was very white and her lips trembled with the words she tried to utter. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t go,” she managed to say at length. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t go? I don’t understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Hubert has joined,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Hubert, the boy! Why, he is only in school—” + </p> + <p> + “He is sixteen, and large for his age. He came home confessing, and saying + it was his first lie, and the first important thing he ever did without + consulting mother. He said he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand it if he + told her first.” + </p> + <p> + “Foolish, but heroic,” Grant commented. “Be proud of him. It takes more + than wisdom to be heroic.” + </p> + <p> + “And Grace is going to England. She was taking nursing, you know, and so + gets a preference. We can’t ALL leave mother.” + </p> + <p> + He found it difficult to speak. “You wanted to go to the Front?” he + managed. + </p> + <p> + “Of course; where else?” + </p> + <p> + Her hand was on the desk; his own slipped over until it closed on it. + </p> + <p> + “You are a little heroine,” he murmured. + </p> + <p> + “No, I’m not. I’m a little fool to tell you this, but how can I stay—why + should I stay—when you are gone?” + </p> + <p> + She was looking down, but after her confession she raised her eyes to his, + and he wondered that he had never known how beautiful she was. He could + have taken her in his arms, but something, with the power of invisible + chains, held him back. In that supreme moment a vision swam before him; a + vision of a mountain stream backed by tawny foothills, and a girl as + beautiful as even this Phyllis who had wrapped him in her arms... and + said, “We must go and forget.” And he had not forgotten.... + </p> + <p> + When he did not respond she drew herself slowly away. “You will hate me,” + she said. + </p> + <p> + “That is impossible,” he corrected, quickly. “I am very sorry if I have + let you think more than I intended. I care for you very, very much indeed. + I care for you so much that I will not let you think I care for you more. + Can you understand that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. You like me, but you love someone else.” + </p> + <p> + He was disconcerted by her intuition and the terse frankness with which + she stated the case. + </p> + <p> + “I will take you into my confidence, Phyllis, if I may,” he said at + length. “I DO like you; I DID love someone else. And that old attachment + is still so strong that it would be hardly fair—it would be hardly + fair—” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you marry her?” she demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Because some one else did.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + Her hands found his this time. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry I brought + this up—sorry I raised these memories. But now you—who have + known—will know—” + </p> + <p> + “I know—I know,” he murmured, raising her fingers to his lips.... + </p> + <p> + “Time, they say, is a healer of all wounds. Perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is better that you should forget. Only, I shall see you off; I + shall wave my handkerchief to YOU; I shall smile on YOU in the crowd. Then—you + will forget.”... + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + Four years of war add only four years to the life of a man according to + the record in the family Bible, if he happen to spring from stock in which + that sacred document is preserved. But four years of war add twenty years + to the grey matter behind the eyes—eyes which learn to dream and + ponder strangely, and sometimes to shine with a hardness that has no part + with youth. When Captain Grant and Sergeant Linder stepped off the train + at Grant’s old city there was, however, little to suggest the ageing + process that commonly went on among the soldiers in the Great War. Grant + had twice stopped an enemy bullet, but his fine figure and sunburned + health now gave no evidence of those experiences. Linder counted himself + lucky to carry only an empty sleeve. + </p> + <p> + They had fallen in with each other in France, and the friendship planted + in the foothills of the range country had grown, through the strange + prunings and graftings of war, into a tree of very solid timber. Linder + might have told you of the time his captain found him with his arm crushed + under a wrecked piece of artillery, and Grant could have recounted a story + of being dragged unconscious out of No Man’s Land, but for either to dwell + upon these matters only aroused the resentment of the other, and + frequently led to exchanges between captain and sergeant totally + incompatible with military discipline. They were content to pay tribute to + each other, but each to leave his own honors unheralded. + </p> + <p> + “First thing is a place to eat,” Grant remarked, when they had been + dismissed. Words to similar effect had, indeed, been his first remark upon + every suitable opportunity for three months. An appetite which has been + four years in the making is not to be satisfied overnight, and Grant, + being better fortified financially against the stress of a good meal, + sought to be always first to suggest it. Linder accepted the situation + with the complacence of a man who has been four years on army pay. + </p> + <p> + When they had eaten they took a walk through the old town—Grant’s + old town. It looked as though he had stepped out of it yesterday; it was + hard to realize that ages lay between. There are experiences which soak in + slowly, like water into a log. The new element surrounds the body, but it + may be months before it penetrates to the heart. Grant had some sense of + that fact as he walked the old familiar streets, apparently unchanged by + all these cataclysmic days.... In time he would come to understand. There + was the name plate of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett. There + had not even been an addition to the firm. Here was the old Grant office, + now used for some administration purpose. That, at least, was a move in + the right direction. + </p> + <p> + They wandered along aimlessly while the sunset of an early summer evening + marshalled its glories overhead. On a side street children played in the + roadway; on a vacant spot a game of ball was in progress. Women sat on + their verandas and shot casual glances after them as they passed. Handsome + pleasure cars glided about; there was a smell of new flowers in all the + air. + </p> + <p> + “What do you make of it, mate?” said Grant at last. + </p> + <p> + Linder pulled slowly on his cigarette. Even his training as a sergeant had + not made him ready of speech, but when he spoke it was, as ever, to the + point. + </p> + <p> + “It’s all so unnecessary,” he commented at length. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the way it gets me, too. So unnecessary. You see, when you get + down to fundamentals there are only two things necessary—food and + shelter. Everything else may be described as trimmings. We’ve been dealing + with fundamentals so long—-mighty bare fundamentals at that—that + all these trimmings seem just a little irritating, don’t you think?” + </p> + <p> + “I follow you. I simply can’t imagine myself worrying over a stray calf.” + </p> + <p> + “And I can’t imagine myself sitting in an office and dealing with such + unessential things as stocks and bonds.... And I’m not going to.” + </p> + <p> + “Got any notion what you will do?” said Linder, when he had reached the + middle of another cigarette. + </p> + <p> + “Not the slightest. I don’t even know whether I’m rich or broke. I suppose + if Jones and Murdoch are still alive they will be looking after those + details. Doing their best, doubtless, to embarrass me with additional + wealth. What are YOU going to do?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t know. Maybe go back and work for Transley.” + </p> + <p> + The mention of Transley threw Grant’s mind back into old channels. He had + almost forgotten Transley. He told himself he had quite forgotten Zen + Transley, but once he knew he lied. That was when they potted him in No + Man’s Land. As he lay there, waiting.... he knew he had not forgotten. And + he had thought many times of Phyllis Bruce. At first he had written to + her, but she had not answered his letters. Evidently she meant him to + forget. Nor had she come to the station to welcome him home. Perhaps she + did not know. Perhaps—Many things can happen in four years. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly it occurred to Grant that it might be a good idea to call on + Phyllis. He would take Linder along. That would make it less personal. He + knew his man well enough to keep his own counsel, and eventually they + reached the gate of the Bruce cottage, as though by accident. + </p> + <p> + “Let’s turn in here. I used to know these people. Mother and daughter; + very fine folk.” + </p> + <p> + Linder looked for an avenue of retreat, but Grant barred his way, and + together they went up the path. A strange woman, with a baby on her arm, + met them at the door. Grant inquired for Mrs. Bruce and her daughter. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you haven’t heard?” said the woman. “I suppose you are just back. + Well, it was a sad thing, but these have been sad times. It was when + Hubert was killed I came here first. Poor dear, she took that to heart + awful, and couldn’t be left alone, and Phyllis was working in an office, + so I came here part time to help out. Then she was just beginning to brace + up again when we got the word about Grace. Grace, you know, was lost on a + hospital ship. That was too much for her.” + </p> + <p> + Grant received this information with a strange catching about the heart. + There had been changes, after all. + </p> + <p> + “What became of Phyllis?” He tried to ask the question in an even voice. + </p> + <p> + “I moved into the house after Mrs. Bruce died,” the woman continued, “as + my man came back discharged about that time. Phyllis tried to get on as a + nurse, but couldn’t manage it. Then her office was moved to another part + of the city and she took rooms somewhere. At first she came to see us + often, but not lately. I suppose she’s trying to forget.” + </p> + <p> + “Trying to forget,” Grant muttered to himself. “How much of life is made + up of trying to forget!” + </p> + <p> + Further questions brought no further information. The woman didn’t know + the firm for which Phyllis worked; she thought it had to do with + munitions. Suddenly Grant found himself impelled by a tremendous desire to + locate this girl. He would set about it at once; possibly Jones or Murdoch + could give him information. Strangely enough, he now felt that he would + prefer to be rid of Linder’s company. This was a matter for himself alone. + He took Linder to an hotel, where they arranged for lodgings, and then + started on his search. + </p> + <p> + He located Murdoch without difficulty. It was now late, and the old clerk + came down the stairs with inoffensive imprecations upon the head of his + untimely caller, but his mutterings soon gave way to a cry of delight. + </p> + <p> + “My dear boy!” he exclaimed, embracing him. “My dear boy—excuse me, + sir, I’m a blithering old man, but oh! sir—my boy, you’re home + again!” There was no doubting the depth of old Murdoch’s welcome. He ran + before Grant into the living-room and switched on the lights. In a moment + he was back with his arm about the young man’s shoulder; he was with + difficulty restraining caresses. + </p> + <p> + “Sit you down, Mr. Grant; here—this chair—it’s easier. I must + get the women up. This is no night for sleeping. Why didn’t you send us + word?” + </p> + <p> + “There is a tradition that official word is sent in advance,” Grant tried + to explain. + </p> + <p> + “Aye, a tradition. There’s a tradition that a Scotsman is a dour body + without any sentiment. Well—I must call the women.” + </p> + <p> + He hurried up the stairs and Grant settled back into his chair. So this + was the home of Murdoch, the man who really had earned a considerable part + of the Grant fortune. He had never visited Murdoch before; he had never + thought of him in a domestic sense; Murdoch had always been to him a man + of figures, of competent office routine, of almost too respectful + deference. The light over the centre table fell subdued through a pinkish + shade; the corners of the room lay in restful shadows; the comfortable + furniture showed the marks of years. The walls suggested the need of new + paper; the well-worn carpet had been shifted more than once for economy’s + sake. Grant made a hasty appraisal of these conditions; possibly his old + clerk was feeling the pinch of circumstances— + </p> + <p> + Murdoch, returning, led in his wife, a motherly woman who almost kissed + the young soldier. In the welcome of her greeting it was a moment before + Grant became aware of the presence of a fourth person in the room. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad to see you safely back,” said Phyllis Bruce. “We have all + been thinking about you a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Miss—Phyllis! It was you I was looking for!” The frank + confession came before he had time to suppress it, and, having said so + much, it seemed better to finish the job. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Phyllis is making her home with us now,” Mrs. Murdoch explained. “It + is more convenient to her work.” + </p> + <p> + Grant wondered how much of this arrangement was due to Mrs. Murdoch’s + sympathy for the bereaved girl, and how much to the addition which it made + to the family income. No doubt both considerations had contributed to it. + </p> + <p> + “I called at your old home,” he continued. “I needn’t say how distressed I + was to hear—The woman could tell me nothing of you, so I came to + Murdoch, hoping—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, simply, as though there were nothing more to explain. + Grant noticed that her eyes were larger and her cheeks paler than they had + been, but the delight of her presence leapt about him. Her hurried costume + seemed to accentuate her beauty despite of all that war had done to + destroy it. There was a silence which lengthened out. They were all + groping for a footing. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Murdoch met the situation by insisting that she would put on the + kettle, and Mr. Murdoch, in a burst of almost divine inspiration, insisted + that his wife was quite incompetent to light the gas alone at that hour of + the night. When the old folks had shuffled into the kitchen Grant found + himself standing close to Phyllis Bruce. + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you answer my letters?” he demanded, plunging to the issue + with the directness of his nature. + </p> + <p> + “Because I had promised to let you forget,” she replied. There was a + softness in her voice which he had not noted in those bygone days; she + seemed more resigned and yet more poised; the strange wizardry of + suffering had worked new wonders in her soul. Suddenly, as he looked upon + her, he became aware of a new quality in Phyllis Bruce—the quality + of gentleness. She had added this to her unique self-confidence, and it + had toned down the angularities of her character. To Grant, straight from + his long exile from fine womanly domesticity, she suddenly seemed + altogether captivating. + </p> + <p> + “But I didn’t want to forget!” he insisted. “I wanted not to forget—YOU.” + </p> + <p> + She could not misunderstand the emphasis he placed on that last word, but + she continued as though he had not interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “I knew you would write once or twice out of courtesy. I knew you would do + that. I made up my mind that if you wrote three times, then I would know + you really wanted to remember me.... I did not get any third letter.” + </p> + <p> + “But how could I know that you had placed such a test—such an + arbitrary measurement—upon my friendship?” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t necessary for you to know. If you had cared—enough—you + would have kept on writing.” + </p> + <p> + He had to admit to himself that there was just enough truth in what she + said to make her logic unanswerable. His delight in her presence now did + not alter the fact that he had found it quite possible to live for four + years without her, and it was true that upon one or two great vital + moments his mind had leapt, not to Phyllis Bruce, but to Zen Transley! He + blushed at the recollection; it was an impossible situation, but it was + true! + </p> + <p> + He was framing some plausible argument about honorable men not persisting + in a correspondence when Murdoch bustled in again. + </p> + <p> + “Mother is going to set the dining-room table,” he announced, “and the + coffee will be ready presently. Well, sir, you do look well in uniform. + You will be wondering how the business has gone?” + </p> + <p> + “Not half as much as I am wondering some other things,” he said, with a + significance intended for the ear of Phyllis. “You see—I was just + talking it over with a pal to-day, a very good comrade whom I used to know + in the West, and who pulled me out of No Man’s Land where I would have + been lying yet if he hadn’t thought more of me than he did of himself—I + was talking it over with him to-day, and we agreed that business isn’t + worth the effort. Fancy sitting behind a desk, wondering about the stock + market, when you’ve been accustomed to leaning up against a parapet + wondering where the next shell is going to burst! If that is not from the + sublime to the ridiculous, it is at least from the vital to the + inconsequential. You can’t expect men to take a jump like that.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not as a jump,” Murdoch agreed. “They’ll have to move down gradually. + But they must remember that life depends quite as much on wheat-fields as + it does on trenches, and that all the machinery of commerce and industry + is as vital in its way as is the machinery of war. They must remember + that, or instead of being at the end of our troubles we will find + ourselves at the beginning.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” Grant conceded, “but it all seems so unnecessary. No doubt + you have been piling up more money to be a problem to my conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “Your peculiar conscience, I might almost correct, sir. Your + responsibilities do seem to insist upon increasing. Following your + instructions I put the liquid assets into Government bonds. Interest, even + on Government bonds, has a way of working while you sleep. Then, you may + remember, we were carrying a large load of certain steel stocks. These I + did not dispose of at once, with the result that they, in themselves, have + made you a comfortable fortune.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I should thank you for your foresight, Murdoch. I was rather + hoping you would lose my money and so relieve me of an embarrassing + situation. What am I to do with it?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, sir, but I feel sure you will use it for some good purpose. + I was glad to get as much of it together for you as I did, because + otherwise it might have fallen to people who would have wasted it.” + </p> + <p> + “Upon my word, Murdoch, that smacks of my own philosophy. Is it possible + even you are becoming converted?” + </p> + <p> + “Come, Mr. Grant; come, everybody!” a cheerful voice called from behind + the sliding doors which shut off the dining-room. The fragrant smell of + coffee was already in the air, and as Grant took his seat Mrs. Murdoch + declared that for once she had decided to defy all the laws of digestion. + </p> + <p> + At the table their talk dribbled out into thin channels. It was as though + there were at hand a great reservoir of thought, of experience, of deep + gropings into the very well-springs of life, which none of them dared to + tap lest it should rush out and overwhelm them. They seemed in some + strange awe of its presence, and spoke, when they spoke at all, of trivial + things. Grant proved uncommunicative, and perhaps, in a sense, + disappointing. He preferred to forget both the glories and the horrors of + war; when he drew on his experience at all it was to relate some humorous + incident. That, it seemed, was all he cared to remember. He was conscious + of a restraint which hedged him about and hampered every mental + deployment. + </p> + <p> + Phyllis, too, must have been conscious of that restraint, for before they + parted she said something about human minds being like pianos, which get + out of tune for lack of the master-touch.... + </p> + <p> + When Grant found himself in the street air again he was almost swallowed + up in the rush of things which he might have said. His mental machinery, + which seemed to have been out of mesh,—came back into adjustment + with a jerk. He suddenly discovered that he could think; he could drive + his mind from his own batteries. In soldiering the mind is driven from the + batteries of the rank higher up. The business of discipline is to make man + an automatic machine rather than a thinking individual. It seemed to Grant + that in that moment the machine part of him gave way and the individual + was restored. In his case the change came in a moment; he had been + re-tuned; he was able to think logically in terms of civil life. He pieced + together Murdoch’s conversation. “Not as a jump,” Murdoch had said, when + he had argued that a man cannot emerge in a moment from the psychology of + the trenches to that of the counting-house. Undoubtedly that would be true + of the mass; they would experience no instantaneous readjustment.... + </p> + <p> + There are moments when the mind, highly vitalized, reaches out into the + universe of thought and grasps ideas far beyond its conscious intention. + All great thoughts come from uncharted sources of inspiration, and it may + be that the function of the mind is not to create thought, but only to + record it. To do so it must be tuned to the proper key of receptivity. + Grant had a consciousness, as he walked along the deserted streets toward + his hotel, that he was in that key; the quietness, the domesticity of + Murdoch’s home, the loveliness of Phyllis Bruce, had, for the moment at + least, shut out a background of horror and lifted his thought into an + exalted plane. He paused at a bridge to lean against the railing and watch + the trembling reflection of city lights in the river. + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” he suddenly exclaimed to the steel railing. “I have it!” + </p> + <p> + He paused for a moment to turn over his thought, as though to make sure it + should not escape. Then, at a pace which aroused the wondering glance of + one or two placid policemen, he hurried to the hotel. + </p> + <p> + Linder and Grant had been assigned to the same room, and the sergeant’s + dreams, if he dreamt at all, were of the sweet hay meadows of the West. + Grant turned on the light and looked down into the face of his friend. A + smile, born of fields afar from war’s alarms, was playing about his lips. + Even in his excitement Grant could not help reflecting what a wonderful + thing it is to sleep in peace. Then— + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” he shouted. “Linder, I have it!” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant sat up with a start, blinking. + </p> + <p> + “I have it!” Grant repeated. + </p> + <p> + “THEM, you mean,” said Linder, suddenly awake. “Why, man, what’s wrong + with you? You’re more excited than if we were just going over the top.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve got my great idea. I know what I’m going to do with my money.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t do it to-night,” Linder protested. “Someone has to settle for + this dug-out in the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “We’re leaving for the West to-morrow, Linder, old scout. Everybody will + say we’re crazy, but that’s a good sign. They’ve said that of every + reformer since—” + </p> + <p> + But Linder was again sleeping the sleep of a man four years in France. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + The window was grey with the light of dawn before Grant’s mind had calmed + down enough for sleep. When Linder awoke him it was noon. + </p> + <p> + “You sleep well on your Big Idea,” was his comment. + </p> + <p> + “No better than you did last night,” retorted Grant, springing out of bed. + “Let me see.... yes, I still have it clearly. I’ll tell you about it + sometime, if you can stay awake. When do we eat?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, or as soon as you are presentable. I’ve a notion to give you three + days’ C.B. for appearing on parade in your pyjamas.” + </p> + <p> + “Make it a cash fine, Sergeant, old dear, and pay it out of what you owe + me. Now that that is settled order up a decent meal. I’ll be shaved and + dressed long before it arrives. You know this is a first-class hotel, + where prompt service would not be tolerated.” + </p> + <p> + As they ate together Grant showed no disposition to discuss what Linder + called his Big Idea, nor yet to give any satisfaction in response to his + companion’s somewhat pointed references as to his doings of the night + before. + </p> + <p> + “There are times, Linder,” he said, “when my soul craves solitude. You, + being a sergeant, and therefore having no soul, will not be able to + understand that longing for contemplation—” + </p> + <p> + “It’s all right,” said Linder. “I don’t want her.” + </p> + <p> + “Furthermore,” Grant continued, “to-night I mean to resume my soliloquies, + and your absence will be much in demand.” + </p> + <p> + “The supply will be equal to the demand.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Here are some morsels of money. If you will buy our railway tickets + and settle with the chief extortionist downstairs I will join you at the + night train going west.” + </p> + <p> + Linder sprang to attention, gave a salute in which mock deference could + not entirely obscure the respect beneath, and set about on his + commissions, while Grant devoted the afternoon to a session with Murdoch + and Jones, to neither of whom would he reveal his plans further than to + say he was going west “to engage in some development work.” During the + afternoon it was noted that Grant’s interest centred more in a certain + telephone call than in the very gratifying financial statement which + Murdoch was able to place before him. And it was probably as a result of + that telephone call that a taxi drew up in front of Murdoch’s home at + exactly six-thirty that evening and bore Miss Phyllis Bruce and an officer + wearing a captain’s uniform in the direction of the best hotel in the + city. + </p> + <p> + The dining-room was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and soft strains of + music stole vagrantly about its high arching pillars, mingling with the + chatter of lovely women and of men to whom expense was no consideration. + Grant was conscious of a delicious sense of intimacy as he helped Phyllis + remove her wraps and seated himself by her at a secluded corner table. + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” he exclaimed. “I don’t make compliments for exercise, but you + do look stunning to-night!” + </p> + <p> + A warmth of color lit up her cheek—he had noticed at Murdoch’s how + pale she was—and her eyes laughed back at him with some of their + old-time vivacity. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad,” she said. “It seems almost like old times—” + </p> + <p> + They gave their orders, and sat in silence through an overture. Grant was + delighting himself simply in her presence, and guessed that for her part + she could not retract the confession her love had wrung from her so long + ago. + </p> + <p> + “There are some things which don’t change, Phyllis,” he said, when the + orchestra had ceased. + </p> + <p> + She looked back at him with eyes moist and dreamy. “I know,” she murmured. + </p> + <p> + There seemed no reason why Grant should not there and then have laid + himself, figuratively, at her feet. And there was not any reason—only + one. He wanted first to go west. He almost hoped that out there some light + of disillusionment would fall about him; that some sudden experience such + as he had known the night before would readjust his personality in + accordance with the inevitable... + </p> + <p> + “I asked you to dine with me to-night,” he heard himself saying, “for two + reasons: first, for the delight of your exquisite companionship; and + second, because I want to place before you certain business plans which, + to me at least, are of the greatest importance. + </p> + <p> + “You know the position which I have taken with regard to the spending of + money, that one should not spend on himself or his friends anything but + his own honest earnings for which he has given honest service to society. + I have seen no reason to change my position. On the contrary the war has + strengthened me in my convictions. It has brought home to me and to the + world the fact that heroism is a flower which grows in no peculiar soil, + and that it blossoms as richly among the unwashed and the underfed as + among the children of fortune. This fact only aggravates the extremes of + wealth and poverty, and makes them seem more unjust than ever. + </p> + <p> + “For myself I have accepted this view, but our financial system is founded + upon very different ethics. I wonder if you have ever thought of the fact + that when the barons at Runnymede laid the foundations of democratic + government for the world they overlooked the almost equally important + matter of creating a democratic system of finance. Well—let’s not + delve into that now. The point is that under our present system we do + acquire wealth which we do not earn, and the only thing to be done for the + time being is to treat that wealth as a trust to be managed for the + benefit of humanity. That is what I call the new morality as applied to + money, although it is not so new either. It can be traced back at least + nineteen hundred years, and all our philanthropists, great and little, + have surely caught some glimpse of that truth, unless, perhaps, they gave + their alms that they might have honor of men. But giving one’s money away + does not solve the problem; it pauperizes the recipient and delays the + evolution of new conditions in which present injustices would be + corrected. I hope you are able to follow me?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly. It is easy for me, who have nothing to lose, to follow your + logic. You will have more trouble convincing those whose pockets it would + affect.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure of that. Humanity is pretty sound at heart, but we can’t + abandon the boat we’re on until we have another that is proven seaworthy. + However, it seems to me that I have found a solution which I can apply in + my individual case. Have you thought what are the three greatest needs, + commercially speaking, of the present day?” + </p> + <p> + “Production, I suppose, is the first.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—most particularly production of food. And the others are + corollary to it. They are instruction and opportunity. I am thinking + especially of returned men.” + </p> + <p> + “Production—instruction—opportunity,” she repeated. “How are + you going to bring them about?” + </p> + <p> + “That is my Big Idea, as Linder calls it, although I have not yet confided + in him what it is. Well—the world is crying for food, and in our + western provinces are millions of acres which have never felt the plow—” + </p> + <p> + “In the East, too, for that matter.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but I naturally think of the West. I propose to form a company + and buy a large block of land, cut it up into farms, build houses and + community centres, and put returned men and their families on these farms, + under the direction of specialists in agriculture. I shall break up the + rectangular survey of the West for something with humanizing + possibilities; I mean to supplant it with a system of survey which will + permit of settlement in groups—villages, if you like—where I + shall instal all the modern conveniences of the city, including movie + shows. Our statesmen are never done lamenting that population continues to + flow from the country to the city, but the only way to stop that flow is + to make the country the more attractive of the two.” + </p> + <p> + “But your company—who are to be the shareholders?” + </p> + <p> + “That is the keystone of the Big Idea. There never before was a company + like this will be. In the first place, I shall put up all the money + myself. Then, when I have prepared a farm ready to receive a man and his + family, I will sell him shares equivalent to the value of his farm, and + give him a perpetual lease, subject to certain restrictions. Let me + illustrate. Suppose you are the prospective shareholder. I say, Miss + Bruce, I can place you on a farm worth, with buildings and equipment, ten + thousand dollars. I do not ask any cash from you; not a cent, but I want + you to subscribe for ten thousand dollars stock in my company. That will + make you a shareholder. When the farm begins to produce you are to have + all you and your family—this is an illustration, you know—can + consume for your own use. The balance is to be sold, and one-third of the + proceeds is to be paid into the treasury of the company and credited on + your purchase of shares. When you have paid for all your shares in this + way you will have no further payments to make, except such levy as may be + made by the company for running expenses. You, as a shareholder of the + company, will have a voice with the other shareholders in determining what + that levy shall be. You and your descendents will be allowed possession of + that farm forever, subject only to your obeying the rules of the company. + You—” + </p> + <p> + “But why the company? It simply amounts to buying the land on payments to + be made out of each year’s crop, except that you want me to pay for shares + in the company instead of for the land itself.” + </p> + <p> + “That, as I told you, is the keystone of my Big Idea. If I sold you the + land you would be master of it; you could do as you liked with it. You + could let it lie idle; you could allow your buildings and machinery to get + out of repair; you could keep scrub stock; all your methods of husbandry + might be slovenly or antiquated; you could even rent or sell the land to + someone who might be morally or socially undesirable in the community. On + the other hand you might be peculiarly successful, when you would proceed + to buy out your less successful neighbors, or make loans on their land, + and thus create yourself a land monopolist. But as a shareholder in the + company you will be subject to the rules laid down by the company. If it + says that houses must be painted every four years you will paint your + house every fourth year. If it rules that hayracks are not to be left on + the front lawn you will have to deposit yours somewhere else. If it orders + that crops must be rotated to preserve the fertility of the soil you will + obey those instructions. If you do not like the regulations you can use + your influence with the board of directors to have them changed. If you + fail there you can sell your shares to someone else—provided you can + find a purchaser acceptable to the board—and get out. The Big Idea + is that the community—the company in this case—shall control + the individual, and the individual shall exert his proper measure of + control over the community. The two are interlocked and interdependent, + each exerting exactly the proper amount of power and accepting + proportionate responsibility.” + </p> + <p> + “But have you provided against the possibility of one man or a group of + men buying up a majority of the stock and so controlling the company? They + could then freeze out the smaller owners.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Grant, toying with his coffee, “I have made a provision for + that which I think is rather ingenious. Don’t imagine that this all came + to me in a moment. The central thought struck me last night on my way + home, and I knew then I had the embryo of the plan, but I lay awake until + daylight working out details. I am going to allot votes on a very unique + principle. It seems to me that a man’s stake in a country should be + measured, not by the amount of money he has, but by the number of mouths + he has to feed. I will adopt that rule in my company, and the voting will + be according to the number of children in the family. That should curb the + ambitious.” + </p> + <p> + They laughed over this proviso, and Phyllis agreed that it was all a very + wonderful plan. “And when they have paid for all their shares you get your + money back,” she commented. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. I don’t want my money back. I didn’t explain that to you. I will + advance the money on the bonds of the company, without interest. Suppose I + am able to finance a hundred farms that way, then as the payments come in, + still more farms. The thing will spread like a ripple in a pool, until it + covers the whole country. When you turn a sum of money loose, WITH NO + INTEREST CHARGE ATTACHED TO IT, there is no limit to what it can + accomplish.” + </p> + <p> + “But what will you do with your bonds, eventually? They will be perfectly + secured. I don’t see that you are getting rid of your money at all, except + the interest, which you are giving away.” + </p> + <p> + “That, Phyllis, is where autocracy and democracy meet. All progress is + like the swinging of a pendulum, with autocracy at one end of the arc and + democracy at the other, and progress is the mean of their opposing forces. + But there are times when the most democratic countries have to use + autocratic methods, as, for example, Great Britain and the United States + in the late war. We must learn to make autocracy the servant of democracy, + not its enemy. Well—I’m going to be the autocrat in this case. I am + going to sit behind the scenes and as long as my company functions all + right I will leave it alone, but if it shows signs of wrecking itself I + will assume the role of the benevolent despot and set it to rights again. + Oh, Phyllis, don’t you see? It’s not just MY company I’m thinking about. + This is an experiment, in which my company will represent the State. If it + succeeds I shall turn the whole machinery over to the State as my + contribution to the betterment of humanity. If it fails—well, then I + shall have demonstrated that the idea is unsound. Even that is worth + something. + </p> + <p> + “I like to think of the great inventors, experimenting with the mysterious + forces of nature. Their business is to find the natural laws that govern + material things. And I am quite sure that there are also natural laws + designed to govern man in his social and economic relationships, and when + those laws have been discovered the impossibilities of to-day will become + the common practice of to-morrow, just as steam and electricity have made + the impossibilities of yesterday the common practice of to-day. The first + need is to find the law, and to what more worthy purpose could a man + devote himself? When I landed here yesterday—when I walked again + through these old streets—I was a being without purpose; I was like + a battery that had dried up. All these petty affairs of life seemed so + useless, so humdrum, so commonplace, I knew I could never settle down to + them again. Then last night from some unknown source came a new idea—an + inspiration—and presto! the battery is re-charged, life again has + its purposes, and I am eager to be at work. + </p> + <p> + “I said ‘some unknown source,’ but it was not altogether unknown. It had + something to do with honest old Murdoch, and his good wife pouring coffee + for the midnight supper in their cozy dining-room, and Phyllis Bruce + across the table! We never know, Phyllis, how much we owe to our friends; + to that charmed circle, be it ever so small, in which every note strikes + in harmony. I know my Big Idea is only playing on the surface; only + skimming about the edges. What the world needs is just friends.” + </p> + <p> + Grant had talked himself out, but he continued to sit at the little table, + reveling in the happiness of a man who feels that he has been called to + some purpose worth while. His companion hesitated to interrupt his + thoughts; her somewhat drab business experience made her pessimistic + toward all idealism, and yet she felt that here, surely, was a man who + could carry almost any project through to success. The unique quality in + him, which distinguished him from any other man she had ever known, was + his complete unselfishness. In all his undertakings he coveted no reward + for himself; he was seeking only the common good. + </p> + <p> + “If all men were like you there would be no problems,” she murmured, and + while he could not accept the words quite at par they rang very pleasantly + in his ears. + </p> + <p> + A movement among the diners reminded him of the flight of time, and with a + glance at his watch he sprang up in surprise. “I had no idea the evening + had gone!” he exclaimed. “I have just time to see you home and get back to + catch my train.” + </p> + <p> + He called a taxi and accompanied her into it. They seated themselves + together, and the fragrance of her presence was very sweet about him. It + would have been so easy to forget—all that he had been trying to + forget—in the intoxication of such environment. Surely it was not + necessary that he should go west—that he should see HER again—in + order to be sure. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis,” he breathed, “do you imagine I could undertake these things if + I cared only for myself—if it were not that I longed for someone’s + approval—for someone to be proud of me? The strongest man is weak + enough for that, and the strongest man is stronger when he knows that the + woman he loves—” + </p> + <p> + He would have taken her in his arms, but she resisted, gently, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “You have made me think too much of you, Dennison,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + On the way west Grant gradually unfolded his plan to Linder, who accepted + it with his customary stoicism. + </p> + <p> + “I’m not very strong for a scheme that hasn’t got any profits in it,” + Linder confessed. “It doesn’t sound human.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t notice that you have ever figured very high in profits on your + own account,” Grant retorted. “Your usefulness has been in making them for + other people. I suppose if I would let you help to swell my bank account + you would work for me for board and lodging, but as I refuse to do that I + shall have to pay you three times Transley’s rate. I don’t know what he + paid you, but I suspect that for every dollar you earned for yourself you + earned two for him, so I am going to base your scale accordingly. You are + to go on with the physical work at once; buy the horses, tractors, + machinery; break up the land, fence it, build the houses and barns; in + short, you are to superintend everything that is done with muscle or its + substitute. I will bring Murdoch out shortly to take charge of the + clerical details and the general organization. As for myself, after I have + bought the land and placed the necessary funds to the credit of the + company I propose to keep out of the limelight. I will be the heart of the + undertaking; Murdoch will be the head, and you are to be the hands, and I + hope you two conspirators won’t give me palpitation. You think it a + mistake to work without profits, but Murdoch thinks it a sin. When I lay + my plans before him I am quite prepared to hear him insist upon calling in + an alienist.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s YOUR money,” Linder assented, laconically. “What are YOU going to + do?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m going to buy a half section of my own, and I’m going to start myself + on it on identically the same terms that I offer to the shareholders in my + company. I want to prove by my own experience that it can be done, but I + must keep away from the company. Human nature is a clinging vine at best, + and I don’t want it clinging about me. You will notice that my plan, + unlike most communistic or socialist ventures, relieves the individual of + no atom of responsibility. I give him the opportunity, but I put it up to + him to make good with that opportunity. I have not overlooked the fact + that a man is a man, and never can be made quite into a machine.” + </p> + <p> + The two friends discussed at great length the details of the Big Idea, and + upon arrival in the West Linder lost no time in preparing blue-prints and + charts descriptive of the improvements to be made on the land and the + order in which the work was to be carried on. Grant bought a tract + suitable to his purpose, and the wheels of the machine which was to blaze + a path for the State were set in motion. When this had been done Grant + turned to the working out of his own individual experiment. + </p> + <p> + During the period in which these arrangements were being made it was + inevitable that Grant should have heard more or less of Transley. He had + not gone out of his way to seek information of the contractor, but it + rather had been forced upon him. Transley’s name was frequently heard in + the offices of the business men with whom he had to do; it was mentioned + in local papers with the regularity peculiar to celebrities in + comparatively small centres. Transley, it appeared, had become something + of a power in the land. Backed by old Y.D.‘s capital he had carried some + rather daring ventures through to success. He had seized the panicky + moments following the outbreak of the war to buy heavily on the wheat and + cattle markets, and increases in prices due to the world’s demand for food + had made him one of the wealthy men of the city. The desire of many young + farmers to enlist had also afforded an opportunity to acquire their + holdings for small considerations, and Transley had proved his patriotism + by facilitating the ambitions of as many men in this position as came to + his attention. The fact that even before the war ended the farms which he + acquired in this way were worth several times the price he paid was only + an incident in the transactions. + </p> + <p> + But no word of Transley’s domestic affairs reached Grant, who told himself + that he had ceased to be interested in them, but kept an alert ear + nevertheless. It would seem that Transley rather eclipsed his wife in the + public eye. + </p> + <p> + So Grant set about with the development of his own farm, and kept his mind + occupied with it and with his larger experiment—except when it went + flirting with thoughts of Phyllis Bruce. He was rather proud of the figure + he had used to Linder, of the head, hands, and heart of his organization, + but to himself he admitted that that figure was incomplete. There was a + soul as well, and that soul was the girl whose inspiring presence had in + some way jerked his mind out of the stagnant backwaters in which the war + had left it. There was no doubt of that. He had written to Murdoch to come + west and undertake new work for him. He had intimated that the change + would be permanent, and that it might be well to bring the family.... + </p> + <p> + He selected a farm where a ridge of foothills overlooked a broad valley + receding into the mountains. The dealer had no idea of selling him this + particular piece of land; they were bound for a half section farther up + the slope when Grant stopped on the brow of the hill to feast his eyes on + the scene that lay before him. It burst upon him with the unexpectedness + peculiar to the foothill valleys; miles of gently undulating plain, lying + apparently far below, but in reality rising in a sharp ascent toward the + snow-capped mountains looking down silently through their gauze of + blue-purple afternoon mist. At distances which even his trained eye would + not attempt to compute lay little round lakes like silver coins on the + surface of the prairie; here and there were dark green bluffs of spruce; + to the right a ribbon of river, blue-green save where the rapids churned + it white, and along its edge a fringe of leafy cottonwoods; at vast + intervals square black plots of plowed land like sections on a chess-board + of the gods, and farm buildings cut so clear in the mountain atmosphere + that the sense of space was lost and they seemed like child-houses just + across the way. + </p> + <p> + Grant turned to his companion with an animation in his face which almost + startled the prosaic dealer in real estate. + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful! Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “We don’t need to go any farther if + you can sell me this.” + </p> + <p> + “Sure I can sell you this,” said the dealer, looking at him somewhat + queerly. “That is, if you want it. I thought you were looking for a wheat + farm.” + </p> + <p> + The man’s total lack of appreciation irritated Grant unreasonably. “Wheat + makes good hog fodder,” he retorted, “but sunsets keep alive the soul. + What is the price?” + </p> + <p> + Again the dealer gave him a queer sidelong look, and made as though to + argue with him, then suddenly seemed to change his purpose. Perhaps he + reflected that strange things happened to the boys overseas. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll get you the price in town,” he said. “You are sure it will suit?” + </p> + <p> + “Suit? No king in Christendom has his palace on a site like this. I’d go + round the world for it.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re the doctor,” said the dealer, turning his car. + </p> + <p> + Grant completed the purchase, ordered lumber for a house and barn, and + engaged a carpenter to superintend the construction. It was one of his + whims that he would do most of the work himself. + </p> + <p> + “I guess I’m rather a man of whims,” he reflected, as he stood on the brow + of the hill where the material for his buildings had been delivered. “It + was a whim which first brought me west, and a whim which has brought me + west again. I have a whim about my money, a whim about my farm, a whim + about my buildings. I do not do as other people do, which is the + unpardonable sin. To Linder I am a jester, to Murdoch a fanatic, to our + friend the real estate dealer a fool; I even noticed my honest carpenter + trying to ask me something about shell shock! Well—they’re MY whims, + and I get an immense amount of satisfaction out of them.” + </p> + <p> + The days that followed were the happiest Grant had known since childhood. + The carpenter, a thin, twisted man, bowed with much labor at the bench, + and answering to the name Peter, sold his services by the day and + manifested a sympathy amounting to an indulgence toward the whims of his + employer. So long as the wages were sure Peter cared not whether the house + was finished this year or next—or not at all. He enjoyed Grant’s + cooking in the temporary work-shed they had built; he enjoyed Grant’s + stories of funny incidents of the war which would crop out at unexpected + moments, and which were always good for a new pipe and a few minutes’ + rest; he even essayed certain flights of his own, which showed that Peter + was a creature not entirely without humor. He developed an appreciation of + scenery; he would stand for long intervals gazing across the valley. Grant + was not deceived by these little devices, but he never took Peter to task + for his loitering. He was prepared almost to suspend his rule that money + must not be paid except for service rendered. “If the old dodger isn’t + quite paying his way now, no doubt he has more than paid it many times in + the past,” he mused. “This is an occasion upon which to temper justice + with mercy.” + </p> + <p> + But it was in the planning and building of the house he found his real + delight. He laid it out on very modest lines, as became the amount of + money he was prepared to spend. It was to be a single-story bungalow, with + veranda round the south and west. The living-room ran across the south + side; into its east wall he built a capacious fireplace, with narrow slits + of windows to right and left, and in the western wall were deep French + windows commanding the magic of the view across the valley. The + dining-room, too, faced to the west, with more French windows to let in + sun and soul. The kitchen was to the east, and off the kitchen lay Grant’s + bedroom, facing also to the east, as becomes a man who rises early for his + day’s labors. And then facing the west, and opening off the dining-room, + was what he was pleased to call his whim-room. + </p> + <p> + The idea of the whim-room came upon him as he was working out plans on the + smooth side of a board, and thinking about things in general, and a good + deal about Phyllis Bruce, and wondering if he should ever run across Zen + Transley. It struck him all of a sudden, as had the Big Idea that night + when he was on his way home from Murdoch’s house. He worked it out + surreptitiously, not allowing even old Peter to see it until he had made + it into his plan, and then he described it just as the whim-room. But it + was to be by all means the best room in the house; special finishing and + flooring lumber were to be bought for it; the fireplace had to be done in + a peculiarly delicate tile; the French windows must be high and wide and + of the most brilliant transparency.... + </p> + <p> + The ring of the saw, the trill of the plane, the thwack of the hammer, + were very pleasant music in his ears. Day by day he watched his dwelling + grow with the infinite joy of creating, and night after night he crept + with Peter into the work-shed and slept the sleep of a man tired and + contented. In the long summer evenings the sunlight hung like a champagne + curtain over the mountains even after bedtime, and Grant had to cut a hole + in the wall of the shed that he might watch the dying colors of the day + fade from crimson to purple to blue on the tassels of cloud-wraith + floating in the western sky. At times Linder and Murdoch would visit him + to report progress on the Big Idea, and the three would sit on a bench in + the half-built house, sweet with the fragrance of new sawdust, and smoke + placidly while they determined matters of policy or administration. It had + been something of a disappointment to Grant that Murdoch had not + considered Phyllis Bruce one of “the family.” He had left her, + regretfully, in the East, but had made provision that she was still to + have her room in the old Murdoch home. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis would have come west, and gladly, if I could have promised her a + position,” Murdoch explained, “but I could not do that, as I knew nothing + of your plans, and a girl can’t afford to trifle with her job these days, + Mr. Grant.” + </p> + <p> + And Grant said nothing, but he thought of his whim-room, and smiled. + </p> + <p> + Grant was almost sorry when the house was finished. “There’s so much more + enjoyment in doing things than in merely possessing them after they’re + done,” he philosophized to Linder. “I think that must be the secret of the + peculiar fascination of the West. The East, with all its culture and + conveniences and beauty, can never win a heart which has once known the + West. That is because in the East all the obvious things are done, but in + the West they are still to do.” + </p> + <p> + “You should worry,” said Linder. “You still have the plowing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and as soon as the stable is finished I am going to buy four horses + and get to work.” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed you would use a tractor.” + </p> + <p> + “Not this time. I can admire a piece of machinery, but I can’t love it. I + can love horses.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ll be housing them in the whim-room,” Linder remarked dryly, and had + to jump to escape the hammer which his chief shied at him. + </p> + <p> + But the plowing was really a great experience. Grant had an eye for + horse-flesh, and the four dapple-greys which pressed their fine shoulders + into the harness of his breaking plow might have delighted the heart of + any teamster. As he sat on his steel seat and watched the colter cut the + firm sod with brittle cracking sound as it snapped the tough roots of the + wild roses, or looking back saw the regular terraces of shiny black mould + which marked his progress, he felt that he was engaged in a rite of almost + sacramental significance. + </p> + <p> + “To take a substance straight from the hand of the Creator and be the + first in all the world to impose a human will upon it is surely an + occasion for solemnity and thanksgiving,” he soliloquized. “How can anyone + be so gross as to see only materialism in such work as this? Surely it has + something of fundamental religion in it! Just as from the soil springs all + physical life, may it not be that deep down in the soil are, some way, the + roots of the spiritual? The soil feeds the city in two ways; it fills its + belly with material food, and it is continually re-vitalizing its spirit + with fresh streams of energy which can come only from the land. Up from + the soil comes all life, all progress, all development—” + </p> + <p> + At that moment Grant’s plowshare struck a submerged boulder, and he was + dumped precipitately into that element which he had been so generously + apostrophizing. The well-trained horses came to a stop as he gathered + himself up, none the worse, and regained his seat. + </p> + <p> + “That WAS a spill,” he commented. “Ditched not only myself, but my whole + train of thought. Never mind; perhaps I was dangerously close to the + development of a new whim, and I am well supplied in that particular + already. Hello, whom have we here?” + </p> + <p> + The horses had come to a stop a short distance before the end of the + furrow, and Grant, glancing ahead, saw immediately in front of them a + little chap of four or five obstructing the way. He stood astride of the + furrow with widespread legs bridging the distance from the virgin prairie + to the upturned sod. He was hatless, and curls of silky yellow hair fell + about his round, bright face. His hands were stuck obtrusively in his + trouser pockets. + </p> + <p> + “Well, son, what’s the news?” said Grant, when the two had measured each + other for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “I got braces,” the boy replied proudly. “Don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, so you have!” Grant exclaimed. “Come around here until I see them + better.” + </p> + <p> + So encouraged, the little chap came skipping around the horses, and + exhibited his braces for Grant’s admiration. But he had already become + interested in another subject. + </p> + <p> + “Are these your horses?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Will they bite?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, I don’t believe they would. They have been very well brought + up.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you call them?” + </p> + <p> + “This one is Prince, on the left, and the others are Queen, and King, and + Knave. I call him Knave because he’s always scheming, trying to get out of + his share of the work, and I make him walk on the plowed land, too.” + </p> + <p> + “That serves him right,” the boy declared. “What’s your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—what’s yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + “Wilson what?” + </p> + <p> + “Just Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + “What does your mother call you?” + </p> + <p> + “Just Wilson. Sometimes daddy calls me Bill.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s your name?” + </p> + <p> + “Call me The Man on the Hill.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you live on the hill?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that your house?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you make it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “All yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Peter helped me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who’s Peter?” + </p> + <p> + “He is the man who helped me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + These credentials exchanged, the boy fell silent, while Grant looked down + upon him with a whimsical admixture of humor and tenderness. Suddenly, + without a word, the boy dashed as fast as his legs could carry him to the + end of the field, and plunged into a clump of bushes. In a moment he + emerged with something brown and chubby in his arms. + </p> + <p> + “He’s my teddy,” he said to Grant. “He was watching in the bushes to see + if you were a nice man.” + </p> + <p> + “And am I?” Grant was tempted to ask. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” There was no evasion about Wilson. He approved of his new + acquaintance, and said so. + </p> + <p> + “Let us give teddy a ride on Prince?” + </p> + <p> + “Let’s!” + </p> + <p> + Grant carefully arranged teddy on the horse’s hames, and the boy clapped + his hands with delight. + </p> + <p> + “Now let us all go for a ride. You will sit on my knee, and teddy will + drive Prince.” + </p> + <p> + He took the boy carefully on his knee, driving with one hand and holding + him in place with the other. The little body resting confidently against + his side was a new experience for Grant. + </p> + <p> + “We must drive carefully,” he remarked. “Here and there are big stones + hidden in the grass. If we were to hit one it might dump us off.” + </p> + <p> + The little chap chuckled. “Nothing could dump you off,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Grant reflected that such implicit and unwarranted confidence implied a + great responsibility, and he drove with corresponding care. A mishap now + might nip this very delightful little bud of hero-worship. + </p> + <p> + They turned the end of the furrow with a fine jingle of loose + trace-chains, and Prince trotted a little on account of being on the outer + edge of the semicircle. The boy clapped his hands again as teddy bounced + up and down on the great shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a little boy?” he asked, when they were started again. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no,” Grant confessed, laughing at the question. + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + There was no evading this childish inquisitor. He had a way of pursuing a + subject to bedrock. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, I’ve no wife.” + </p> + <p> + “No mother?” + </p> + <p> + “No—no wife. You see—” + </p> + <p> + “But I have a mother—” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, and she is your daddy’s wife. You see they have to have that—” + </p> + <p> + Grant found himself getting into deep water, but the sharp little + intellect had cut a corner and was now ahead of him. + </p> + <p> + “Then I’ll be your little boy,” he said, and, clambering up to Grant’s + shoulder pressed a kiss on his cheek. In a sudden burst of emotion Grant + brought his team to a stop and clasped the little fellow in both his arms. + For a moment everything seemed misty. + </p> + <p> + “And I have lived to be thirty-two years old and have never known what + this meant,” he said to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Daddy’s hardly ever home, anyway,” the boy added, naively. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your home?” + </p> + <p> + “Down beside the river. We live there in summer.” + </p> + <p> + And so the conversation continued and the acquaintanceship grew as man and + boy plied back and forth on their mile-long furrow. At length it occurred + to Grant that he should send Wilson home; the boy’s long absence might be + occasioning some uneasiness. They stopped at the end of the field and + carefully removed teddy from his place of prestige, but just at that + moment a horsefly buzzing about caused Prince to stamp impatiently, and + the big hoof came down on the boy’s foot. Wilson sent up a cry + proportionate to the possibilities of the occasion, and Grant in alarm + tore off the boot and stocking. Fortunately the soil had been soft, and + the only damage done was a slight bruise across the upper part of the + foot. + </p> + <p> + “There, there,” said Grant, soothingly, caressing the injury with his + fingers. “It will be all right in a minute. Prince didn’t mean to do it, + and besides, I’ve seen much worse than that at the war.” + </p> + <p> + At the mention of war the boy suspended a cry half uttered. + </p> + <p> + “Were you at the war?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you kill a German?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve seen a German killed,” said Grant, evading a question which no + soldier cares to discuss. + </p> + <p> + “Did you kill ‘em in the tummy?” the boy persisted. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll talk about that to-morrow. Now you hop up on to my shoulders, and + I’ll tie the horses and then carry you home.” + </p> + <p> + He followed the boy’s directions until they led him to a path running + among pleasant trees down by the river. Presently he caught a glimpse of a + cottage in a little open space, its brown shingled walls almost smothered + in a riot of sweet peas. + </p> + <p> + “That’s our house. Don’t you like it?” said the boy, who had already + forgotten his injury. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is splendid.” And Grant, taking his young charge from his + shoulder, stepped up on to the porch and knocked at the screen door. + </p> + <p> + In a moment it was opened by Zen Transley. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + Sitting on his veranda that evening while the sun dropped low over the + mountains and the sound of horses munching contentedly came up from the + stables, Grant for the twentieth time turned over in his mind the events + of a day that was to stand out as an epochal one in his career. The + meeting with the little boy and the quick friendship and confidence which + had been formed between them; the mishap, and the trip to the house by the + river—these were logical and easily followed. But why, of all the + houses in the world, should it have been Zen Transley’s house? Why, of all + the little boys in the world, should this have been the son of his rival + and the only girl he had ever—the girl he had loved most in all his + life? Surely events are ordered to some purpose; surely everything is not + mere haphazard chance! The fatalism of the trenches forbade any other + conclusion; and if this was so, why had he been thrown into the orbit of + Zen Transley? He had not sought her; he had not dreamt of her once in all + that morning while her child was winding innocent tendrils of affection + about his heart. And yet—how the boy had gripped him! Could it be + that in some way he was a small incarnation of the Zen of the Y.D., with + all her clamorous passion expressed now in childish love and hero-worship? + Had some intelligence above his own guided him into this environment, + deliberately inviting him to defy conventions and blaze a path of broader + freedom for himself, and for her? These were questions he wrestled with as + the shadows crept down the mountain slopes and along the valley at his + feet. + </p> + <p> + For neither Zen nor himself had connived at the situation which had made + them, of all the people in the world, near neighbors in this silent + valley. Her surprise on meeting him at the door had been as genuine as + his. When she had made sure that the boy was not seriously hurt she had + turned to him, and instinctively he had known that there are some things + which all the weight of passing years can never crush entirely dead. He + loved to rehearse her words, her gestures, the quick play of sympathetic + emotions as one by one he reviewed them. + </p> + <p> + “You! I am surprised—I had not known—” She had become confused + in her greeting, and a color that she would have given worlds to suppress + crept slowly through her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “I am surprised, too—and delighted,” he had returned. “The little + boy came to me in the field, boasting of his braces.” Then they had both + laughed, and she had asked him to come in and tell about himself. + </p> + <p> + The living-room, as he recalled it, was marked by the simplicity + appropriate to the summer home, with just a dash of elegance in the + furnishings to suggest that simplicity was a matter of choice and not of + necessity. After soothing Wilson’s sobs, which had broken out afresh in + his mother’s arms, she had turned him over to a maid and drawn a chair + convenient to Grant’s. + </p> + <p> + “You see, I am a farmer now,” he had said, apologetically regarding his + overalls. + </p> + <p> + “What changes have come! But I don’t understand; I thought you were rich—very + rich—and that you were promoting some kind of settlement scheme. + Frank has spoken of it.” + </p> + <p> + “All of which is true. You see, I am a man of whims. I choose to live + joyously. I refuse to fit into a ready-made niche in society. I do what + other people don’t do—mainly for that reason. I have some peculiar + notions—” + </p> + <p> + “I know. You told me.” And it was then that their eyes had met and they + had fallen into a momentary silence. + </p> + <p> + “But why are you farming?” she had exclaimed, brightly. + </p> + <p> + “For several reasons. First, the world needs food. Food is the greatest + safeguard—I would almost say the only safeguard—against + anarchy and chaos. Then, I want to learn by experience; to prove by my own + demonstrations that my theories are workable—or that they’re not. + And then, most of all, I love the prairies and the open life. It’s my + whim, and I follow it.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very wonderful,” she had murmured. And then, with startling + directness, “Are you happy?” + </p> + <p> + “As happy as I have any right to be. Happier than I have been since + childhood.” + </p> + <p> + She had risen and walked to the mantelpiece; then, with an apparent change + of impulse, she had turned and faced him. He had noted that her figure was + rounder than in girlhood, her complexion paler, but the sunlight still + danced in her hair, and her reckless force had given way to a poise that + suggested infinite resources of character. + </p> + <p> + “Frank has done well, too,” she had said. + </p> + <p> + “So I have heard. I am told that he has done very well indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “He has made money, and he is busy and excited over his pursuit of success—what + he calls success. He has given it his life. He thinks of nothing else—” + </p> + <p> + She had stopped suddenly, as though her tongue had trapped her into saying + more than she had intended. + </p> + <p> + “What do you think of my summer home?” she had exclaimed, abruptly. “Come + out and admire the sweet peas,” and with a gay little flourish she had led + him into the garden. “They tell me Western flowers have a brilliance and a + fragrance which the East, with all its advantages, cannot duplicate. Is + that true?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it is. The East has greater profusion—more varieties—but + the individual qualities do not seem to be so well developed.” + </p> + <p> + “I see you know something of Eastern flowers,” she had said, and he + fancied he had caught a note of banter—or was it inquiry?—in + her voice. Then, with another abrupt change of subject, she had made him + describe his house on the hill. But he had said nothing of the whim-room. + </p> + <p> + “I must go,” he had exclaimed at length. “I left the horses tied in the + field.” + </p> + <p> + “So you must. I shall let Wilson visit you frequently, if he is not a + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Then she had chosen a couple of blooms and pinned them on his coat, + laughingly overriding his protest that they consorted poorly with his + costume. And she had shaken hands and said good-bye in the manner of good + friends parting. + </p> + <p> + The more Grant thought of it the more was he convinced that in her case, + as in his own, the years had failed to extinguish the spark kindled in the + foothills that night so long ago. He reminded himself continually that she + was Transley’s wife, and even while granting the irrevocability of that + fact he was demanding to know why Fate had created for them both an + atmosphere charged with unspoken possibilities. He had turned her words + over again and again, reflecting upon the abrupt angles her speech had + taken. In their few minutes’ conversation three times she had had to make + a sudden tack to safer subjects. What had she meant by that reference to + Eastern and Western flowers? His answer reminded him how well he knew. And + the confession about her husband, the worshipper of success—“what he + calls success”—how much tragedy lay under those light words? + </p> + <p> + The valley was filled with shadow, and the level rays of the setting sun + fell on the young man’s face and splashed the hill-tops with gold and + saffron as within his heart raged the age-old battle.... But as yet he + felt none of its wounds. He was conscious only of a wholly irrational + delight. + </p> + <p> + As the next forenoon passed Grant found himself glancing with increasing + frequency toward the end of the field where the little boy might be + expected to appear. But the day wore on without sign of his young friend, + and the furrows which he had turned so joyously at nine were dragging + leadenly at eleven. He had not thought it possible that a child could so + quickly have won a way to his affections. He fell to wondering as to the + cause of the boy’s absence. Had Zen, after a night’s reflection, decided + that it was wiser not to allow the acquaintance to develop? Had Transley, + returning home, placed his veto upon it? Or—and his heart paused at + this prospect—had the foot been more seriously hurt than they had + supposed? Grant told himself that he must go over that night and make + inquiry. That would be the neighborly thing to do.... + </p> + <p> + But early that afternoon his heart was delighted by the sight of a little + figure skipping joyously over the furrows toward him. He had his hat + crumpled in one hand, and his teddy-bear in the other, and his face was + alive with excitement. He was puffing profusely when he pulled up beside + the plow, and Grant stopped the team while he got his breath. + </p> + <p> + “My! My! What is the hurry? I see the foot is all better.” + </p> + <p> + “We got a pig!” the lad gasped, when he could speak. + </p> + <p> + “A pig!” + </p> + <p> + “Yessir! A live one, too! He’s awful big. A man brought him in a wagon. + That is why I couldn’t come this morning.” + </p> + <p> + Grant treated himself to a humble reflection upon the wisdom of childish + preferments. + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Eat him up, I guess. Daddy said there was enough wasted about our house + to keep a pig, so we got one. Aren’t you going to take me up?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. But first we must put teddy in his place.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m to go home at five o’clock,” the boy said, when he had got properly + settled. + </p> + <p> + The hours slipped by all too quickly, and if the lad’s presence did not + contribute to good plowing, it at least made a cheerful plowman. It was + plain that Zen had sufficient confidence in her farmer neighbor to trust + her boy in his care, and his frequent references to his mother had an + interest for Grant which he could not have analyzed or explained. During + the afternoon the merits of the pig were sung and re-sung, and at last + Wilson, after kissing his friend on the cheek and whispering, “I like you, + Uncle Man-on-the-Hill,” took his teddy-bear under his arm and plodded + homeward. + </p> + <p> + The next morning he came again, but mournfully and slow. There were tear + stains on the little round cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Why, son, what had happened?” said Grant, his abundant sympathies + instantly responding. + </p> + <p> + “Teddy’s spoiled,” the child sobbed. “I set him—on the side of—the + pig pen, and he fell’d in, and the big pig et him—ate him—up. + He didn’t ‘zactly eat him up, either—just kind of chewed him, like.” + </p> + <p> + “Well that certainly is too bad. But then, you’re going to eat the pig + some day, so that will square it, won’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess it will,” said the boy, brightening. “I never thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “But we must have a teddy for Prince. See, he is looking around, waiting + for it.” Grant folded his coat into the shape of a dummy and set it up on + the hames, and all went merrily again. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon, which was Saturday, the boy came thoughtfully and with an + air of much importance. Delving into a pocket he produced an envelope, + somewhat crumpled in transit. It was addressed, “The Man on the Hill.” + </p> + <p> + Grant tore it open eagerly and read this note: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR MAN-ON-THE-HILL,—That is the name Wilson calls you, so perhaps + you will let me use it, too. Frank is to be home to-morrow, and will you + come and have dinner with us at six? My father and mother will be here, + and possibly one or two others. You had a clash with my men-folk once, but + you will find them ready enough to make allowance for, even if they fail + to understand, your point of view. Do come.—ZEN. + </p> + <p> + “P.S.—It just occurs to me that your associates in your colonization + scheme may want to claim your time on Sunday. If any of them come out, + bring them along. Our table is an extension one, and its capacity has + never yet been exhausted.” + </p> + <p> + Although Grant’s decision was made at once he took some time for + reflection before writing an acceptance. He was to enter Zen’s house on + her invitation, but under the auspices, so to speak, of husband and + parents. That was eminently proper. Zen was a sensible girl. Then there + was a reference to that ancient squabble in the hay meadow. It was + evidently her plan to see the hatchet buried and friendly relations + established all around. Eminently proper and sensible. + </p> + <p> + He turned the sheet over and wrote on the back: + </p> + <p> + “DEAR ZEN,—Delighted to come. May have a couple of friends with me, + one of whom you have seen before. Prepare for an appetite long denied the + joys of home cooking.—D. G.” + </p> + <p> + It was not until after the child had gone home that Grant remembered he + had addressed Transley’s wife by her Christian name. That was the way he + always thought of her, and it slipped on to paper quite naturally. Well, + it couldn’t be helped now. + </p> + <p> + Grant unhitched early and hurried to his house and the telephone. In a few + minutes he had Linder on the line. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Linder? I want you to go to a store for me and buy a teddy-bear.” + </p> + <p> + The chuckle at the other end of the line irritated Grant. Linder had a + strange sense of humor. + </p> + <p> + “I mean it. A big teddy, with electric eyes, and a deep bass growl, if + they make ‘em that way. The best you can get. Fetch it out to-morrow + afternoon, and come decently dressed, for once. Bring Murdoch along if you + can pry him loose.” + </p> + <p> + Grant hung up the receiver. “Stupid chap, Linder, some ways,” he muttered. + “Why shouldn’t I buy a teddy-bear if I want to?” + </p> + <p> + Sunday afternoon saw the arrival of Linder and Murdoch, with the largest + teddy the town afforded. “What is the big idea now?” Linder demanded, as + he delivered it into Grant’s hands. + </p> + <p> + “It is for a little boy I know who has been bereaved of his first teddy by + the activities of the family pig. You will renew some pleasant + acquaintanceships, Linder. You remember Transley and his wife—Zen, + of the Y.D?” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say! Thanks for that tip about dressing up. I may explain,” + Linder continued, turning to Murdoch, “there was a time when I might have + been an also-ran in the race for Y.D.‘s daughter, only Transley beat me on + the getaway.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” Grant exclaimed, incredulously. + </p> + <p> + “You, too!” Linder returned, a great light dawning. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mr. Grant,” said Murdoch, “I brought you a good cigar, bought at + the company’s expense. It comes out of the organization fund. You must be + sick of those cheap cigars.” + </p> + <p> + “Since the war it is nothing but Player’s,” Grant returned, taking the + proffered cigar. “They tell me it has revolutionized the tobacco business. + However, this does smell a bit all right. How goes our venture, Murdoch? + Have I any prospect of being impoverished in a worthy cause?” + </p> + <p> + “None whatever. Your foreman here is spending every dollar in a way to + make you two in spite of your daft notion—begging your pardon, sir—about + not taking profits. The subscribers are coming along for stock, but + fingering it gently, as though they can’t well believe there’s no catch in + it. They say it doesn’t look reasonable, and I tell them no more it is.” + </p> + <p> + “And then they buy it?” + </p> + <p> + “Aye, they do. That’s human nature. There’s as many members booked now as + can be accommodated in the first colony. I suppose they reason that they + will be sure of their winter’s housing, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t seem to have much faith in human nature, Murdoch.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor have I. Not in that kind of human nature which is always wanting + something for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + Linder’s report was more cheerful. The houses and barns were built and + were now being painted, the plowing was done, and the fences were being + run. By the use of a triangular system of survey twelve farm homes had + been centralized in one little community where a community building would + be erected which would be used as a school in daytime, a motion-picture + house at night, and a church on Sunday. A community secretary would have + his office here, and would have charge of a select little library of + fiction, poetry, biography, and works of reference. The leading + periodicals dealing with farm problems, sociology, and economics, as well + as lighter subjects, would be on file. In connection with this building + would be an assembly-room suitable for dances, social events, and + theatricals, and equipped with a player piano and concert-size talking + machine. Arrangements were being made for a weekly exchange of records, + for a weekly musical evening by artists from the city, for a semi-monthly + vaudeville show, and for Sunday meetings addressed by the best speakers on + the more serious topics of the time. + </p> + <p> + “What has surprised me in making these arrangements,” Linder confessed, + “is the comparatively small outlay they involve. The building will cost no + more than many communities spend on school and church which they use + thirty hours a week and three hours a week respectively. This one can be + used one hundred and sixty-eight hours a week, if needed. Lecturers on + many subjects can be had for paying their expenses; in some cases they are + employed by the Government, and will come without cost. Amateur theatrical + companies from the city will be glad to come in return for an appreciative + audience and a dance afterward, with a good fill-up on solid farm cooking. + Even some of the professionals can be had on these terms. Of course, + before long we will produce our own theatricals. + </p> + <p> + “Then there is to be a plunge bath big enough to swim in, open to men and + women alternate nights, and to children every day. There will be a + pool-room, card-room, and refreshment buffet; also a quiet little room for + women’s social events, and an emergency hospital ward. I think we should + hire a trained nurse who would not be too dignified to cook and serve + meals when there’s no business doing in the hospital. You know how + everyone gets hankering now and then for a meal from home,—not that + it’s any better, but it’s different. I suppose there are farmer’s wives + who don’t get a meal away from home once a year. I’m going to change all + that, if I have to turn cook myself!” + </p> + <p> + “Bully for you, Linder!” said Grant, clapping him on the shoulder. “I + believe you actually are enthusiastic for once.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand my orders are to make the country give the city a run for + its money, and I’m going to do it, or break you. If all I’ve mentioned + won’t do it I’ve another great scheme in storage.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am inventing a machine that will make a noise like a trolley-car and a + smell like a sewer. That will add the last touch in city refinements.” + </p> + <p> + When the laugh over Linder’s invention had subsided Murdoch broached + another. + </p> + <p> + “The office work is becoming pretty heavy, Mr. Grant, and I’m none too + confident in the help I have. Now if I could send for Miss Bruce—” + </p> + <p> + “What do you think you should pay her?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say she is worth a hundred dollars a month.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she must be worth two hundred. Wire her to come and start her at + that figure.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + Promptly at six Linder drew his automobile up in front of the Transley + summer home with Grant and Murdoch on board. Wilson had been watching, and + rushed down upon them, but before he could clamber up on Grant a great + teddy-bear was thrust into his arms and sent him, wild with delight, to + his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Look, mother! Look what The-Man-on-the-Hill brought! See! He has fire in + his eyes!” + </p> + <p> + Transley and Y.D. met the guests at the gate. “How do, Grant? Glad to see + you, old man,” said Transley, shaking his hand cordially. “The wife has + had so many good words for you I am almost jealous. What ho, Linder! By + all that’s wonderful! You old prairie dog, why did you never look me up? I + was beginning to think the Boche had got you.” + </p> + <p> + Grant introduced Murdoch, and Y.D. received them as cordially as had + Transley. “Glad to see you fellows back,” he exclaimed. “I al’us said the + Western men ‘ud put a crimp in the Kaiser, spite o’ hell an’ high water!” + </p> + <p> + “One thing the war has taught us,” said Grant, modestly, “is that men are + pretty much alike, whether they come from west or east or north or south. + No race has a monopoly of heroism.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, come on in,” Transley beckoned, leading the way. “Dinner will be + ready sharp on time twenty minutes late. Not being a married man, Grant, + you will not understand that reckoning. You’ll have to excuse Mrs. + Transley a few minutes; she’s holding down the accelerator in the kitchen. + Come in; I want you to meet Squiggs.” + </p> + <p> + Squiggs proved to be a round man with huge round tortoise-shell glasses + and round red face to match. He shook hands with a manner that suggested + that in doing so he was making rather a good fellow of himself. + </p> + <p> + “We must have a little lubrication, for Y.D.‘s sake,” said Transley, + producing a bottle and glasses. “I suppose it was the dust on the plains + that gave these old cow punchers a thirst which never can be slaked. These + be evil days for the old-timers. Grant?” + </p> + <p> + “Not any, thanks.” + </p> + <p> + “No? Well, there’s no accounting for tastes. Squiggs?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m a lawyer,” said Squiggs, “and as booze is now ultra vires I do my + best to keep it down,” and Mr. Squiggs beamed genially upon his pleasantry + and the full glass in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “I take a snort when I want it and I don’t care who knows it,” said Y.D. + “I al’us did, and I reckon I’ll keep on to the finish. It didn’t snuff me + out in my youth and innocence, anyway. Just the same, I’m admittin’ it’s + bad medicine in onskilful hands. Here’s ho!” + </p> + <p> + The glasses had just been drained when Mrs. Transley entered the room, + flushed but radiant from a strenuous half hour in the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here you are!” she exclaimed. “So glad you could come, Mr. Grant. + Why, Mr. Linder! Of all people—This IS a pleasure. And Mr.—?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Murdoch,” Transley supplied. + </p> + <p> + “My chief of staff; the man who persists in keeping me rich,” Grant + elaborated. + </p> + <p> + “I mustn’t keep you waiting longer. Dinner is ready. Dad, you are to + carve.” + </p> + <p> + “Hanged if I will! I’m a guest here, and I stand on my rights,” Y.D. + exploded. + </p> + <p> + “Then you must do it, Frank.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so,” said Transley, “although all I get out of a meal when I + have to carve is splashing and profanity. You know, Squiggs, I’ve figured + it out that this practice of requiring the nominal head of the house to + carve has come down from the days when there wasn’t usually enough to go + ‘round, and the carver had to make some fine decisions and, perhaps, + maintain them by force. It has no place under modern civilization.” + </p> + <p> + “Except that someone must do it, and it’s about the only household + responsibility man has not been able to evade,” said Mrs. Transley. + </p> + <p> + As they entered the dining-room Zen’s mother, whiter and it seemed even + more distinguished by the years, joined them, accompanied by Mrs. Squiggs, + a thin woman much concerned about social status, and the party was + complete. + </p> + <p> + Transley managed the carving more skilfully than his protest might have + suggested, and there was a lull in the conversation while the first + demands of appetite were being satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “Tell us about your settlement scheme, Mr. Grant,” Mrs. Transley urged + when it seemed necessary to find a topic. “Mr. Grant has quite a wonderful + plan.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, wise us up, old man,” said Transley. “I’ve heard something of it, + but never could see through it.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s all very simple,” Grant explained. “I am providing the capital to + start a few families on farms. Instead of lending the money directly to + them I am financing a company in which each farmer must subscribe for + stock to the value of the land he is to occupy. His stock he will pay for + with a part of the proceeds of each year’s crop, until it is paid in full, + when he becomes a paid-up shareholder, subject to no further call except a + levy which may be made for running expenses.” + </p> + <p> + “And then your advances are returned to you with interest,” Squiggs + suggested. “A very creditable plan of benefaction; very creditable, + indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is not the idea. In the first place, I am accepting no interest + on my advances, and in the second place the money, when repaid by the + shareholders, will not be returned to me, but will be used to establish + another colony on the same basis, and so on—the movement will be + extended from group to group.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Squiggs readjusted his large round tortoise-shell glasses. + </p> + <p> + “Do I understand that you are charging no interest?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a cent.” + </p> + <p> + “Then where do YOU come in?” + </p> + <p> + “I had hoped to make it clear that I am not seeking to ‘come in.’ You see, + the money I am doing this with is not really mine at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Not yours?” cried a chorus of voices. + </p> + <p> + “No. Mr. Squiggs, you are a lawyer, and therefore a man of perspicuity and + accurate definitions. What is money?” + </p> + <p> + “You flatter me. I should say that money is a medium for the exchange of + value.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Therefore, if a man accepts money without giving value for it + in exchange he is violating the fundamental principle underlying the use + of money. He is, in short, an economic outlaw.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I don’t follow you.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me illustrate by my own experience, and that of my family. My father + was possessed of a piece of land which at one time had little or no value. + Eventually it became of great value, not through anything he had done, but + as a result of the natural law that births exceed deaths. Yet he, although + he had done nothing to create this value, was able, through a faulty + economic system, to pocket the proceeds. Then, as a result of the + advantages which his wealth gave him, he was able to extract from society + throughout all the remainder of his life value out of all proportion to + any return he made for it. Finally it came down to me. Holding my peculiar + belief, which my right and left bower consider sinful and silly + respectively, I found money forced upon me, regardless of the fact that I + had given absolutely no value in exchange. Now if money is a medium for + the exchange of value and I receive money without giving value for it, it + is plain that someone else must have parted with money without receiving + value in return. The thing is basically immoral.” + </p> + <p> + “Your father couldn’t take it with him.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should <i>I</i> have it? I never contributed a finger-weight of + service for it. From society the money came and to society it should + return.” + </p> + <p> + “You should worry,” said Transley. “Society isn’t worrying over you. Some + more of the roast beef?” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you. But to come down to date. It seems that I cannot get away + from this wealth which dogs me at every turn. Before enlisting I had been + margining certain steel stocks, purely in the ordinary course of affairs. + With the demands made by the war on the steel industry my stocks went up + in price and my good friend Murdoch was able to report that it had made a + fortune for me while I was overseas.... And we call ourselves an + intelligent people!” + </p> + <p> + “And so we are,” said Mr. Squiggs. “We stick to a system we know to be + sound. It has weathered all the gales of the past, and promises to weather + those of the future. I tell you, Grant, communism won’t work. You can’t + get away from the principle of individual reward for individual effort.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear fellow, that’s exactly what I’m pleading for. I have no patience + with any claim that all men are equal, or capable of rendering equal + service to society, and I want payment to be made according to service + rendered, not according to the freaks of a haphazard system such as I have + been trying to describe.” + </p> + <p> + “But how are you going to bring that golden age about?” Murdoch inquired. + </p> + <p> + “By education. The first thing is to accept the principle that wealth + cannot be accepted except in exchange for full-measure service. You, Mrs. + Transley—you teach your little boy that he must not steal. As he + grows older simply widen your definition of theft to include receiving + value without giving value in exchange. When all the mothers begin + teaching that principle the golden age which Mr. Murdoch inquires about + will be in sight.” + </p> + <p> + “How would you drive it home?” said Y.D. “We have too many laws already.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us agree on that. The acceptance of this principle will make half the + laws now cluttering our statute books unnecessary. I merely urge that we + should treat the CAUSE of our economic malady rather than the symptoms.” + </p> + <p> + “Theoretically your idea has much to commend it, but it is quite + impracticable,” Mr. Squiggs announced with some finality. “It could never + be brought into effect.” + </p> + <p> + “If a corporation can determine the value of the service rendered by each + of its hundred thousand employees, why cannot a nation determine the value + of the service rendered by each of its hundred million citizens?” + </p> + <p> + “THERE’S something for you to chew on, Squiggs,” said Transley. “You argue + your case well, Grant; I believe you have our legal light rather feazed—that’s + the word, isn’t it, Mr. Murdoch?—for once. I confess a good deal of + sympathy with your point of view, but I’m afraid you can’t change human + nature.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not trying to do that. All that needs changing is the popular idea + of what is right and what is wrong. And that idea is changing with a + rapidity which is startling. Before the war the man who made money, by + almost any means, was set up on a pedestal called Success. Moralists + pointed to him as one to be emulated; Sunday school papers printed + articles to show that any boy might follow in his footsteps and become + great and respected. To-day, for following precisely the same practices, + the nation demands that he be thrown into prison; the Press heaps + contumely upon him; he has become an object of suspicion in the popular + eye. This change, world wide and quite unforeseen, has come about in five + years.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that due to a new sense of right and wrong, or to just old-fashioned + envy of the rich which now feels strong enough to threaten where it used + to fawn?” Y.D.‘s wife asked, and Grant was spared a hard answer by the + rancher’s interruption, “Hit the profiteer as hard as you like. He’s got + no friends.” + </p> + <p> + “That depends upon who is the profiteer—a point which no one seems + to have settled. In the cities you may even hear prosperous ranchers + included in that class—absurd as that must seem to you,” Grant + added, with a smile to Y.D. “Require every man to give service according + to his returns and you automatically eliminate all profiteers, large and + small.” + </p> + <p> + “But you will admit,” said Mrs. Squiggs, “that we must have some well-off + people to foster culture and give tone to society generally?” + </p> + <p> + “I agree that the boy who is brought up in a home with a bath tub, and all + that that stands for, is likely to be a better citizen than the boy who + doesn’t have that advantage. That’s why I want every home to have a bath + tub.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Squiggs subsided rather heavily. In youth her Saturday night + ablutions had been taken in the middle of the kitchen floor. + </p> + <p> + “I have a good deal of sympathy,” said Transley, “with any movement which + has for its purpose the betterment of human conditions. Any successful man + of to-day will admit, if he is frank about it, that he owes his success as + much to good luck as to good judgment. If you could find a way, Grant, to + take the element of luck out of life, perhaps you would be doing a service + which would justify you in keeping those millions which worry you so. But + I can’t see that it makes any difference to the prosperity of a country + who owns the wealth in it, so long as the wealth is there and is usefully + employed. Money doesn’t grow unless it works, and if it works it serves + Society just the same as muscle does. You could put all your wealth in a + strong-box and bury it under your house up there on the hill, and it + wouldn’t increase a nickel in a thousand years, but if you put it to work + it makes money for you and money for other people as well. I’m a little + nervous about new-fangled notions. It’s easier to wreck the ship than to + build a new one, which may not sail any better. What the world needs + to-day is the gospel of hard work, and everybody, rich and poor, on the + job for all that’s in him. That’s the only way out.” + </p> + <p> + “We seem to have much in common,” Grant returned. “Hard work is the only + way out, and the best way to encourage hard work is to find a system by + which every man will be rewarded according to the service rendered.” + </p> + <p> + At this point Mrs. Transley arose, and the men moved out into the + living-room to chat on less contentious subjects. After a time the women + joined them, and Grant presently found himself absorbed in conversation + with the old rancher’s wife. Zen seemed to pay but little attention to + him, and for the first time he began to realize what consummate actresses + women are. Had Transley been the most suspicious of husbands—and in + reality his domestic vision was as guileless as that of a boy—he + could have caught no glint of any smoldering spark of the long ago. Grant + found himself thinking of this dissembling quality as one of nature’s + provisions designed for the protection of women, much as the sombre + plumage of the prairie chicken protects her from the eye of the sportsman. + For after all the hunting instinct runs through all men, be the game what + it may. + </p> + <p> + Before they realized how the time had flown Linder was protesting that he + must be on his way. At the gate Transley put a hand on Grant’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I’m prepared to admit,” he said, “that there’s a whole lot in this old + world that needs correcting, but I’m not sure that it can be corrected. + You have a right to try out your experiments, but take a tip and keep a + comfortable cache against the day when you’ll want to settle down and take + things as they are. It is true and always has been true that a man who is + worth his salt, when he wants a thing, takes it—or goes down in the + attempt. The loser may squeal, but that seems to be the path of progress. + You can’t beat it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we’ll see,” said Grant, laughing. “Sometimes two men, each worth + his salt, collide.” + </p> + <p> + “As in the meadow of the South Y.D.,” said Transley, with a smile. “You + remember that, Y.D.—when our friend here upset the haying + operations?” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, I remember, but I’m not holdin’ it agin him now. A dead horse is a + dead horse, an’ I don’t go sniffin’ it.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I ought to say, though,” Grant returned, “that I really do not + know how the iron pegs got into that meadow.” + </p> + <p> + “And I don’t know how your haystacks got afire, but I can guess. Remember + Drazk? A little locoed, an’ just the crittur to pull off a fool stunt like + that. When the fire swept up the valley, instead of down, he made his + get-away and has never been seen since. I reckon likely there was someone + in Landson’s gang capable o’ drivin’ pegs without consultin’ the boss.” + </p> + <p> + The little group were standing in the shadow and Grant had no opportunity + to notice the sudden blanching of Zen’s face at the mention of Drazk. + </p> + <p> + “You’re wrong about his not having been seen again, Y.D.,” said Grant. “He + managed to locate me somewhere in France. That reminds me, he had a + message for you, Mrs. Transley. I’m afraid Drazk is as irresponsible as + ever, provided he hasn’t passed out, which is more than likely.” + </p> + <p> + Grant shook hands cordially with Y.D. and his wife, with Squiggs and Mrs. + Squiggs, with Transley and Mrs. Transley. Any inclination he may have felt + to linger over Zen’s hand was checked by her quick withdrawal of it, and + there was something in her manner quite beyond his understanding. He could + have sworn that the self-possessed Zen Transley was actually trembling. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + The next day Wilson paid his usual visit to the field where Grant was + plowing, and again was he the bearer of a message. With much difficulty he + managed to extricate the envelope from a pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Mr. Grant,” it read, “I am so excited over a remark you dropped last + night I must see you again as soon as possible. Can you drop in to-night, + say at eight. Yours,—ZEN.” + </p> + <p> + Grant read the message a second time, wondering what remark of his could + have occasioned it. As he recalled the evening’s conversation it had been + most about his experiment, and he had a sense that he had occupied a + little more of the stage than strictly good form would have suggested. + However, it was HIS scheme that had been under discussion, and he did not + propose to let it suffer for lack of a champion. But what had he said that + could be of more than general interest to Zen Transley? For a moment he + wondered if she had created a pretext upon which to bring him to the house + by the river, and then instantly dismissed that thought as unworthy of + him. At any rate it was evident that his addressing her by her Christian + name in the last message had given no offence. This time she had not + called him “The Man-on-the-Hill,” and there was no suggestion of + playfulness in the note. Then the signature, “Yours, Zen”; that might mean + everything, or it might mean nothing. Either it was purely formal or it + implied a very great deal indeed. Grant reflected that it could hardly be + interpreted anywhere between those two extremes, and was it reasonable to + suppose that Zen would use it in an ENTIRELY formal sense? If it had been + “yours truly,” or “yours sincerely,” or any such stereotyped conclusion, + it would not have called for a second thought, but the simple word “yours”— + </p> + <p> + “If only she were,” thought Grant, and felt the color creeping to his face + at the thought. It was the first time he had dared that much. He had not + bothered to wonder much where or how this affair must end. Through all the + years that had passed since that night when she had fallen asleep on his + shoulder, and he had watched the ribbons of fire rising and falling in the + valley, and the smell of grass-smoke had been strong in his nostrils, + through all those years Zen had been to him a sweet, evasive memory to be + dreamed over and idealized, a wild, daring, irresponsible incarnation of + the spirit of the hills. Even in these last few days he had followed the + path simply because it lay before him. He had not sought her out in all + that great West; he had been content with his dream of the Zen of years + gone by; if Fate had brought him once more within the orbit of his star + surely Fate had a purpose in all its doings. One who has learned to + believe that no bullet will find him unless “his name and number are on + it” has little difficulty in excusing his own indiscretions by fatalistic + reasoning. + </p> + <p> + He wrote on the back of the note, “Look for me at eight,” and then, + observing that the boy had not brought teddy along, he inquired + solicitously for the health of the little pet. + </p> + <p> + “He’s all right, but mother wouldn’t let me bring him. Said I might lose + him.” The tone in which the last words were spoken implied just how + impossible such a thing was. Lose teddy! No one but a mother could think + such an absurdity. + </p> + <p> + “But I got a knife!” Wilson exclaimed, his mind darting to a happier + subject. “Daddy gave it to me. Will you sharpen it? It is as dull as a + pig.” + </p> + <p> + Grant was to learn during the day that all the boy’s figures of speech + were now hung on the family pig. The knife was as dull as a pig; the plow + was as rough as a pig; the horses, when they capered at a corner, were as + wild as a pig; even Grant himself, while he held the little chap firmly on + his knee, received the doubtful compliment of being as strong as a pig. He + went through the form of sharpening the knife on the leather lines of the + harness, and was pleased to discover that Wilson, with childish dexterity + of imagination, now pronounced it as sharp as a pig. + </p> + <p> + The boy did not return to the field in the afternoon, and Grant spent the + time in a strange admixture of happiness over the pleasant companionship + he had found in this little son of the prairies and anticipation of his + meeting with Zen that night. All his reflection had failed to suggest the + subject so interesting to her as to bring forth her unconventional note, + but it was enough for him that his presence was desired. As to the future—he + would deal with that when he came to it. As evening approached the horses + began their usual procedure of turning their heads homeward at the end of + each furrow. Beginning about five o’clock, they had a habit of assuming + that each furrow was obviously the last one for the day, and when the firm + hand on the lines brought them sharply back to position they trudged on + with an apologetic air which seemed to say that of course they were quite + willing to work another hour or two but they supposed their master would + want to be on his way home. Today, however, he surprised them, and the + first time they turned their heads he unhitched, and, throwing himself + lightly across Prince’s ample back, drove them to their stables. + </p> + <p> + Grant prepared his supper of bacon and eggs and fried potatoes, bread and + jam and black tea, and ate it from the kitchen table as was his habit + except on state occasions. Sometimes a touch of the absurdity of his + behavior would tickle his imagination—he, who might dine in the + midst of wealth and splendor, with soft lights beating down upon him, soft + music swelling through arching corridors, soft-handed waiters moving about + on deep, silent carpetings, perhaps round white shoulders across the table + and the faint smell of delicate perfumes—that he should prefer to + eat from the white oilcloth of his kitchen table was a riddle far beyond + any ordinary intellect. And yet he was happy in this life; happy in his + escape from the tragic routine of being decently civilized; happier, he + knew, than he ever could be among all the artificial pleasures that wealth + could buy him. Sometimes, as a concession to this absurdity, he would set + his table in the dining-room with his best dishes, and eat his silent meal + very grandly, until the ridiculousness of it all would overcome him and he + would jump up with a boyish whoop and sweep everything into the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + But to-night he had no time for make-belief. Supper ended, he put a basin + of water on the stove and went out to give his horses their evening + attention, after which he had a wash and a careful shave and dressed + himself in a light grey suit appropriate to an autumn evening. And then he + noticed that he had just time to walk to Transley’s house before eight + o’clock. + </p> + <p> + Zen received him at the door; the maid had gone to a neighbor’s, she said, + and Wilson was in bed. It was still bright outside, but the sheltered + living-room, to which she showed him, was wrapped in a soft twilight. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we have a lamp, or the fireplace?” she asked, then inferentially + answered by saying that a cool wind was blowing down from the mountains. + “I had the maid build the fire,” she continued, and he could see the + outline of her form bending over the grate. She struck a match; its glow + lit up her cheeks and hair; in a moment the dry wood was crackling and + ribbons of blue smoke were curling into the chimney. + </p> + <p> + “I have been so anxious to see you—again,” she said, drawing a chair + not far from his. “A chance remark of yours last night brought to memory + many things—things I have been trying to forget.” Then, abruptly, + “Did you ever kill a man?” + </p> + <p> + “You know I was in the war,” he returned, evading her question. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and you do not care to dwell on that phase of it. I should not have + asked you, but you will be the better able to understand. For years I have + lived under the cloud of having killed a man.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. The day of the fire—you remember?” + </p> + <p> + Grant had started from his chair. “I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed. + “There must have been justification!” + </p> + <p> + “YOU had justification at the Front, but it doesn’t make the memory + pleasant. I had justification, but it has haunted me night and day. And + then, last night you said he was still alive, and my soul seemed to rise + up again and say, ‘I am free!’” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Drazk.” + </p> + <p> + “DRAZK!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I thought I had killed him that day of the fire. It is rather an + unpleasant story, and you will excuse me repeating the details, I know. He + attacked me—we were both on horseback, in the river—I suppose + he was crazed with his wild deed, and less responsible than usual. He + dragged me from my horse and I fought with him in the water, but he was + much too strong. I had concluded that to drown myself, and perhaps him, + was the only way out, when I saw a leather thong floating in the water + from the saddle. By a ruse I managed to flip it around his neck, and the + next moment he was at my mercy. I had no mercy then. I understand how it + might be possible to kill prisoners. I pulled it tight, tight—pulled + till I saw his face blacken and his eyes stand out. He went down, but + still I pulled. And then after a little I found myself on shore. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it was the excitement of the fire that carried me on through + the day, but at night—you remember?—there came a reaction, and + I couldn’t keep awake. I suddenly seemed to feel that I was safe, and I + could sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Grant had resumed his seat. He was deeply moved by this strange + confidence; he bent his eyes intently upon her face, now shining in the + ruddy light from the fire-place. Her frank reference to the event that + night seemed to create a new bond between them; he knew now, if ever he + had doubted it, that Zen Transley had treasured that incident in her heart + even as he had treasured it. + </p> + <p> + “I was so embarrassed after the—the accident, you know,” she + continued. “I knew you must know I had been in the water. For days and + weeks I expected every hour to hear of the finding of the body. I expected + to hear the remark dropped casually by every new visitor at the ranch, + ‘Drazk’s body was found to-day in the river. The Mounted Police are + investigating.’ But time went on and nothing was heard of it. It would + almost have been a relief to me if it had been discovered. If I had + reported the affair at once, as I should have done, all would have been + different, but having kept my secret for a while I found it impossible to + confess it later. It was the first time I ever felt my self-reliance + severely shaken.... But what was his message, and why did you not tell me + before?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I attached no value to it; because I was, perhaps, a little + ashamed of it. I learned something of his weaknesses at the Front. + According to Drazk’s statement of it he won the war, and could as easily + win another, if occasion presented itself, so when he said, ‘If ever you + see Y.D.‘s daughter tell her I’m well; she’ll be glad to hear it,’ I put + it down to his usual boasting and thought no more about it. I thought he + was trying to impress me with the idea that you were interested in him, + which was a very absurd supposition, as I saw it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now you know,” she said, with a little laugh. “I’m glad it’s off my + mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course your husband knows?” + </p> + <p> + “No. That made it harder. I never told Frank.” + </p> + <p> + She arose and walked to the fire-place, pretending to stir the logs. When + she had seated herself again she continued. + </p> + <p> + “It has not been easy for me to tell all things to Frank. Don’t + misunderstand me; he has been a model husband, according to my standards.” + </p> + <p> + “According to your standards?” + </p> + <p> + “According to my standards—when I married him. If standards were + permanent I suppose happy matings would be less unusual. A young couple + must have something in common in order to respond at all to each other’s + attractions, but as they grow older they set up different standards, and + they drift apart.” + </p> + <p> + She paused, and Grant sat in silence, watching the glow of the firelight + upon her cheek. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you smoke?” she exclaimed, suddenly springing up. “Let me find + you some of Frank’s cigars.” + </p> + <p> + Grant protested that he smoked too much. She produced a box of cigars and + extended them to him. Then she held a match while he got his light. + </p> + <p> + “Your standards have changed?” said Grant, taking up the thread when she + had sat down again. + </p> + <p> + “They have. They have changed more than Frank’s, which makes me feel + rather at fault in the matter. How could he know that I would change my + ideal of what a husband should be?” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t he know? That is the course of development. Without + changing ideals there would be stagnation.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” she returned, and he thought he caught a note of weariness in + her voice. “But I don’t blame Frank—now. I rather blame him then. He + swept me off my feet; stampeded me. My parents helped him, and I was only + half disposed to resist. You see, I had this other matter on my mind, and + for the first time in my life I felt the need of protection. Besides, I + took a matter-of-fact view of marriage. I thought that sentiment—love, + if you like—was a thing of books, an invention of poets and fiction + writers. Practical people would be practical in their marriages, as in + their other undertakings. To marry Frank seemed a very practical course. + My father assured me that Frank had in him qualities of large success. He + would make money; he would be a prominent man in circles of those who do + things. These predictions he has fulfilled. Frank has been all I expected—then.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have changed your opinion of marriage—of the essentials of + marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “Do YOU need to ask that? I was beginning to see the light—beginning + to know myself—even before I married him, but I didn’t stop to + analyze. I plunged ahead, as I have always done, trusting not to get into + any position from which I could not find a way out. But there are some + positions from which there is no way out.” + </p> + <p> + Grant reflected that possibly his experience had been somewhat like hers + in that respect. He, too, had been following a path, unconcerned about its + end.... Possibly for him, too, there would be no way out. + </p> + <p> + “Frank has been all I expected of him,” she repeated, as though anxious to + do her husband justice. “He has made money. He spends it generously. If I + live here modestly, with but one maid, it is because of a preference which + I have developed for simplicity. I might have a dozen if I asked it, and I + think Frank is somewhat surprised, and, it may be, disappointed, that I + don’t ask it. Although not a man for display himself, he likes to see me + make display. It’s a strange thing, isn’t it, that a husband should wish + his wife to be admired by other men?” + </p> + <p> + “Some are successful in that,” Grant remarked. + </p> + <p> + “Some are more successful than they intend to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Frank, for instance?” he queried, pointedly. + </p> + <p> + “I have not sought any man’s admiration,” she went on, with her + astonishing frankness. “I am too independent for that. What do I care for + their admiration? But every woman wants love.” + </p> + <p> + Grant had changed his position, and sat with his elbows upon his knees, + his chin resting upon his hands. “You know, Zen,” he said, using her + Christian name deliberately, “the picture I drew that day by the river? + That is the picture I have carried in my mind ever since—shall carry + to the end. Perhaps it has led me to be imprudent—” + </p> + <p> + “Imprudent?” + </p> + <p> + “Has brought me here to-night, for example.” + </p> + <p> + “You had my invitation.” + </p> + <p> + “True. But why develop another situation which, as you say, has no way + out?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you want to go?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Zen, no! I want to stay—with you—always! But organized + society must respect its own conventions.” + </p> + <p> + She arose and stood by his chair, letting her hand fall beside his cheek. + </p> + <p> + “You silly boy!” she said. “You didn’t organize society, nor subscribe to + its conventions. Still, I suppose there must be a code of some kind, and + we shall respect it. You had your chance, Denny, and you passed it up.” + </p> + <p> + “Had my chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I refused you in words, I know, but actions speak louder—” + </p> + <p> + “But when you told me you were engaged what could I honorably do?” + </p> + <p> + “More—very much more—than you can do now. You could have shown + me my mistake. How much better to have learned it then, from you, than + later, by my own experience! You could have swept me off my feet, just as + Frank did. You did nothing. If I had sought evidence to prove how + impractical you are, as compared with my super-practical husband, I would + have found it in the way you handled, or rather failed to handle, that + situation.” + </p> + <p> + “What would your super-practical husband do now if he were in my + position?” he said, drawing her hands into his. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “You do! He says that any man worth his salt takes what he wants in this + world. Am I worth my salt?” + </p> + <p> + “There are different standards of value.... Goodness! how late it is! You + must go now, and don’t come back before, let us say, Wednesday.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + Whatever may have been Grant’s philosophy about the unwisdom of creating a + situation which had no way out he found himself looking forward + impatiently to Wednesday evening. An hour or two at Zen’s fireside + provided the social atmosphere which his bachelor life lacked, and as + Transley seemed unappreciative of his domestic privileges, remaining in + town unless his business brought him out to the summer home, it seemed + only a just arrangement that they should be shared by one who valued them + at their worth. + </p> + <p> + The Wednesday evening conversation developed further the understanding + that was gradually evolving between them, but it afforded no solution of + the problem which confronted them. Zen made no secret of the error she had + made in the selection of her husband, but had no suggestions to offer as + to what should be done about it. She seemed quite satisfied to enjoy + Grant’s conversation and company, and let it go at that—an + impossible situation, as the young man assured himself. She dismissed him + again at a quite respectable hour with some reference to Saturday evening, + which Grant interpreted as an invitation to call again at that time. + </p> + <p> + When he entered Saturday night it was evident that she had been expecting + him. A cool wind was again blowing down from the mountains, laden with the + soft smell of melting snow, and the fire in the grate was built ready for + the match. + </p> + <p> + “I am my own maid to-night,” she said, as she stooped to light it. “Sarah + usually goes to town Saturday evening. Now we shall see if someone is in + good humor.” + </p> + <p> + The fire curled up pleasantly about the wood. “There!” she exclaimed, + clapping her hands. “All is well. You see how economical I am; if we must + spend on fires we save on light. I love a wood fire; I suppose it is + something which reaches back to the original savage in all of us.” + </p> + <p> + “To the days when our great ancestors roasted their victims while they + danced about the coals,” said Grant, completing the picture. “And yet they + say that human nature doesn’t change.” + </p> + <p> + “Does it? I think our methods change with our environments, but that is + all. Wasn’t it you who propounded a theory about an age when men took what + they wanted by force giving way to an age in which they took what they + wanted by subtlety? Now, I believe, you want society to restrain the man + of clever wits just as it has learned to restrain the man of big biceps. + And when that is done will not man discover some other means of taking + what he wants?” + </p> + <p> + She had seated herself beside him on a divanette and the joy of her + nearness fired Grant with a very happy intoxication. It recalled that + night on the hillside when, as she had since said, she felt safe in his + protection. + </p> + <p> + “I am really very interested,” she continued. “I followed the argument at + the table on Sunday with as much concern as if it had been my pet hobby, + not yours, that was under discussion. If I said little it was because I + did not wish to appear too interested.” + </p> + <p> + Her amazing frankness brought Grant, figuratively, to his feet at every + turn. She seemed to have no desire to conceal her interest in him, her + attachment for him. Hers was such candor as might well be born of the vast + hillsides, the great valleys, the brooding silences of her girlhood. Yet + it seemed obvious that she must be less candid with Transley.... + </p> + <p> + “I am glad you were interested,” he answered. “I was afraid I was rather + boring the company, but it was MY scheme and I had to stand up for it. I + fear I made few converts.” + </p> + <p> + “You were dealing with practical men,” she returned, “and practical men + are never converted to a new idea. That is one of the things I have + learned in my years of married life, Dennison. Practical men find many + ways of turning an old idea to advantage, but they never evolve new ones. + New ideas come from dreamers—theoretical fellows like you.” + </p> + <p> + “The dreamer is always a lap ahead of the rest of civilization, and the + funny thing is that the rest always thinks itself much more sane than the + dreamer, out there blazing the way.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s not remarkable,” she replied. “That’s logical. The dreamer blazes + the way—proves the possibilities of his dream—and the + practical man follows it up and makes money out of it. To a practical man + there is nothing more practical than making money.” + </p> + <p> + “Did I convert you?” he pursued. + </p> + <p> + “I was not in need of conversion. I have been a follower of the new faith—an + imperfect and limping follower, it is true—ever since you first + announced it.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you are laughing at me.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly not! I have been brought up in an environment where there is no + standard higher than the money standard. Not that my father or husband are + dishonest; they are rigidly honest according to their ideas of honesty. + But to say that a man must give actual service for every dollar he gets or + it isn’t his—that is a conception of honesty so far beyond them as + to be an absurdity. But I have wanted to ask you how you are going to + enforce this new idealism.” + </p> + <p> + “Idealism is not enforced. We aspire to it; we may not attain to it. + Christianity itself is idealism—the idealism of unselfishness. That + ideal has never been attained by any considerable number of people, and + yet it has drawn all humanity on to somewhat higher levels as surely as + the moon draws the tide. Superficial persons in these days are drawing + pictures of the failure of Christianity, which has failed in part; but + they could find a much more depressing subject by painting a world from + which all Christian idealism had been removed.” + </p> + <p> + “But surely you have some plan for putting your theories to the test—some + plan which will force those to whom idealism appeals in vain. We do not + trust to a man’s idealism to keep him from stealing; we put him in jail.” + </p> + <p> + “All that will come in time, but the question for the seeker after truth + is not ‘Will it work?’ but ‘Is it true?’ I fancy I can see the practical + men of Moses’ time leaning over his shoulder as he inscribed the Ten + Commandments and remarking ‘No use of putting that down, Moses; you can + never enforce it.’ But Moses put it down and left the enforcement to + natural law and the growing intelligence of the generations which have + followed him. We are too much disposed to think it possible to evade a + law; to violate it, and escape punishment; but if a law is true, + punishment follows violation as implacably as the stars follow their + courses. And if society has failed to recognize the law that service, and + service only, should be able to command service in return, society must + suffer the penalty. We have only to look about us to see that society is + paying in full for its violations. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have plans, and I think they would work, but the first thing is + the ideal—the new moral sense—that value must not be accepted + without giving equal value in return. Society, of course, will have to set + up the standards of value. That is a matter of detail—a matter for + the practical men who come in the wake of the idealist. But of this I am + certain—and I hark back to my old theme—that just as society + has found a means of preventing the man who is physically superior from + taking wealth without giving service in return, so must society find a + means to prevent men who are mentally superior from taking wealth without + giving service in return. The superior person, mark you, will still have + an advantage, in that his superiority will enable him to EARN more; we + shall merely stop him taking what he does not earn. That must come. I + think it will come soon. It is the next step in the social evolution of + the race.” + </p> + <p> + She had drunk in his argument as one who hangs on every word, and her + wrapt face turned toward his seemed to glow and thrill him in return with + a sense of their spiritual oneness. She did not need to tell him that + Transley never talked to her like this. Transley loved her, if he loved + her at all, for the glory she reflected upon him; he was proud of her + beauty, of her daring, of her physical charm and self-reliance. The deeper + side of her mental life was to Transley a field unexplored; a field of the + very existence of which he was probably unaware. Grant looked into her + eyes, now close and responsive, and found within their depths something + which sent him to his feet. + </p> + <p> + “Zen!” he exclaimed. “The mystery of life is too much for me. Surely there + must be an answer somewhere! Surely the puzzle has a system to it—a + key which may some day be found! Or can it be just chaos—just blind, + driveling, senseless chaos? In our own lives, why should we be stranded, + helpless, wrecked, with the happiness which might have been ours hung just + beyond our reach? Is there no answer to this?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose we disobeyed the law, back in those old days. We heard it + clearly enough, and we disobeyed. I allowed myself to be guided by motives + which were not the highest; you seemed to lack the enterprise which would + have won you its own reward. And as you have said, those who violate the + law must suffer for it. I have suffered.” + </p> + <p> + She drew up her chin; he could see the firm muscles set beneath the pink + bloom of her flesh.... He had not thought of Zen suffering; all his + thought of her had been very grateful to his vanity, but he had not + thought of her suffering. He extended his hands and took hers within them. + </p> + <p> + “I have sometimes wondered,” he said, “why there is no second chance; why + one cannot wipe the slate clear of everything that has been and start + anew. What a world this might be!” + </p> + <p> + “Would it be any better? Or would we go on making our mistakes over again? + That seems to be the only way we learn.” + </p> + <p> + “But a second chance; the idea seems so fair, so plausible. Suppose you + are shooting on the ranges, for instance; you are allowed a shot or two to + find your nerve, to get your distance, to settle yourself to the business + in hand. But in this business of life you fire, and if some distraction, + some momentary influence or folly sends your aim wild, the shot is gone + and you are left with all the years that follow to think about it. You can + do nothing but think about it—the most profitless of all + occupations.” + </p> + <p> + “For you there is a second chance,” she reminded him. “You must have + thought of that.” + </p> + <p> + “No—no second chance.” + </p> + <p> + She drew herself up slightly and away from him. “I have been very frank + with you, Dennison,” she said. “Suppose you try being frank with me?” + </p> + <p> + In her eyes was still the fire of Zen of the Y.D., a woman unconquered and + unconquerable. She gave the impression that she accepted the buffetings of + life, but no one forced them upon her. She had erred; she would suffer. + That was fair; she accepted that. But as Grant gazed on her face, tilted + still in some of its old-time recklessness and defiance, he knew that the + day would come when she would say that her cup was full, and, throwing it + to the winds, would start life over, if there can be such a thing as + starting life over. And something in her manner told him that day was + very, very near. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said, “I will be frank. Fate HAS brought within my orbit a + second chance, or what would have been a second chance had my heart not + been so full of you. She was a girl well worth thinking about. When an + employee introduces herself to you with a declaration of independence you + may know that you have met with someone out of the ordinary. I am not + speaking of these days of labor scarcity; it takes no great moral quality + to be independent when you have the whip-hand. But in the days before the + war, with two applicants for every position, a girl who valued her freedom + of spirit more than her job—more than even a very good job—was + a girl to think about.” + </p> + <p> + “And you thought about her?” + </p> + <p> + “I did. I was sick of the cringing and fawning of which my wealth made me + the object; I loathed the deference paid me, because I knew it was paid, + not to me, but to my money—I was homesick to hear someone tell me to + go to hell. I wanted to brush up against that spirit which says it is as + good as anybody else—against the manliness which stands its ground + and hits back. I found that spirit in Phyllis Bruce.” + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis Bruce—rather a nice name. But are the men and women of the + East so—so servile as you suggest?” + </p> + <p> + “No! That is where I was mistaken. Generations of environment had merely + trained them into docility of habit. Underneath they are red-blooded + through and through. The war showed us that. Zen—the proudest moment + of my life—except one—was when a kid in the office who + couldn’t come into my room without trembling jumped up and said ‘We WILL + win!’—and called me Grant! Think of that! Poor chap.... What was I + saying? Oh, yes; Phyllis. I grew to like her—very much—but I + couldn’t marry her. You know why.” + </p> + <p> + Zen was looking into the fire with unseeing eyes. “I am not sure that I + know why,” she said at length. “You couldn’t marry me. It was your second + chance. You should have taken it.” + </p> + <p> + “Would that be playing the game fairly—with her?” + </p> + <p> + She rested her fingers lightly on the back of his hand, extending them + gently down until they fell between his own. + </p> + <p> + “Denny, you big, big boy!” she murmured. “Do you suppose every man marries + his first choice?” + </p> + <p> + “It has always seemed to me that a second choice is a makeshift. It + doesn’t seem quite square—” + </p> + <p> + “No. I fancy some second choices are really first choices. Wisdom comes + with experience, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Not always. At any rate I couldn’t marry her while my heart was yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose not,” she answered, and again he noted a touch of weariness in + her voice. “I know something of what divided affection—if one can + even say it is divided—means. Denny, I will make a confession. I + knew you would come back; I always was sure you would come back. ‘Then,’ I + said to myself, ‘I will see this man Grant as he is, and the reality will + clear my brain of all this idealism which I have woven about him.’ Perhaps + you know what I mean. We sometimes meet people who impress us greatly at + the time, but a second meeting, perhaps years later, has a very different + effect. It sweeps all the idealism away, and we wonder what it was that + could have charmed us so. Well—I hoped—I really hoped for some + experience like that with you. If only I could meet you again and find + that, after all, you were just like other men; self-centred, arrogant, + kind, perhaps, but quite superior—if I could only find THAT to be + true then the mirage in which I have lived for all these years would be + swept away and my old philosophy that after all it doesn’t matter much + whom one marries so long as he is respectable and gives her a good living + would be vindicated. And so I have encouraged you to come here; I have + been most unconventional, I know, but I was always that—I have + cultivated your acquaintance, and, Denny, I am SO disappointed!” + </p> + <p> + “Disappointed? Then the mirage HAS cleared away?” + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, it grows more distorted every day. I see you towering + above all your fellow humans; reaching up into a heaven so far above them + that they don’t even know of its existence. I see you as really The + Man-On-the-Hill, with a vision which lays all this selfish, commonplace + world at your feet. The idealism which I thought must fade away is + justified—heightened—by the reality.” + </p> + <p> + She had turned her face to him, and Grant, little as he understood the + ways of women, knew that she had made her great confession. For a moment + he held himself in check.... then from somewhere in his subconsciousness + came ringing the phrase, “Every man worth his salt.... takes what he + wants.” That was Transley’s morality; Transley, the Usurper, who had + bullied himself into possession of this heart which he had never won and + could never hold; Transley, the fool, frittering his days and nights with + money! He seized her in his arms, crushing down her weak resistance; he + drew her to him until, as in that day by a foothill river somewhere in the + sunny past, her lips met his and returned their caress. He cared now for + nothing—nothing in the whole world but this quivering womanhood + within his arms.... + </p> + <p> + “You must go,” she whispered at length. “It is late, and Frank’s habits + are somewhat erratic.” + </p> + <p> + He held her at arm’s length, his hands upon her shoulders. “Do you suppose + that fear—of anything—can make me surrender you now?” + </p> + <p> + “Not fear, perhaps—I know it could not be fear—but good sense + may do it. It was not fear that made me send you home early from your + previous calls. It was discretion.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” he said, a new light dawning, and he marvelled again at her + consummate artistry. + </p> + <p> + “But I must tell you,” she resumed, “Frank leaves on a business trip + to-morrow night. He will be gone for some time, and I shall motor into + town to see him off. I am wondering about Wilson,” she hurried on, as + though not daring to weigh her words; “Sarah will be away—I am + letting her have a little holiday—and I can’t take Wilson into town + with me because it will be so late.” Then, with a burst of confession she + spoke more deliberately. “That isn’t exactly the reason, Dennison; Frank + doesn’t know I have let Sarah go, and I—I can’t explain.” + </p> + <p> + Her face shone pink and warm in the glow of the firelight, and as the + significance of her words sank in upon him Grant marvelled at that + wizardry of the gods which could bring such homage to the foot of man. A + tenderness such as he had never known suffused him; her very presence was + holy. + </p> + <p> + “Bring the boy over and let him spend the night with me. We are great + chums and we shall get along splendidly.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + Grant spent his Sunday forenoon in an exhaustive house-cleaning campaign. + Bachelor life on the farm is not conducive to domestic delicacy, and + although Grant had never abandoned the fundamentals he had allowed his + interpretation of essential cleanliness to become somewhat liberal. The + result was that the day of rest usually confronted him with a considerable + array of unwashed pots and pans and other culinary utensils. To-day, while + the tawny autumn hills seemed to fairly heave and sigh with contentment + under a splendor of opalescent sunshine, he scoured the contents of his + kitchen until they shone; washed the floor; shook the rugs from the + living-room and swept the corners, even behind the gramophone; cleared the + ashes from the hearth and generally set his house in order, for was not + she to call upon him that evening on her way to town, and was not little + Wilson—he of the high adventures with teddy-bear and knife and pig—to + spend the night with him? + </p> + <p> + When he was able to view his handiwork with a feeling that even feminine + eyes would find nothing to offend, Grant did an unwonted thing. He + unlocked the whim-room and opened the windows that the fresh air might + play through the silent chamber. To the west the mountains looked down in + sombre placidity as they had looked down every bright autumn morning since + the dawn of time, their shoulders bathed in purple mist and their + snow-crowned summits shining in the sun. For a long time Grant stood + drinking in the scene; the fertile valley lying with its square farms like + a checker-board of the gods, with its round little lakes beating back the + white sunshine like coins from the currency of the Creator; the ruddy + copper-colored patches of ripe wheat, and drowsy herds motionless upon the + receding hills; the blue-green ribbon of river with its yellow fringes of + cottonwood and bluffs of forbidding spruce, and behind and over all the + silent, majestic mountains. It was a sight to make the soul of man rise up + and say, “I know I stand on the heights of the Eternal!” Then as his eyes + followed the course of the river Grant picked out a column of thin blue + smoke, and knew that Zen was cooking her Sunday dinner. + </p> + <p> + The thought turned him to his dusting of the whim-room, and afterwards to + his own kitchen. When he had lunched and dressed he took a stroll over the + hills, thinking a great deal, but finding no answer. On his return he + descried the familiar figure of Linder in a semi-recumbent position on the + porch, and Linder’s well-worn car in the yard. + </p> + <p> + “How goes it, Linder?” he said, cheerily, as he came up. “Is the Big Idea + going to fructify?” + </p> + <p> + “The Big Idea seems to be all right. You planned it well.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. But is it going to be self-supporting—I mean in the matter + of motive power. Would it run if you and I and Murdoch were wiped out?” + </p> + <p> + “Everything must have a head.” + </p> + <p> + “Democracy must find its own head—must grow it out of the materials + supplied. If it doesn’t do that it’s a failure, and the Big Idea will end + in being the Big Fizzle. That’s why I’m leaving it so severely alone—I + want to see which way it’s headed.” + </p> + <p> + “I could suggest another reason,” said Linder, pointedly. + </p> + <p> + “Another reason for what?” + </p> + <p> + “For your leaving it so severely alone.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you driving at?” demanded Grant, somewhat petulantly. “You are + in a taciturn mood to-day, Linder.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps I am, Grant, and if so it comes from wondering how a man with as + much brains as you have can be such a damned fool upon occasion.” + </p> + <p> + “Drop the riddles, Linder. Let me have it in the face.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s just like this, Grant, old boy,” said Linder, getting up and putting + his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I feel that I still have an interest + in the chap who saved all of me except what this empty sleeve stands for, + and it’s that interest which makes me speak about something which you may + say is none of my business. I was out here Monday night to see you, and + you were not at home. I came out again Wednesday, and you were not at + home. I came last night and you were not at home, and had not come back at + midnight. Your horses were in the barn; you were not far away.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you telephone me?” + </p> + <p> + “If I hadn’t cared more for you than I do for my job and the Big Idea + thrown in I could have settled it that way. But, Grant, I do.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe you. But why this sudden worry over me? I was merely spending + the evening at a neighbor’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—at Transley’s. Transley was in town, and Mrs. Transley is—not + responsible—where you are concerned.” + </p> + <p> + “Linder!” + </p> + <p> + “I saw it all that night at dinner there. Some things are plain to + everyone—except those most involved. Now it’s not my job to say to + you what’s right and wrong, but the way it looks to me is this: what’s the + use of setting up a new code of morality about money which concerns, after + all, only some of us, if you’re going to knock down those things which + concern all of us?” + </p> + <p> + Grant regarded his foreman for some time without answering. “I appreciate + your frankness, Linder,” he said at length. “Your friendship, which I can + never question, gives you that privilege. Man to man, I’m going to be + equally frank with you. To begin with, I suppose you will admit that + Y.D.‘s daughter is a strong character, a woman quite capable of directing + her own affairs?” + </p> + <p> + “The stronger the engine the bigger the smash if there’s a wreck.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s not a case of wrecking; it’s a case of trying to save something out + of the wreck. Convention, Linder, is a torture-monger; it binds men and + women to the stake of propriety and bids them smile while it snuffs out + all the soul that’s in them. We have pitted ourselves against convention + in economic affairs; shall we not—” + </p> + <p> + “No! It was pure unselfishness which led you into the Big Idea. That isn’t + what’s leading you now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let me put it another way. Transley is a clever man of affairs. He + knows how to accomplish his ends. He applied the methods—somewhat + modified for the occasion—of a landshark in winning his wife. He + makes a great appearance of unselfishness, but in reality he is selfish to + the core. He lavishes money on her to satisfy his own vanity, but as for + her finer nature, the real Zen, her soul if you like—he doesn’t even + know she has one. He obtained possession by false pretences. Which is the + more moral thing—to leave him in possession, or to throw him out? + Didn’t you yourself hear him say that men who are worth their salt take + what they want?” + </p> + <p> + “Since when did you let him set YOUR standards?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s hardly fair.” + </p> + <p> + “I think it is. I think, too, that you are arguing against your own + convictions. Well, I’ve had my say. I deliberately came out to-day without + Murdoch so that I might have it. You would be quite justified in firing me + for what I’ve done. But now I’m through, and no matter what may happen, + remember, Linder will never have suspected anything.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s like you, old chap. We’ll drop it at that, but I must explain that + Zen is going to town to-night to meet Transley, and is leaving the boy + with me. It is an event in my young life, and I have house-cleaned for it + appropriately. Come inside and admire my handiwork.” + </p> + <p> + Linder admired as he was directed, and then the two men fell into a + discussion of business matters. Eventually Grant cooked supper, and just + as they had finished Mrs. Transley drove up in her motor. + </p> + <p> + “Here we are!” she cried, cheerily. “Glad to see you, Mr. Linder. Wilson + has his teddy-bear and his knife and his pyjamas, and is a little put out, + I think, that I wouldn’t let him bring the pig.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall try and make up the deficiency,” said Grant, smiling broadly, as + the boy climbed to his shoulder. “Won’t you come in? Linder, among his + other accomplishments learned in France, is an excellent chaperon.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, no; I must get along. I shall call early in the morning, so + that you will not be delayed on Wilson’s account.” + </p> + <p> + “No need of that; he can ride to the field with me on Prince. He is a + great help with the plowing.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m sure.” She stepped up to Grant and drew the boy’s face down to hers. + “Good-bye, dear; be a good boy,” she whispered, and Wilson waved kisses to + her as the motor sped down the road. + </p> + <p> + Linder took his departure soon after, and Grant was surprised to find + himself almost embarrassed in the presence of his little guest. The + embarrassment, however, was all on his side. Wilson was greatly interested + in the strange things in the house, and investigated them with the + romantic thoroughness of his years. Grant placed a collection of war + trophies that had no more fight in them at the child’s disposal, and he + played about until it was time to go to bed. + </p> + <p> + Where to start on the bedtime preparations was a puzzle, but Wilson + himself came to Grant’s aid with explicit instructions about buttons and + pins. Grant fervently hoped the boy would be able to reverse the process + in the morning, otherwise— + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, with a little dexterous movement, the child divested himself of + all his clothing, and rushed into a far corner. + </p> + <p> + “You have to catch me now,” he shouted in high glee. “One, two—” + </p> + <p> + Evidently it was a game, and Grant entered into the spirit of it, finally + running Wilson to earth on the farthest corner of the kitchen table. To + adjust the pyjamas was, as Grant confessed, a bigger job than harnessing a + four-horse team, but at length it was completed. + </p> + <p> + “You must hear my prayer, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill,” said the boy. “You have + to sit down in a chair.” + </p> + <p> + Grant sat down and with a strange mixture of emotions drew the little chap + between his knees as he listened to the long-forgotten prattle. He felt + his fingers running through Wilson’s hair as other fingers, now long, long + turned to dust, had once run through his.... + </p> + <p> + At the third line the boy stopped. “You have to tell me now,” he prompted. + </p> + <p> + “But I can’t, Willie; I have forgotten.” + </p> + <p> + “Huh, you don’t know much,” the child commented, and glibly quoted the + remaining lines. “And God bless Daddy and Mamma and teddy-bear and Uncle + Man-on-the-Hill and the pig. Amen,” he concluded, accompanying the last + word with a jump which landed him fairly in Grant’s lap. His little arms + went up about his friend’s neck, and his little soft cheek rested against + a tanned and weather-beaten one. Slowly Grant’s arms closed about the + warm, lithe body and pressed it to his in a new passion, strange and holy. + Then he led him to the whim-room, turned down the white sheets in which no + form had ever lain and placed the boy between them, snuggled his teddy + down by his side and set his knife properly in view upon the dresser. And + then he leaned down again and kissed the little face, and whispered, “Good + night, little boy; God keep you safe to-night, and always.” And suddenly + Grant realized that he had been praying.... + </p> + <p> + He withdrew softly, and only partly closed the door; then he chose a seat + where he could see the little figure lying peacefully on the white bed. + The last shafts of the setting sun were falling in amber wedges across the + room. He picked up a book, thinking to read, but he could not keep his + attention on the page; he found his mind wandering back into the + long-forgotten chambers of its beginning, conjuring up from the faint + recollections of infancy visions of the mother he had hardly known.... + After a while he tip-toed to the whim-room door and found that Wilson, + with his arms firmly clasped about his teddy-bear, was deep in the sleep + of childhood. + </p> + <p> + “The dear little chap,” he murmured. “I must watch by him to-night. It + would be unspeakable if anything should happen him while he is under my + care.” + </p> + <p> + He felt a sense of warmth, almost a smothering sensation, and raised his + hand to his forehead. It came down covered with perspiration. + </p> + <p> + “It’s amazingly close,” he said, and walked to one of the French windows + opening to the west. The sun had gone down, and a brooding darkness lay + over all the valley, but far up in the sky he could trace the outline of a + cloud. Above, the stars shone with an unwonted brightness, but below all + was a bank of blue-black darkness. The air was intensely still; in the + silence he could hear the wash of the river. Grant reflected that never + before had he heard the wash of the river at that distance. + </p> + <p> + “Looks like a storm,” he commented, casually, and suddenly felt something + tighten about his heart. The storms of the foothill country, which + occasionally sweep out of the mountains and down the valleys on the + shortest notice, had no terror for him; he had sat on horseback under an + oilskin slicker through the worst of them; but to-night! Even as he + watched, the distant glare of lightning threw the heaving proportions of + the thundercloud into sharp relief. + </p> + <p> + He turned to his chair, but found himself pacing the living-room with an + altogether inexplicable nervousness. He had held the line many a bad night + at the Front while Death spat out of the darkness on every hand; he had + smoked in the faces of his men to cover his own fear and to shame them out + of theirs; he had run the whole gamut of the emotion of the trenches, but + tonight something more awesome than any engine of man was gathering its + forces in the deep valleys. He shook himself to throw off the morbidness + that was settling upon him; he laughed, and the echo came back haunting + from the silent corners of the house. Then he lit a lamp and set it, + burning low, in the whim-room, and noted that the boy slept on, all + unconcerned. + </p> + <p> + “Damn Linder, anyway!” he exclaimed presently. “I believe he shook me up + more than I realized. He charged me with insincerity; me, who have always + made sincerity my special virtue.... Well, there may be something in it.” + </p> + <p> + A faint, indistinct growling, as of the grinding of mighty rocks, came + down from the distances. + </p> + <p> + “The storm will be nothing,” he assured himself. “A gust of wind; a + spatter of rain; perhaps a dash of hail; then, of a sudden, a sky so calm + and peaceful one would wonder how it ever could have been disturbed.” Even + as he spoke the house shivered in every timber as the gale struck it and + went whining by. + </p> + <p> + He rushed to the whim-room, but found the boy still sleeping soundly. “I + must stay up,” he reasoned with himself; “I must be on hand in case he + should be frightened.” + </p> + <p> + Suddenly it occurred to Grant that, quite apart from his love for Wilson, + if anything should happen the child in his house a very difficult + situation would be created. Transley would demand explanations—explanations + which would be hard to make. Why was Wilson there at all? Why was he not + at home with Sarah? Sarah away from home! Why had Zen kept that a + secret?... How long had this thing been going on, anyway? Grant feared + neither Transley nor any other man, and yet there was something akin to + fear in his heart as he thought of these possibilities. He would be held + accountable—doubly accountable—if anything happened the child. + Even though it were something quite beyond his control; lightning, for + example— + </p> + <p> + The gale subsided as quickly as it had come, and the sudden silence which + followed was even more awesome. It lasted only for a moment; a flash of + lightning lit up every corner of the house, bursting like white fire from + every wall and ceiling. Grant rushed to the whim-room and was standing + over the child when the crash of thunder came upon them. The boy stirred + gently, smiled, and settled back to his sleep. + </p> + <p> + Grant drew the blinds in the whim-room, and went out to draw them in the + living-room, but the sight across the valley was of a majesty so terrific + that it held him fascinated. The play of the lightning was incessant, and + with every flash the little lakes shot back their white reflection, and + distant farm window-panes seemed heliographing to each other through the + night. As yet there was no rain, but a dense wall of cloud pressed down + from the west, and the farther hills were hidden even in the brightest + flashes. + </p> + <p> + Turning from the windows, Grant left the blinds open. “Only cowardice + would close them,” he muttered to himself, “and surely, in addition to the + other qualities Linder has attributed to me, I am not a coward. If it were + not for Willie I could stand and enjoy it.” + </p> + <p> + Presently rain began to fall; a few scattered drops at first, then + thicker, harder, until the roof and windows rattled and shook with their + force. The wind, which had gone down so suddenly, sprang up again, + buffeting the house as it rushed by with the storm. Grant stood in the + whim-room, in the dim light of the lamp turned low, and watched the steady + breathing of his little guest with as much anxiety as if some dread + disease threatened him. For the first time in his life there came into + Grant’s consciousness some sense of the price which parents pay in the + rearing of little children. He thought of all the hours of sickness, of + all the childish hurts and dangers, and suddenly he found himself thinking + of his father with a tenderness which was strange and new to him. + Doubtless under even that stern veneer of business interest had beat a + heart which, many a time, had tightened in the grip of fear for young + Dennison. + </p> + <p> + As the night wore on the storm, instead of spending itself quickly as + Grant had expected, continued unabated, but his nervous tension gradually + relaxed, and when at length Wilson was awakened by an exceptionally loud + clap of thunder he took the boy in his arms and soothed his little fears + as a mother might have done. They sat for a long while in a big chair in + the living-room, and exchanged such confidences as a man may with a child + of five. After the lad had dropped back into sleep Grant still sat with + him in his arms, thinking.... + </p> + <p> + And what he thought was this: He was a long while framing the exact + thought; he tried to beat it back in a dozen ways, but it circled around + him, gradually closed in upon him and forced its acceptance. “Linder + called me a fool, and he was right. He might have called me a coward, and + again he would have been right. Linder was right.” + </p> + <p> + Some way it seemed easy to reach that conclusion while this little + sleeping form lay in his arms. Perhaps it had quickened into life that + ennobling spirit of parenthood which is all sacrifice and love and + self-renunciation. The ends which seemed so all-desirable a few hours ago + now seemed sordid and mean and unimportant. Reaching out for some means of + self-justification Grant turned to the Big Idea; that was his; that was + big and generous and noble. But after all, was it his? The idea had come + in upon him from some outside source—as perhaps all ideas do; struck + him like a bullet; swept him along. He was merely the agency employed in + putting it into effect. It had cost him nothing. He was doing that for + society. Now was the time to do something that would cost; to lay his hand + upon the prize and then relinquish it—for the sake of Wilson + Transley! + </p> + <p> + “And by God I’ll do it!” he exclaimed, springing to his feet. He carried + the child back to his bed, and then turned again to watch the storm + through the windows. It seemed to be subsiding; the lightning, although + still almost continuous, was not so near. The air was cooling off and the + rain was falling more steadily, without the gusts and splatters which + marked the storm in its early stages. And as he looked out over the black + valley, lighted again and again by the glare of heaven’s artillery, Grant + became conscious of a deep, mysterious sense of peace. It was as though + his soul, like the elements about him, caught in a paroxysm of elemental + passion, had been swept clean and pure in the fire of its own upheaval. + </p> + <p> + “What little incidents turn our lives!” he thought. “That boy; in some + strange way he has been the means of bringing me to see things as they are—which + not even Linder could do. The mind has to be fertilized for the thought, + or it can’t think it. He brought the necessary influence to bear. It was + like the night at Murdoch’s house, the night when the Big Idea was born. + Surely I owe that to Murdoch, and his wife, and Phyllis Bruce.” + </p> + <p> + The name of Phyllis Bruce came to him with almost a shock. He had been so + occupied with his farm and with Zen that he had thought but little of her + of late. As he turned the matter over in his mind now he felt that he had + used Phyllis rather shabbily. He recalled having told Murdoch to send for + her, but that was purely a business transaction. Yet he felt that he had + never entirely forgotten her, and he was surprised to find how tenderly + the memory of her welled up within him. Zen’s vision had been clearer than + his; she had recognized in Phyllis Bruce a party to his life’s drama. “The + second choice may be really the first,” she had said. + </p> + <p> + Grant lit a cigar and sat down to smoke and think. The matter of Phyllis + needed prompt settlement. It afforded a means to burn his bridges behind + him, and Grant felt that it would be just as well to cut off all + possibility of retreat. Fortunately the situation was one that could be + explained—to Phyllis. He had come out West again to be sure of + himself; he was sure now; would she be his wife? He had never thought that + line out to a conclusion before, but now it proved a subject very + delightful to contemplate. + </p> + <p> + He had told himself, back in those days in the East, that it would not be + fair to marry Phyllis Bruce while his heart was another’s. He had believed + that then; now he knew the real reason was that he had allowed himself to + hope, against all reason, that Zen Transley might yet be his. He had + harbored an unworthy desire, and called it a virtue. Well—the die + was cast. He had definitely given Zen up. He would tell Phyllis + everything.... That is, everything she needed to know. + </p> + <p> + It would be best to settle it at once—the sooner the better. He went + to his desk and took out a telegraph blank. He addressed it to Phyllis, + pondered a minute in a great hush in the storm, and wrote, + </p> + <p> + “I am sure now. May I come? Dennison.” + </p> + <p> + This done he turned to the telephone, hurrying as one who fears for the + duration of his good resolutions. It was a chance if the line was not out + of business, but he lifted the receiver and listened to the thump of his + heart as he waited. + </p> + <p> + Presently came a voice as calm and still as though it spoke from another + world, “Number?” + </p> + <p> + He gave the number of Linder’s rooms in town; it was likely Linder had + remained in town, but it was a question whether the telephone bell would + waken him. He had recollections of Linder as a sound sleeper. But even as + this possibility entered his mind he heard Linder’s phlegmatic voice in + his ear. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Linder! I’m so glad I got you. Rush this message to Phyllis Bruce.... + Linder?... Linder!” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. Nothing but a hollow, empty sound on the wire, as + though it led merely into the universe in general. He tried to call the + operator, but without success. The wire was down. + </p> + <p> + He turned from it with a sense of acute impatience. Was this an omen of + obstacles to bar him now from Phyllis Bruce? He had a wild thought of + saddling a horse and riding to town, but at that moment the storm came + down afresh. Besides, there was the boy. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly came a quick knock at the door; the handle turned, and a + drenched, hatless figure, with disheveled, wet hair, and white, drawn face + burst in upon him. It was Zen Transley. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + “Zen!” + </p> + <p> + “How is he—how is Wilson?” she demanded, breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Sound as a bell,” he answered, alarmed by her manner. The self-assured + Zen was far from self-assurance now. “Come, see, he is asleep.” + </p> + <p> + He led her into the whim-room and turned up the lamp. The lad was sleeping + soundly, his teddy-bear clasped in his arms, his little pink and white + face serene under the magic skies of slumberland. Grant expected that Zen + would throw herself upon the child in her agitation, but she did not. She + drew her fingers gently across his brow, then, turning to Grant, + </p> + <p> + “Rather an unceremonious way to break into your house,” she said, with a + little laugh. “I hope you will pardon me.... I was uneasy about Wilson.” + </p> + <p> + “But tell me—how—where did you come from?” + </p> + <p> + “From town. Let me stand in your kitchen, or somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re wet through. I can’t offer you much change.” + </p> + <p> + “Not as wet as when you first met me, Dennison,” she said, with a smile. + “I have a good waterproof, but my hat blew off. It’s somewhere on the + road. I couldn’t see through the windshield, so I put my head out, and + away it went.” + </p> + <p> + “The hat?” + </p> + <p> + Then both laughed, and an atmosphere that had been tense began to settle + back to normal. Grant led her out to the living-room, removed her coat, + and started a fire. + </p> + <p> + “So you drove out over those roads?” he said, when the smoke began to curl + up around the logs. “You had your courage.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t courage, Dennison; it was terror. Fear sometimes makes one + wonderfully brave. After I saw Frank off I went to the hotel. I had a room + on the west side, and instead of going to bed I sat by the window looking + out at the storm and at the wet streets. I could see the flashes of + lightning striking down as though they were aimed at definite objects, and + I began to think of Wilson, and of you. You see, it was the first night I + had ever spent away from him, and I began to think.... + </p> + <p> + “After a while I could bear it no longer, and I rushed down and out to the + garage. There was just one young man on night duty, and I’m sure he + thought me crazy. When he couldn’t dissuade me he wanted to send a driver + with me. You know I couldn’t have that.” + </p> + <p> + She was looking squarely at him, her face strangely calm and emotionless. + Grant nodded that he followed her reasoning. + </p> + <p> + “So here I am,” she continued. “No doubt you think me silly, too. You are + not a mother.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I understand,” he answered, tenderly. “I think I do.” + </p> + <p> + They sat in silence for some time, and presently they became aware of a + grey light displacing the yellow glow from the lamp and the ruddy + reflections of the fire. “It is morning,” said Grant. “I believe the storm + has cleared.” + </p> + <p> + He stood beside her chair and took her hand in his. “Let us watch the dawn + break on the mountains,” he said, and together they moved to the windows + that overlooked the valley and the grim ranges beyond. Already shafts of + crimson light were firing the scattered drift of clouds far overhead.... + </p> + <p> + “Dennison,” she said at length, turning her face to his, “I hope you will + understand, but—I have thought it all over. I have not hidden my + heart from you. For the boy’s sake, and for your sake, and for the sake of + ‘a scrap of paper’—that was what the war was over, wasn’t it?—” + </p> + <p> + “I know,” he whispered. “I know.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have been thinking, too?... I am so glad!” In the growing light + he could see the moisture in her bright eyes glisten, and it seemed to him + this wild, daring daughter of the hills had never been lovelier than in + this moment of confession and of high resolve. + </p> + <p> + “I am so glad,” she repeated, “for your sake—and for my own. Now, + again, you are really the Man-on-the-Hill. We have been in the valley of + late. You can go ahead now with your high plans, with your Big Idea. You + will marry Miss Bruce, and forget.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall remember with chastened memory, but I shall never forget,” he + said at length. “I shall never forget Zen of the Y.D. And you—what + will you do?” + </p> + <p> + “I have the boy. I did not realize how much I had until to-night. Suddenly + it came upon me that he was everything. You won’t understand, Dennison, + but as we grow older our hearts wrap up around our children with a love + quite different from that which expresses itself in marriage. This love + gives—gives—gives, lavishly, unselfishly, asking nothing in + return.” + </p> + <p> + “I think I understand,” he said again. “I think I do.” + </p> + <p> + They turned their eyes to the mountains, and as they looked the first + shafts of sunlight fell on the white peaks and set them dazzling like + mighty diamond-points against the blue bosom of the West. Slowly the flood + of light poured down their mighty sides and melted the mauve shadows of + the valley. Suddenly a ray of the morning splendor shot through the little + window in the eastern wall of the living-room and fell fairly upon the + woman’s head, crowning her like a halo of the Madonna. + </p> + <p> + “It is morning on the mountains—and on you!” Grant exclaimed. “Zen, + you are very, very beautiful.” He raised her hand and pressed her fingers + to his lips. + </p> + <p> + As they stood watching the sunlight pour into the valley a sharp knock + sounded on the door. “Come,” said Dennison, and the next moment it swung + open and Phyllis Bruce entered, followed immediately by Linder. A question + leapt into her eyes at the remarkable situation which greeted them, and + she paused in embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Phyllis!” Grant exclaimed. “You here!” + </p> + <p> + “It would seem that I was not expected.” + </p> + <p> + “It is all very simple,” Grant explained, with a laugh. “Little Willie + Transley was my guest overnight. On account of the storm his mother became + alarmed, and drove out from the city early this morning for him. Mrs. + Transley, let me introduce Miss Bruce—Phyllis Bruce, of whom I have + told you.” + </p> + <p> + Zen’s cordial handshake did more to reassure Phyllis than any amount of + explanations, and Linder’s timely observation that he knew Wilson was + there and was wondering about him himself had valuable corroborative + effect. + </p> + <p> + “But now—YOUR explanations?” said Grant. “How comes it, Linder?” + </p> + <p> + “Simple enough, from our side. When I got back to town last night I found + Murdoch highly excited over a telegram from Miss Bruce that she would + arrive on the 3 a.m. train. He was determined to wait up, but when the + storm came on I persuaded him to go home, as I was sure I could identify + her. So I was lounging in my room waiting for three o’clock when I got + your telephone call. All I could catch was the fact that you were mighty + glad to get me, and had some urgent message for Miss Bruce. Then the + connection broke.” + </p> + <p> + “I see. And you, of course, assured Miss Bruce that I was being murdered, + or meeting some such happy and effective ending, out here in the + wilderness.” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly that, but I reported what I could, and Miss Bruce insisted + upon coming out at once. The roads were dreadful, but we had daylight. + Also, we have a trophy.” + </p> + <p> + Linder went out and returned in a moment with a sadly bedraggled hat. + </p> + <p> + “My poor hat!” Zen exclaimed. “I lost it on the way.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the best kind of evidence that you had but recently come over the + road,” said Linder, significantly. + </p> + <p> + “I think no more evidence need be called,” said Phyllis. “May I lay off my + things?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly—certainly,” Grant apologized. “But I must introduce one + more exhibit.” He handed her the telegram he had written during the night. + “That is the message I wanted Linder to rush to you,” he said, and as she + read it he saw the color deepen in her cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “I’m going to get breakfast, Mr. Grant,” Zen announced with a sudden burst + of energy. “Everybody keep out of the kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess I’ll feed up for you, this morning, old chap,” said Linder, beating + a retreat to the stables. + </p> + <p> + And when Phyllis had laid aside her coat and hat and had straightened her + hair a little in the glass above the mantelpiece she walked straight to + Grant and put both her hands in his. “Let me see this boy, Willie + Transley,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Grant led her into the whim-room, where the boy still slept soundly, and + drew aside the blinds that the morning light might fall about him. Phyllis + bent over the child. “Isn’t he dear?” she said, and stooped and kissed his + lips. + </p> + <p> + Then she stood up and looked for what seemed to Grant a very long time at + the panorama of grandeur that stretched away to the westward. + </p> + <p> + “When may I expect an answer, Phyllis?” he said at length. “You know why + my question has been so long delayed. I shall not attempt to excuse + myself. I have been very, very foolish. But to-day I am very, very wise. + May I also be very, very happy?” + </p> + <p> + He had taken her hands in his, and as she did not resist he drew her + gently to him. + </p> + <p> + “Little Willie christened me The Man-on-the-Hill,” he whispered. “I have + tried to live on the hill, but I need you to keep me from falling off.” + </p> + <p> + “What about your settlement plan? I thought you wanted me for that.” + </p> + <p> + “We will give our lives to that, together, Phyllis, to that, and to making + this house a home. If God should give us—” + </p> + <p> + He did not finish the thought, for the form of Phyllis Bruce trembled + against his, and her lips had murmured “Yes.”... + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant! The telephone is ringing,” called the clear voice + of Zen Transley. “Shall I take the message?” + </p> + <p> + “Please do,” said Dennison, inwardly abjuring the efficiency of the + lineman who had already made repairs. + </p> + <p> + “It’s Mr. Murdoch, and he’s highly excited, and he says have you Phyllis + Bruce here.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell him I have, and I’m going to keep her.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dennison Grant, by Robert Stead + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DENNISON GRANT *** + +***** This file should be named 3264-h.htm or 3264-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/3264/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Dennison Grant + A Novel of To-day + +Author: Robert Stead + +Release Date: June 3, 2006 [EBook #3264] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DENNISON GRANT *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +DENNISON GRANT + +A Novel of To-day + + +By Robert Stead + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Chuck at the Y.D. to-night, and a bed under the shingles," shouted +Transley, waving to the procession to be off. + +Linder, foreman and head teamster, straightened up from the half load +of new hay in which he had been awaiting the final word, tightened the +lines, made an unique sound in his throat, and the horses pressed their +shoulders into the collars. Linder glanced back to see each wagon or +implement take up the slack with a jerk like the cars of a freight +train; the cushioned rumble of wagon wheels on the soft earth, and the +noisy chatter of the steel teeth of the hay-rakes came up from the rear. +Transley's "outfit" was under way. + +Transley was a contractor; a master of men and of circumstances. Six +weeks before, the suspension of a grading order had left him high and +dry, with a dozen men and as many teams on his hands and hired for the +season. Transley galloped all that night into the foothills; when he +returned next evening he had a contract with the Y.D. to cut all the +hay from the ranch buildings to The Forks. By some deft touch of those +financial strings on which he was one day to become so skilled a player +Transley converted his dump scrapers into mowing machines, and three +days later his outfit was at work in the upper reaches of the Y.D. + +The contract had been decidedly profitable. Not an hour of broken +weather had interrupted the operations, and to-day, with two thousand +tons of hay in stack, Transley was moving down to the headquarters of +the Y.D. The trail lay along a broad valley, warded on either side by +ranges of foothills; hills which in any other country would have been +dignified by the name of mountains. From their summits the grey-green +up-tilted limestone protruded, whipped clean of soil by the chinooks of +centuries. Here and there on their northern slopes hung a beard of +scrub timber; sharp gulleys cut into their fastnesses to bring down the +turbulent waters of their snows. + +Some miles to the left of the trail lay the bed of the Y.D., fringed +with poplar and cottonwood and occasional dark green splashes of spruce. +Beyond the bed of the Y.D., beyond the foothills that looked down upon +it, hung the mountains themselves, their giant crests pitched like +mighty tents drowsing placidly between earth and heaven. Now their four +o'clock veil of blue-purple mist lay filmed about their shoulders, but +later they would stand out in bold silhouette cutting into the twilight +sky. Everywhere was the soft smell of new-mown hay; everywhere the +silences of the eternal, broken only by the muffled noises of Transley's +outfit trailing down to the Y.D. + +Linder, foreman and head teamster, cushioned his shoulders against his +half load of hay and contemplated the scene with amiable satisfaction. +The hay fields of the foothills had been a pleasant change from the +railway grades of the plains below. Men and horses had fattened and +grown content, and the foreman had reason to know that Transley's bank +account had profited by the sudden shift in his operations. Linder felt +in his pocket for pipe and matches; then, with a frown, withdrew his +fingers. He himself had laid down the law that there must be no smoking +in the hay fields. A carelessly dropped match might in an hour nullify +all their labor. + +Linder's frown had scarce vanished when hoof-beats pounded by the side +of his wagon, and a rider, throwing himself lightly from his horse, +dropped beside him in the hay. + +"Thought I'd ride with you a spell, Lin. That Pete-horse acts like he +was goin' sore on the off front foot. Chuck at the Y.D. to-night?" + +"That's what Transley says, George, and he knows." + +"Ever et at the Y.D?" + +"Nope." + +"Know old Y.D?" + +"Only to know his name is good on a cheque, and they say he still throws +a good rope." + +George wriggled to a more comfortable position in the hay. He had a +feeling that he was approaching a delicate subject with consummate +skill. After a considerable silence he continued-- + +"They say that's quite a girl old Y.D.'s got." + +"Oh," said Linder, slowly. The occasion of the soreness in that +Pete-horse's off front foot was becoming apparent. + +"You better stick to Pete," Linder continued. "Women is most uncertain +critters." + +"Don't I know it?" chuckled George, poking the foreman's ribs +companionably with his elbow. "Don't I know it?" he repeated, as his +mind apparently ran back over some reminiscence that verified Linder's +remark. It was evident from the pleasant grimaces of George's face that +whatever he had suffered from the uncertain sex was forgiven. + +"Say, Lin," he resumed after another pause, and this time in a more +confidential tone, "do you s'pose Transley's got a notion that way?" + +"Shouldn't wonder. Transley always knows what he's doing, and why. Y.D. +must be worth a million or so, and the girl is all he's got to leave +it to. Besides all that, no doubt she's well worth having on her own +account." + +"Well, I'm sorry for the boss," George replied, with great soberness. "I +alus hate to disappoint the boss." + +"Huh!" said Linder. He knew George Drazk too well for further comment. +After his unlimited pride in and devotion to his horse, George gave his +heart unreservedly to womankind. He suffered from no cramping niceness +in his devotions; that would have limited the play of his passion; to +him all women were alike--or nearly so. And no number of rebuffs could +convince George that he was unpopular with the objects of his democratic +affections. Such a conclusion was, to him, too absurd to be entertained, +no matter how many experiences might support it. If opportunity offered +he doubtless would propose to Y.D.'s daughter that very night--and get a +boxed ear for his pains. + +The Y.D. creek had crossed its valley, shouldering close against the +base of the foothills to the right. Here the current had created a +precipitous cutbank, and to avoid it and the stream the trail wound over +the side of the hill. As they crested a corner the silver ribbon of the +Y.D. was unravelled before them, and half a dozen miles down its +course the ranch buildings lay clustered in a grove of cottonwoods and +evergreens. All the great valley lay warm and pulsating in a flood +of yellow sunshine; the very earth seemed amorous and content in the +embrace of sun and sky. The majesty of the view seized even the unpoetic +souls of Linder and Drazk, and because they had no other means of +expression they swore vaguely and relapsed into silence. + +Hoof-beats again sounded by the wagon side. It was Transley. + +"Oh, here you are, Drazk. How long do you reckon it would take you to +ride down to the Y.D. on that Pete-horse?" Transley was a leader of men. + +Drazk's eyes sparkled at the subtle compliment to his horse. + +"I tell you, Boss," he said, "if there's any jackrabbits in the road +they'll get tramped on." + +"I bet they will," said Transley, genially. "Well, you just slide down +and tell Y.D. we're coming in. She's going to be later than I figured, +but I can't hurry the work horses. You know that, Drazk." + +"Sure I do, Boss," said Drazk, springing into his saddle. "Just watch +me lose myself in the dust." Then, to himself, "Here's where I beat the +boss to it." + +The sun had fallen behind the mountains, the valley was filled with +shadow, the afterglow, mauve and purple and copper, was playing far up +the sky when Transley's outfit reached the Y.D. corrals. George Drazk +had opened the gate and waited beside it. + +"Y.D. wants you an' Linder to eat with him at the house," he said as +Transley halted beside him. "The rest of us eat in the bunk-house." +There was something strangely modest in Drazk's manner. + +"Had yours handed to you already?" Linder managed to banter in a low +voice as they swung through the gate. + +"Hell!" protested Mr. Drazk. "A fellow that ain't a boss or a foreman +don't get a look-in. Never even seen her.... Come, you Pete-horse!" It +was evident George had gone back to his first love. + +The wagons drew up in the yard, and there was a fine jingle of harness +as the teamsters quickly unhitched. Y.D. himself approached through the +dusk; his large frame and confident bearing were unmistakable even in +that group of confident, vigorous men. + +"Glad to see you, Transley," he said cordially. "You done well out +there. 'So, Linder! You made a good job of it. Come up to the house--I +reckon the Missus has supper waitin'. We'll find a room for you up +there, too; it's different from bein' under canvas." + +So saying, and turning the welfare of the men and the horses over to +his foreman, the rancher led Transley and Linder along a path through a +grove of cottonwoods, across a footbridge where from underneath came the +babble of water, to "the house," marked by a yellow light which poured +through the windows and lost itself in the shadow of the trees. + +The nucleus of the house was the log cabin where Y.D. and his wife had +lived in their first married years. With the passage of time additions +had been built to every side which offered a point of contact, but the +log cabin still remained the family centre, and into it Transley and +Linder were immediately admitted. The poplar floor had long since worn +thin, save at the knots, and had been covered with edge-grained fir, but +otherwise the cabin stood as it had for twenty years, the white-washed +logs glowing in the light of two bracket lamps and the reflections from +a wood fire which burned merrily in the stove. The skins of a grizzly +bear and a timber wolf lay on the floor, and two moose heads looked down +from opposite ends of the room. On the walls hung other trophies won by +Y.D.'s rifle, along with hand-made bits of harness, lariats, and other +insignia of the ranchman's trade. + +The rancher took his guests' hats, and motioned each to a seat. +"Mother," he said, directing his voice into an adjoining room, "here's +the boys." + +In a moment "Mother" appeared drying her hands. In her appearance were +courage, resourcefulness, energy,--fit mate for the man who had made the +Y.D. known in every big cattle market of the country. As Linder's eye +caught her and her husband in the same glance his mind involuntarily +leapt to the suggestion of what the offspring of such a pair must be. +The men of the cattle country have a proper appreciation of heredity.... + +"My wife--Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder," said the rancher, with a +courtliness which sat strangely on his otherwise rough-and-ready speech. +"I been tellin' her the fine job you boys has made in the hay fields, +an' I reckon she's got a bite of supper waitin' you." + +"Y.D. has been full of your praises," said the woman. There was a touch +of culture in her manner as she received them, which Y.D.'s hospitality +did not disclose. + +She led them into another room, where a table was set for five. Linder +experienced a tang of happy excitement as he noted the number. Linder +allowed himself no foolishness about women, but, as he sometimes sagely +remarked to George Drazk, you never can tell what might happen. He shot +a quick glance at Transley, but the contractor's face gave no sign. Even +as he looked Linder thought what an able face it was. Transley was not +more than twenty-six, but forcefulness, assertion, ability, stood in +every line of his clean-cut features. He was such a man as to capture at +a blow the heart of old Y.D., perhaps of Y.D.'s daughter. + +"Where's Zen?" demanded the rancher. + +"She'll be here presently," his wife replied. "We don't have Mr. +Transley and Mr. Linder every night, you know," she added, with a smile. + +"Dolling up," thought Linder. "Trust a woman never to miss a bet." + +But at that moment a door opened, and the girl appeared. She did not +burst upon them, as Linder had half expected; she slipped quietly and +gracefully into their presence. She was dressed in black, in a costume +which did not too much conceal the charm of her figure, and the +nut-brown lustre of her face and hair played against the sober +background of her dress with an effect that was almost dazzling. + +"My daughter, Zen," said Y.D. "Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder." + +She shook hands frankly, first with Transley, then with Linder, as +had been the order of the introduction. In her manner was neither the +shyness which sometimes marks the women of remote settlements, nor the +boldness so readily bred of outdoor life. She gave the impression of one +who has herself, and the situation, in hand. + +"We're always glad to have guests at the Y.D." she was saying. "We live +so far from everywhere." + +Linder thought that a strange peg on which to hang their welcome. But +she was continuing-- + +"And you have been so successful, haven't you? You have made quite a hit +with Dad." + +"How about Dad's daughter?" asked Transley. Transley had a manner of +direct and forceful action. These were his first words to her. Linder +would not have dared be so precipitate. + +"Perhaps," thought Linder to himself, as he turned the incident over in +his mind, "perhaps that is why Transley is boss, and I'm just foreman." +The young woman's behavior seemed to support that conclusion. She did +not answer Transley's question, but she gave no evidence of displeasure. + +"You boys must be hungry," Y.D. was saying. "Pile in." + +The rancher and his wife sat at the ends of the table; Transley on the +side at Y.D.'s right; Linder at Transley's right. In the better light +Linder noted Y.D.'s face. It was the face of a man of fifty, possibly +sixty. Life in the open plays strange tricks with the appearance. Some +men it ages before their time; others seem to tap a spring of perpetual +youth. Save for the grey moustache and the puckerings about the eyes +Y.D.'s was still a young man's face. Then, as the rancher turned his +head, Linder noted a long scar, as of a burn, almost grown over in the +right cheek.... Across the table from them sat the girl, impartially +dividing her position between the two. + +A Chinese boy served soup, and the rancher set the example by "piling +in" without formality. Eight hours in the open air between meals is a +powerful deterrent of table small-talk. Then followed a huge joint +of beef, from which Y.D. cut generous slices with swift and dexterous +strokes of a great knife, and the Chinese boy added the vegetables from +a side table. As the meat disappeared the call of appetite became less +insistent. + +"She's been a great summer, ain't she?" said the rancher, laying down +his knife and fork and lifting the carver. "Transley, some more meat? +Pshaw, you ain't et enough for a chicken. Linder? That's right, pass +up your plate. Powerful dry, though. That's only a small bit; here's +a better slice here. Dry summers gen'rally mean open winters, but you +can't never tell. Zen, how 'bout you? Old Y.D.'s been too long on the +job to take chances. Mother? How much did you say, Transley? About two +thousand tons? Not enough. Don't care if I do,"--helping himself to +another piece of beef. + +"I think you'll find two thousand tons, good hay and good measurement," +said Transley. + +"I'm sure of it," rejoined his host, generously. "I'm carryin' more +steers than usual, and'll maybe run in a bunch of doggies from Manitoba +to boot. I got to have more hay." + +So the meal progressed, the rancher furnishing both the hospitality and +the conversation. Transley occasionally broke in to give assent to +some remark, but his interruption was quite unnecessary. It was Y.D.'s +practice to take assent for granted. Once or twice the women interjected +a lead to a different subject of conversation in which their words would +have carried greater authority, but Y.D. instantly swung it back to the +all-absorbing topic of hay. + +The Chinese boy served a pudding of some sort, and presently the meal +was ended. + +"She's been a dry summer--powerful dry," said the rancher, with a wink +at his guests. "Zen, I think there's a bit of gopher poison in there +yet, ain't there?" + +The girl left the room without remark, returning shortly with a jug and +glasses, which she placed before her father. + +"I suppose you wear a man's size, Transley," he said, pouring out a big +drink of brown liquor, despite Transley's deprecating hand. "Linder, how +many fingers? Two? Well, we'll throw in the thumb. Y.D? If you please, +just a little snifter. All set?" + +The rancher rose to his feet, and the company followed his example. + +"Here's ho!--and more hay," he said, genially. + +"Ho!" said Linder. + +"The daughter of the Y.D!" said Transley, looking across the table at +the girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white teeth, she +raised an empty glass and clinked it against his. + +The men drained their glasses and re-seated themselves, but the women +remained standing. + +"Perhaps you will excuse us now," said the rancher's wife. "You will +wish to talk over business. Y.D. will show you upstairs, and we will +expect you to be with us for breakfast." + +With a bow she left the room, followed by her daughter. Linder had a +sense of being unsatisfied; it was as though a ravishing meal has been +placed before a hungry man, and only its aroma had reached his senses +when it had been taken away. Well, it provoked the appetite-- + +The rancher re-filled the glasses, but Transley left his untouched, and +Linder did the same. There were business matters to discuss, and it was +no fair contest to discuss business in the course of a drinking bout +with an old stager like Y.D. + +"I got to have another thousand tons," the rancher was saying. "Can't +take chances on any less, and I want you boys to put it up for me." + +"Suits me," said Transley, "if you'll show me where to get the hay." + +"You know the South Y.D?" + +"Never been on it." + +"Well, it's a branch of the Y.D. which runs south-east from The Forks. +Guess it got its name from me, because I built my first cabin at The +Forks. That was about the time you was on a milk diet, Transley, and +us old-timers had all outdoors to play with. You see, the Y.D. is a +cantank'rous stream, like its godfather. At The Forks you'd nat'rally +suppose is where two branches joined, an' jogged on henceforth in double +harness. Well, that ain't it at all. This crick has modern ideas, an' +at The Forks it divides itself into two, an' she hikes for the Gulf o' +Mexico an' him for Hudson's Bay. As I was sayin', I built my first cabin +at The Forks--a sort o' peek-a-boo cabin it was, where the wolves usta +come an' look in at nights. Well, I usta look out through the same +holes. I had the advantage o' usin' language, an' I reckon we was about +equal scared. There was no wife or kid in those days." + +The rancher paused, took a long draw on his pipe, and his eyes glowed +with the light of old recollections. + +"Well, as I was sayin'," he continued presently, "folks got to callin' +the stream the Y.D., after me. That's what you get for bein' first on +the ground--a monument for ever an ever. This bein' the main stream got +the name proper, an' the other branch bein' smallest an' running kind +o' south nat'rally got called the South Y.D. I run stock in both valleys +when I was at The Forks, but not much since I came down here. Well, +there's maybe a thousand tons o' hay over in the South Y.D., an' you +boys better trail over there to-morrow an' pitch into it--that is, if +you're satisfied with the price I'm payin' you." + +"The price is all right," said Transley, "and we'll hit the trail at +sun-up. There'll be no trouble--no confliction of interests, I mean?" + +"Whose interests?" demanded the rancher, beligerently. "Ain't I the +father of the Y.D? Ain't the whole valley named for me? When it comes to +interests--" + +"Of course," Transley agreed, "but I just wanted to know how things +stood in case we ran up against something. It's not like the old days, +when a rancher would rather lose twenty-five per cent. of his stock +over winter than bother putting up hay. Hay land is getting to be worth +money, and I just want to know where we stand." + +"Quite proper," said Y.D., "quite proper. An' now the matter's under +discussion, I'll jus' show you my hand. There's a fellow named Landson +down the valley of the South Y.D. that's been flirtin' with that hay +meadow for years, but he ain't got no claim to it. I was first on the +ground an' I cut it whenever I feel like it an' I'm goin' to go on +cuttin' it. If anybody comes out raisin' trouble, you just shoo 'em off, +an' go on cuttin' that hay, spite o' hell an' high water. Y.D.'ll stand +behind you." + +"Thanks," said Transley. "That's what I wanted to know." + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The rancher had ridden into the Canadian plains country from below "the +line" long before barbed wire had become a menace in cattle-land. From +Pincher Creek to Maple Creek, and far beyond, the plains lay unbroken +save by the deep canyons where, through the process of ages, mountain +streams had worn their beds down to gravel bottoms, and by the +occasional trail which wandered through the wilderness like some +thousand-mile lariat carelessly dropped from the hand of the Master +Plainsman. Here and there, where the cutbanks of the river Canyons +widened out into sloping valleys, affording possible access to the +deep-lying streams, some ranchman had established his headquarters, and +his red-roofed, whitewashed buildings flashed back the hot rays which +fell from an opalescent heaven. At some of the more important fords +trading posts had come into being, whither the ranchmen journeyed twice +a year for groceries, clothing, kerosene, and other liquids handled as +surreptitiously as the vigilance of the Mounted Police might suggest. +The virgin prairie, with her strange, subtle facility for entangling the +hearts of men, lay undefiled by the mercenary plowshare; unprostituted +by the commercialism of the days that were to be. + +Into such a country Y.D. had ridden from the South, trailing his little +bunch of scrub heifers, in search of grass and water and, it may be, of +a new environment. Up through the Milk River country; across the Belly +and the Old Man; up and down the valley of the Little Bow, and across +the plains as far as the Big Bow he rode in search of the essentials of +a ranch headquarters. The first of these is water, the second grass, +the third fuel, the fourth shelter. Grass there was everywhere; a fine, +short, hairy crop which has the peculiar quality of self-curing in the +autumn sunshine and so furnishing a natural, uncut hay for the herds +in the winter months. Water there was only where the mountain streams +plowed their canyons through the deep subsoil, or at little lakes of +surface drainage, or, at rare intervals, at points where pure springs +broke forth from the hillsides. Along the river banks dark, crumbling +seams exposed coal resources which solved all questions of fuel, +and fringes of cottonwood and poplar afforded rough but satisfactory +building material. As the rancher sat on his horse on a little knoll +which overlooked a landscape leading down on one side to a sheltering +bluff by the river, and on the other losing itself on the rim of the +heavens, no fairer prospect surely could have met his eye. + +And yet he was not entirely satisfied. He was looking for no temporary +location, but for a spot where he might drive his claim-stakes deep. +That prairie, which stretched under the hot sunshine unbroken to the rim +of heaven; that brown grass glowing with an almost phosphorescent light +as it curled close to the mother sod;--a careless match, a cigar stub, a +bit of gun-wadding, and in an afternoon a million acres of pasture land +would carry not enough foliage to feed a gopher. + +Y.D. turned in his saddle. Along the far western sky hung the purple +draperies of the Rockies. For fifty miles eastward from the mighty range +lay the country of the foothills, its great valleys lost to the vision +which leapt only from summit to summit. In the clear air the peaks +themselves seemed not a dozen miles away, but Y.D. had not ridden +cactus, sagebrush and prairie from the Rio Grande to the St. Mary's for +twenty years to be deceived by a so transparent illusion. Far over +the plains his eye could trace the dark outline of a trail leading +mountainward. + +The heifers drowsed lazily in the brown grass. Y.D., shading his eyes +the better with his hand, gazed long and thoughtfully at the purple +range. Then he spat decisively over his horse's shoulder and made a +strange "cluck" in his throat. The knowing animal at once set out on +a trot to stir the lazy heifers into movement, and presently they were +trailing slowly up into the foothill country. + +Far up, where the trail ahead apparently dropped over the end of the +world, a horse and rider hove in view. They came on leisurely, and half +an hour elapsed before they met the rancher trailing west. + +The stranger was a rancher of fifty, wind-whipped and weather-beaten of +countenance. The iron grey of his hair and moustache suggested the iron +of the man himself; iron of figure, of muscle, of will. + +"'Day," he said, affably, coming to a halt a few feet from Y.D. +"Trailing into the foothills?" + +Y.D. lolled in his saddle. His attitude did not invite conversation, +and, on the other hand, intimated no desire to avoid it. + +"Maybe," he said, noncommittally. Then, relaxing somewhat,--"Any water +farther up?" + +"About eight miles. Sundown should see you there, and there's a decent +spot to camp. You're a stranger here?" The older man was evidently +puzzling over the big "Y.D." branded on the ribs of the little herd. + +"It's a big country," Y.D. answered. "It's a plumb big country, for +sure, an' I guess a man can be a stranger in some corners of it, can't +he?" + +Y.D. began to resent the other man's close scrutiny of his brand. + +"Well, what's wrong with it?" he demanded. + +"Oh, nothing. No offense. I just wondered what 'Y.D.' might stand for." + +"Might stand for Yankee devil," said Y.D., with a none-of-your-business +curl of his lip. But he had carried his curtness too far, and was not +prepared for the quick retort. + +"Might also stand for yellow dog, and be damned to you!" The stranger's +strong figure sat up stern and knit in his saddle. + +Y.D.'s hand went to his hip, but the other man was unarmed. You can't +draw on a man who isn't armed. + +"Listen!" the older man continued, in sharp, clear-cut notes. "You are +a stranger not only to our trails, but our customs. You are a young man. +Let me give you some advice. First--get rid of that artillery. It will +do you more harm than good. And second, when a stranger speaks to you +civilly, answer him the same. My name is Wilson--Frank Wilson, and if +you settle in the foothills you'll find me a decent neighbor, as soon as +you are able to appreciate decency." + +To his own great surprise, Y.D. took his dressing down in silence. There +was a poise in Wilson's manner that enforced respect. He recognized in +him the English rancher of good family; usually a man of fine courtesy +within reasonable bounds; always a hard hitter when those bounds are +exceeded. Y.D. knew that he had made at least a tactical blunder; +his sensitiveness about his brand would arouse, rather than allay, +suspicion. His cheeks burned with a heat not of the afternoon sun as +he submitted to this unaccustomed discipline, but he could not bring +himself to express regret for his rudeness. + +"Well, now that the shower is over, we'll move on," he said, turning his +back on Wilson and "clucking" to his horse. + +Y.D. followed the stream which afterwards bore his name as far as the +Upper Forks. As he entered the foothills he found all the advantages +of the plains below, with others peculiar to the foothill country. The +richer herbage, induced by a heavier precipitation; the occasional belts +of woodland; the rugged ravines and limestone ridges affording +good natural protection against fire; abundant fuel and water +everywhere--these seemed to constitute the ideal ranch conditions. At +the Upper Forks, through some freak of formation, the stream divided +into two. From this point was easy access into the valleys of the Y.D. +and the South Y.D., as they were subsequently called. The stream rippled +over beds of grey gravel, and mountain trout darted from the rancher's +shadow as it fell across the water. Up the valley, now ruddy gold with +the changing colors of autumn, white-capped mountains looked down from +amid the infinite silences; and below, broad vistas of brown prairie +and silver ribbons of running water. Y.D. turned his swarthy face to +the sunlight and took in the scene slowly, deliberately, but with a +commercialized eye; blue and white and ruddy gold were nothing to him; +his heart was set on grass and water and shelter. He had roved enough, +and he had a reason for seeking some secluded spot like this, where he +could settle down while his herds grew up, and, perhaps, forget some +things that were better forgotten. + +With sudden decision the cattle man threw himself from his horse, +unstrapped the little kit of supplies which he carried by the saddle; +drew off saddle and bridle and turned the animal free. The die was cast; +this was the spot. Within ten minutes his ax was ringing in the grove of +spruce trees close by, and the following night he fried mountain trout +under the shelter of his own temporary roof. + +It was the next summer when Y.D. had another encounter with Wilson. The +Upper Forks turned out to be less secluded than he had supposed; it was +on the trail of trappers and prospectors working into the mountains. +Traders, too, in mysterious commodities, moved mysteriously back and +forth, and the log cabin at The Forks became something of a centre of +interest. Strange companies forgathered within its rude walls. + +It was at such a gathering, in which Y.D. and three companions sat about +the little square table, that one of the visitors facetiously inquired +of the rancher how his herd was progressing. + +"Not so bad, not so bad," said Y.D., casually. "Some winter losses, of +course; snow's too deep this far up. Why?" + +"Oh, some of your neighbors down the valley say your cows are uncommon +prolific." + +"They do?" said Y.D., laying down his cards. "Who says that?" + +"Well, Wilson, for instance--" + +Y.D. sprang to his feet. "I've had one run-in with that ----," he +shouted, "an' I let him talk to me like a Sunday School super'ntendent. +Here's where I talk to him!" + +"Well, finish the game first," the others protested. "The night's +young." + +Y.D. was sufficiently drunk to be supersensitive about his honor, and +the inference from Wilson's remark was that he was too handy with his +branding-iron. + +"No, boys, no!" he protested. "I'll make that Englishman eat his words +or choke on them." + +"That's right," the company agreed. "The only thing to do. We'll all go +down with you." + +"An' you won't do that, neither," Y.D. answered. "Think I need a +body-guard for a little chore like that? Huh!" There was immeasurable +contempt in that monosyllable. + +But a fresh bottle was produced, and Y.D. was persuaded that his honor +would suffer no serious damage until the morning. Before that time his +company, with many demonstrations of affection and admonitions to "make +a good job of it," left for the mountains. + +Y.D. saddled his horse early, buckled his gun on his hip, hung a lariat +from his saddle, and took the trail for the Wilson ranch. During the +drinking and gambling of the night he had been able to keep the insult +in the background, but, alone under the morning sun, it swept over him +and stung him to fury. There was just enough truth in the report to +demand its instant suppression. + +Wilson was branding calves in his corral as Y.D. came up. He was alone +save for a girl of eighteen who tended the fire. + +Wilson looked up with a hot iron in his hand, nodded, then turned to +apply the iron before it cooled. As he leaned over the calf Y.D. swung +his lariat. It fell true over the Englishman, catching him about the +arms and the middle of the body. Y.D. took a half-hitch of the lariat +about his saddle horn, and the well-trained horse dragged his victim in +the most matter-of-fact manner out of the gate of the corral and into +the open. + +Y.D. shortened the line. After the first moment of confused surprise +Wilson tried to climb to his feet, but a quick jerk of the lariat sent +him prostrate again. In a moment Y.D. had taken up all the line, and sat +in his saddle looking down contemptuously upon him. + +"Well," he said, "who's too handy with his branding-iron now?" + +"You are!" cried Wilson. "Give me a man's chance and I'll thrash you +here and now to prove it." + +For answer Y.D. clucked to his horse and dragged his enemy a few yards +farther. "How's the goin', Frank?" he said, in mock cordiality. "Think +you can stand it as far as the crick?" + +But at that instant an unexpected scene flashed before Y.D. He caught +just a glimpse of it--just enough to indicate what might happen. The +girl who had been tending the fire was rushing upon him with a red-hot +iron extended before her. Quicker than he could throw himself from the +saddle she had struck him in the face with it. + +"You brand our calves!" she cried in a fury of recklessness. "I'll brand +YOU--damn you!" + +Y.D. threw himself from the saddle, but in the suddenness of her +onslaught he failed to clear it properly, and stumbled to the ground. In +a moment she was on him and had whipped his gun from his belt. + +"Get up!" she said. And he got up. + +"Walk to that post, put your arms around it with your back to me, and +stand there." He did so. + +The girl kept him covered with the revolver while she released the +lariat that bound her father. + +"Are you hurt, Dad?" she inquired solicitously. + +"No, just shaken up," he answered, scrambling to his feet. + +"All right. Now we'll fix him!" + +The girl walked to the next post from Y.D.'s, climbed it leisurely and +seated herself on the top. + +"Now, Mr. Y.D.," she said, "you are going to fight like a white man, +with your fists. I'll sit up here and see that there's no dirty work. +First, advance and shake hands." + +"I'm damned if I will," said Y.D. + +The revolver spoke, and the bullet cut dangerously close to him. + +"Don't talk back to me again," she cried, "or you won't be able to +fight. Now shake hands." + +He extended his hand and Wilson took it for a moment. + +"Now when I count three," said the girl, "pile in. There's no time +limit. Fight 'til somebody's satisfied. One--two--three--" + +At the sound of the last word Wilson caught his opponent a punch on the +chin which stretched him. He got up slowly, gathering his wits about +him. He was twenty years younger than Wilson, but a rancher of fifty +is occasionally a better man than he was at thirty. Any disadvantages +Wilson suffered from being shaken up in the lariat were counterbalanced +by Y.D.'s branding. His face was burning painfully, and his vision was +not the best. But he had not followed the herds since childhood without +learning to use his fists. He steadied himself on his knee to bring his +mind into tune with this unusual warfare. Then he rushed upon Wilson. + +He received another straight knock-out on the chin. It jarred the joints +of his neck and left him dazed. It was half a minute before he could +steady himself. He realized now that he had a fight on his hands. He was +too cool a head to get into a panic, but he found he must take his time +and do some brain work. Another chin smash would put him out for good. + +He advanced carefully. Wilson stood awaiting him, a picture of poise and +self-confidence. Y.D. led a quick left to Wilson's ribs, but failed +to land. Wilson parried skilfully and immediately answered with a left +swing to the chin. But Y.D. was learning, and this time he was on guard. +He dodged the blow, broke in and seized Wilson about the body. The two +men stood for a moment like bulls with locked horns. Y.D. brought his +weight to bear on his antagonist to force him to the ground, but in some +way the Englishman got elbow room and began raining short jabs on his +face, already raw from the branding-iron. Y.D. jerked back from this +assault. Then came the third smash on the chin. + +Y.D. gathered himself up very slowly. The world was swimming around in +circles. On a post sat a girl, covering him with a revolver and laughing +at him. Somewhere on the horizon Wilson's figure whipped forward and +back. Then his horse came into the circle. Y.D. rose to his feet, strode +with quick, uncertain steps to his horse, threw himself into the saddle +and without a word started up the trail to The Forks. + +"Seems to have gone with as little ceremony as he came," Wilson remarked +to his daughter. "Now, let us get along with the calves."... + +Y.D. rode the trail to The Forks in bitterness of spirit. He had sallied +forth that morning strong and daring to administer summary punishment; +he was retracing his steps thrashed, humiliated, branded for life by a +red iron thrust in his face by a slip of a girl. He exhausted his by +no means limited vocabulary of epithets, but even his torrents of abuse +brought no solace to him. The hot sun beat down on his wounded face +and hurt terribly, but he almost forgot that pain in the agony of his +humiliation. He had been thrashed by an old man, with a wisp of a girl +sitting on a post and acting as referee. He turned in his saddle and +through the empty valley shouted an insulting name at her. + +Then Y.D. slowly began to feel his face burn with a fire not of the +branding-iron nor of the afternoon sun. He knew that his word was a lie. +He knew that he would not have dared use it in her father's hearing. He +knew that he was a coward. No man had ever called Y.D. a coward; no +man had ever known him for a coward; he had never known himself as +such--until to-day. With all his roughness Y.D. had a sense of honor +as keen as any razor blade. If he allowed himself wide latitude in some +matters it was because he had lived his life in an atmosphere where the +wide latitude was the thing. The prairie had been his bed, the sky his +roof, himself his own policeman, judge, and executioner since boyhood. +When responsibility is so centralized wide latitudes must be allowed. +But the uttermost borders of that latitude were fixed with iron +rigidity, and when he had thrown a vile epithet at a decent woman he +knew he had broken the law of honor. He was a cur--a cur who should be +shot in his tracks for the cur he was. + +Y.D. did hard thinking all the way to The Forks. Again and again the +figure of the girl flashed before him; he would close his eyes and jerk +his head back to avoid the burning iron. Then he saw her on the post, +sitting, with apparent impartiality, on guard over the fight. Yes, +she had been impartial, in a way. Y.D. was willing to admit that much, +although he surmised that she knew more about her father's prowess with +his fists than he had known. She had had no doubt about the outcome. + +"Well, she's good backing for her old man, anyway," he admitted, with +returning generosity. He had reached his cabin, and was dressing his +face with salve and soda. "She sure played the game into the old man's +hand." + +Y.D. could not sleep that night. He was busy sorting up his ideas of +life and revising them in the light of the day's experience. The more he +thought of his behavior the less defensible it appeared. By midnight he +was admitting that he had got just what was coming to him. + +Presently he began to feel lonely. It was a strange sensation to Y.D., +whose life had been loneliness from the first, so that he had never +known it. Of course, there was the hunger for companionship; he had +often known that. A drinking bout, a night at cards, a whirl into +excess, and that would pass away. But this loneliness was different. The +moan of the wind in the spruce trees communicated itself to him with an +eerie oppressiveness. He sat up and lit a lamp. The light fell on the +bare logs of his hut; he had never known before how bare they were. He +got up and shuffled about; took a lid off the stove and put it back on +again; moved aimlessly about the room, and at last sat down on the bed. + +"Y.D.," he said with a laugh, "I believe you've got nerves. You're +behavin' like a woman." + +But he could not laugh it off. The mention of a woman brought Wilson's +daughter back vividly before him. "She's a man's girl," he found +himself, saying. + +He sat up with a shock at his own words. Then he rested his chin on his +hands and gazed long at the blank wall before him. That was life--his +life. That blank wall was his life.... If only it had a window in it; a +bright space through which the vision could catch a glimpse of something +broader and better.... Well, he could put a window in it. He could put a +window in his life. + +The next noon Frank Wilson looked up with surprise to see Y.D. riding +into his yard. Wilson stiffened instantly, as though setting himself +against the shock of an attack, but there was nothing belligerent in +Y.D.'s greeting. + +"Wilson," he said, "I pulled a dirty trick on you yesterday, an' I got +more than I reckoned on. The old Y.D. would have come back with a gun +for vengeance. Well, I ain't after vengeance. I reckon you an' me has +got to live in this valley, an' we might as well live peaceful. Does +that go with you?" + +"Full weight and no shrinkage," said Wilson, heartily, extending his +hand. "Come up to the house for dinner." + +Y.D. was nothing loth to accept the invitation, even though he had his +misgivings as to how he should meet the women folks. It turned out that +Mrs. Wilson had been at a neighboring ranch for some days, and the girl +was in charge of the home. The flash in her eyes did not conceal a glint +of triumph--or was it humor? + +"Jessie," her father said, with conspicuous matter-of-factness, "Y.D. +has just dropped in for dinner." + +Y.D. stood with his hat in his hand. This was harder than meeting +Wilson. He felt that he could manage better if Wilson would get out. + +"Miss Wilson," he managed to say at length, "I just thought I'd run in +an' thank you for what you did yesterday." + +"You're very welcome," she answered, and he could not tell whether +the note in her voice was of fun or sarcasm. "Any time I can be of +service--" + +"That's what I wanted to talk about," he broke in. There was something +bewitching about the girl. She more than realized his fantastic visions +of the night. She had mastered him. Perhaps it was a subtle masculine +desire to turn her mastery into ultimate surrender that led him on. + +"That's just what I want to talk about. You started breakin' in an +outlaw yesterday, so to speak. How'd you like to finish the job?" + +Y.D. was very red when this speech was finished. He had not known that a +wisp of a girl could so discomfit a man. + +"Is that a proposal?" she asked, and this time he was sure the note in +her voice was one of banter. "I never had one, so I don't know." + +"Well, yes, we'll call it that," he said, with returning courage. + +"Well we won't, either," she flared back. "Just because I sat on a post +and superintended the--the ceremonies, is no reason that you should want +to marry me,--or I, you. You'll find water and a basin on the bench at +the end of the house, and dinner will be ready in twenty minutes." + +Y.D. had a feeling of a little boy being sent to wash himself. + +But the next spring he built a larger cabin down the valley from The +Forks, and to that cabin one day in June came Jessie Wilson to "finish +the job." + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Transley and Linder were so early about on the morning after their +conversation with Y.D. that there was no opportunity of another meeting +with the rancher's wife or daughter. They were slipping quietly out of +the house to take breakfast with the men when Y.D. intercepted them. + +"Breakfast is waitin', boys," he said, and led them back into the room +where they had had supper the previous evening. Y.D. ate with them, but +the meal was served by the Chinese boy. + +In the yard all was jingling excitement. The men of the Y.D. were +fraternally assisting Transley's gang in hitching up and getting away, +and there was much bustling activity to an accompaniment of friendly +profanity. It was not yet six o'clock, but the sun was well up over the +eastern ridges that fringed the valley, and to the west the snow-capped +summits of the mountains shone like polished ivory. The exhilaration in +the air was almost intoxicating. + +Linder quickly converted the apparent chaos of horses, wagons and +implements into order; Transley had a last word with Y.D., and the +rancher, shouting "Good luck, boys! Make it a thousand tons or more," +waved them away. + +Linder glanced back at the house. The bright sunshine had not awakened +it; it lay dreaming in its grove of cool, green trees. + +The trail lay, not up the valley, but across the wedge of foothills +which divided the South Y.D. from the parent stream. The assent was +therefore much more rapid than the trails which followed the general +course of the stream. Huge hills, shouldering together, left at times +only wagon-track room between; at other places they skirted dangerous +cutbanks worn by spring freshets, and again trekked for long distances +over gently curving uplands. In an hour the horses were showing the +strain of it, and Linder halted them for a momentary rest. + +It was at that moment that Drazk rode up, his face a study in obvious +annoyance. + +"Danged if I ain't left that Pete-horse's blanket down at the Y.D.," he +exclaimed. + +"Oh, well, you can easily ride back for it and catch up on us this +afternoon," said Linder, who was not in the least deceived. + +"Thanks, Lin," said Drazk. "I'll beat it down an' catch up on you +this afternoon, sure," and he was off down the trail as fast as "that +Pete-horse" could carry him. + +At the Y.D. George conducted the search for his horse blanket in the +strangest places. It took him mainly about the yard of the house, and +even to the kitchen door, where he interviewed the Chinese boy. + +"You catchee horse blanket around here?" he inquired, with appropriate +gesticulations. + +"You losee hoss blanket?" + +"Yep." + +"What kind hoss blanket?" + +"Jus' a brown blanket for that Pete-horse." + +"Whose hoss?" + +"Mine," proudly. + +"Where you catchee?" + +"Raised him." + +"Good hoss?" + +"You betcha." + +"Huh!" + +Pause. + +"You no catchee horse blanket, hey?" + +"No!" said the Chinaman, whose manner instantly changed. In this brief +conversation he had classified Drazk, and classified him correctly. "You +catchee him, though--some hell, too--you stickee lound here. Beat it," +and Drazk found the kitchen door closed in his face. + +Drazk wandered slowly around the side of the house, and was not above +a surreptitious glance through the windows. They revealed nothing. He +followed a path out by a little gate. His ruse had proven a blind trail, +and there was nothing to do but go down to the stables, take the horse +blanket from the peg where he had hung it, and set out again for the +South Y.D. + +As he turned a corner of the fence the sight of a young woman burst upon +him. She was hatless and facing the sun. Drazk, for all his admiration +of the sex, had little eye for detail. "A sort of chestnut, about +sixteen hands high, and with the look of a thoroughbred," he afterwards +described her to Linder. + +She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and Drazk instantly summoned a +smirk which set his homely face beaming with good humor. + +"Pardon me, ma'am," he said, with an elaborate bow. "I am Mr. Drazk--Mr. +George Drazk--Mr. Transley's assistant. No doubt he spoke of me." + +She was inside the enclosure formed by the fence, and he outside. She +turned on him eyes which set Drazk's pulses strangely a-tingle, and +subjected him to a deliberate but not unfriendly inspection. + +"No, I don't believe he did," she said at length. Drazk cautiously +approached, as though wondering how near he could come without +frightening her away. He reached the fence and leaned his elbows on it. +She showed no disposition to move. He cautiously raised one foot and +rested it on the lower rail. + +"It's a fine morning, ma'am," he ventured. + +"Rather," she replied. "Why aren't you with Mr. Transley's gang?" + +The question gave George an opening. "Well, you see," he said, "it's all +on account of that Pete-horse. That's him down there. I rode away this +morning and plumb forgot his blanket. So when Mr. Transley seen it he +says, 'Drazk, take the day off an' go back for your blanket,' he says. +'There's no hurry,' he says. 'Linder an' me'll manage,' he says." + +"Oh!" + +"So here I am." He glanced at her again. She was showing no disposition +to run away. She was about two yards from him, along the fence. Drazk +wondered how long it would take him to bridge that distance. Even as he +looked she leaned her elbows on the fence and rested one of her feet on +the lower rail. Drazk fancied he saw the muscles about her mouth pulling +her face into little, laughing curves, but she was gazing soberly into +the distance. + +"He's some horse, that Pete-horse," he said, taking up the subject which +lay most ready to his tongue. "He's sure some horse." + +"I have no doubt." + +"Yep," Drazk continued. "Him an' me has seen some times. Whew! Things I +couldn't tell you about, at all." + +"Well, aren't you going to?" + +Drazk glanced at her curiously. This girl showed signs of leading him +out of his depth. But it was a very delightful sensation to feel one's +self being led out of his depth by such a girl. Her face was motionless; +her eyes fixed dreamily upon the brown prairies that swept up the flanks +of the foothills to the south. Far and away on their curving crests the +dark snake-line of Transley's outfit could be seen apparently motionless +on the rim of the horizon. + +Drazk changed his foot on the rail and the motion brought him six inches +nearer her. + +"Well, f'r instance," he said, spurring his imagination into action, +"there was the fellow I run down an' shot in the Cypress Hills." + +"Shot!" she exclaimed, and the note of admiration in her voice stirred +him to further flights. + +"Yep," he continued, proudly. "Shot an' buried him there, right by the +road where he fell. Only me an' that Pete-horse knows the spot." + +George sighed sentimentally. "It's awful sad, havin' to kill a man," +he went on, "an' it makes you feel strange an' creepy, 'specially at +nights. That is, the first one affects you that way, but you soon get +used to it. You see, he insulted--" + +"The first one? Have you killed more than one?" + +"Oh yes, lots of them. A man like me, what knocks around all over with +all sorts of people, has to do it. + +"Then there's the police. After you kill a few men nat'rally the police +begins to worry you. I always hate to kill a policeman." + +"It must be an interesting life." + +"It is, but it's a hard one," he said, after a pause during which he had +changed feet again and taken up another six inches of the distance which +separated them. He was almost afraid to continue the conversation. He +was finding progress so much easier than he had expected. It was evident +that he had made a tremendous hit with Y.D.'s daughter. What a story to +tell Linder! What would Transley say? He was shaking with excitement. + +"It's an awful hard life," he went on, "an' there comes a time, Miss, +when a man wants to quit it. There comes a time when every decent man +wants to settle down. I been thinkin' about that a lot lately.... What +do YOU think about it?" Drazk had gone white. He felt that he actually +had proposed to her. + +"Might be a good idea," she replied, demurely. He changed feet again. +He had gone too far to stop. He must strike the iron when it was hot. Of +course he had no desire to stop, but it was all so wonderful. He could +speak to her now in a whisper. + +"How about you, Miss? How about you an' me jus' settlin' down?" + +She did not answer for a moment. Then, in a low voice, + +"It wouldn't be fair to accept you like this, Mr. Drazk. You don't know +anything about me." + +"An' I don't want to--I mean, I don't care what about you." + +"But it wouldn't be fair until you know," she continued. "There are +things I'd have to tell you, and I don't like to." + +She was looking downwards now, and he fancied he could see the color +rising about her cheeks and her frame trembling. He turned toward her +and extended his arms. "Tell me--tell your own George," he cooed. + +"No," she said, with sudden rigidity. "I can't confess." + +"Come on," he pleaded. "Tell me. I've been a bad man, too." + +She seemed to be weighing the matter. "If I tell you, you will never, +never mention it to anyone?" + +"Never. I swear it to you," dramatically raising his hand. + +"Well," she said, looking down bashfully and making little marks with +her finger-nail in the pole on which they were leaning, "I never told +anyone before, and nobody in the world knows it except he and I, and he +doesn't know it now either, because I killed him.... I had to do it." + +"Of course you did, dear," he murmured. It was wonderful to receive a +woman's confidence like this. + +"Yes, I had to kill him," she repeated. "You see, he--he proposed to me +without being introduced!" + +It was some seconds before Drazk felt the blow. It came to him +gradually, like returning consciousness to a man who has been stunned. +Then anger swept him. + +"You're playin' with me," he cried. "You're makin' a fool of me!" + +"Oh, George dear, how could I?" she protested. "Now perhaps you better +run along to that Pete-horse. He looks lonely." + +"All right," he said, striding away angrily. As he walked his rage +deepened, and he turned and shook his fist at her, shouting, "All right, +but I'll get you yet, see? You think you're smart, and Transley thinks +he's smart, but George Drazk is smarter than both of you, and he'll get +you yet." + +She waved her hand complacently, but her composure had already maddened +him. He jerked his horse up roughly, threw himself into the saddle, and +set out at a hard gallop along the trail to the South Y.D. + +It was mid-afternoon when he overtook Transley's outfit, now winding +down the southern slope of the tongue of foothills which divided the +two valleys of the Y.D. Pete, wet over the flanks, pulled up of his own +accord beside Linder's wagon. + +"'Lo, George," said Linder. "What's your hurry?" Then, glancing at his +saddle, "Where's your blanket?" + +Drazk's jaw dropped, but he had a quick wit, although an unbalanced one. + +"Well, Lin, I clean forgot all about it," he admitted, with a laugh, +"but when a fellow spends the morning chatting with old Y.D.'s daughter +I guess he's allowed to forget a few things." + +"Oh!" + +"Reckon you don't believe it, eh, Lin? Reckon you don't believe I stood +an' talked with her over the fence for so long I just had to pull myself +away?" + +"You reckon right." + +George was thinking fast. Here was an opportunity to present the +incident in a light which had not before occurred to him. + +"Guess you wouldn't believe she told me her secret--told me somethin' +she had never told anybody else, an' made me swear not to mention. Guess +you don't believe that, neither?" + +"You guess right again." Linder was quite unperturbed. He knew something +of Drazk's gift for romancing. + +Drazk leaned over in the saddle until he could reach Linder's ear with a +loud whisper. "And she called me 'dear'; 'George dear,' she said, when I +came away." + +"The hell she did!" said Linder, at last prodded into interest. He +considered the "George dear" idea a daring flight, even for Drazk. +"Better not let old Y.D. hear you spinning anything like that, George, +or he'll be likely to spoil your youthful beauty." + +"Oh, Y.D.'s all right," said George, knowingly. "Y.D.'s all right. Well, +I guess I'll let Pete feed a bit here, and then we'll go back for his +blanket. You'll have to excuse me a bit these days, Lin; you know how it +is when a fellow's in love." + +"Huh!" said Linder. + +George dropped behind, and an amused smile played on the foreman's face. +He had known Drazk too long to be much surprised at anything he might +do. It was Drazk's idea of gallantry to make love to every girl on +sight. Possibly Drazk had managed to exchange a word with Zen, and his +imagination would readily expand that into a love scene. Zen! Even the +placid, balanced Linder felt a slight leap in the blood at the unusual +name, which to him suggested the bright girl who had come into his life +the night before. Not exactly into his life; it would be fairer to say +she had touched the rim of his life. Perhaps she would never penetrate +it further; Linder rather expected that would be the case. As +for Drazk--she was in no danger from him. Drazk's methods were so +precipitous that they could be counted upon to defeat themselves. + +Below stretched the valley of the South Y.D., almost a duplicate of its +northern neighbor. The stream hugged the feet of the hills on the north +side of the valley; its ribbon of green and gold was like a fringe +gathered about the hem of their skirts. Beyond the stream lay the level +plains of the valley, and miles to the south rose the next ridge of +foothills. It was from these interlying plains that Y.D. expected his +thousand tons of hay. There is no sleugh hay in the foothill country; +the hay is cut on the uplands, a short, fine grass of great nutritive +value. This grass, if uncut, cures in its natural state, and affords +sustenance to the herds which graze over it all winter long. But it +occasionally happens that after a snow-fall the Chinook wind will +partially melt the snow, and then a sudden drop in the temperature +leaves the prairies and foothills covered with a thin coating of ice. +It is this ice covering, rather than heavy snow-fall or severe weather, +which is the principal menace to winter grazing, and the foresighted +rancher aims to protect himself and his stock from such a contingency by +having a good reserve of hay in stack. + +Here, then, was the valley in which Y.D. hoped to supplement the crop of +his own hay lands. Linder's appreciative eye took in the scene: a scene +of stupendous sizes and magnificent distances. As he slowly turned his +vision down the valley a speck in the distance caught his sight and +brought him to his feet. Shading his eyes from the bright afternoon sun +he surveyed it long and carefully. There was no doubt about it: a haying +outfit was already at work down the valley. + +Leaving his team to manage themselves Linder dropped from his wagon and +joined Transley. "Some one has beat us to it," he remarked. + +"So I observed," said Transley. "Well, it's a big valley, and if they're +satisfied to stay where they are there should be enough for both. If +they're not--" + +"If they're not, what?" demanded Linder. + +"You heard what Y.D. said. He said, 'Cut it, spite o' hell an' high +water,' and I always obey orders." + +They wound down the hillside until they came to the stream, the horses +quickening their pace with the smell of water in their eager nostrils. +It was a good ford, broad and shallow, with the typical boulder bottom +of the mountain stream. The horses crowded into it, drinking greedily +with a sort of droning noise caused by the bits in their mouths. When +they had satisfied their thirst they raised their heads, stretched their +noses far out and champed wide-mouthed upon their bits. + +After a pause in the stream they drew out on the farther bank, where +were open spaces among cottonwood trees, and Transley indicated that +this would be their camping ground. Already smoke was issuing from the +chuck wagon, and in a few minutes the men's sleeping tent and the two +stable tents were flashing back the afternoon sun. They carried no +eating tent; instead of that an eating wagon was backed up against the +chuck wagon, and the men were served in it. They had not paused for a +midday meal; the cook had provided sandwiches of bread and roast beef +to dull the edge of their appetite, and now all were keen to fall to as +soon as the welcome clanging of the plow-colter which hung from the end +of the chuck wagon should give the signal. + +Presently this clanging filled the evening air with sweet music, and the +men filed with long, slouchy tread into the eating wagon. The table ran +down the centre, with bench seats at either side. The cook, properly +gauging the men's appetites, had not taken time to prepare meat and +potatoes, but on the table were ample basins of graniteware filled with +beans and bread and stewed prunes and canned tomatoes, pitchers of syrup +and condensed milk, tins with marmalade and jam, and plates with butter +sadly suffering from the summer heat. The cook filled their granite cups +with hot tea from a granite pitcher, and when the cups were empty filled +them again and again. And when the tables were partly cleared he brought +out deep pies filled with raisins and with evaporated apples and a +thick cake from which the men cut hunks as generous as their appetite +suggested. Transley had learned, what women are said to have learned +long ago, that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and the +cook had carte blanche. Not a man who ate at Transley's table but would +have spilt his blood for the boss or for the honor of the gang. + +The meal was nearing its end when through a window Linder's eye caught +sight of a man on horseback rapidly approaching. "Visitors, Transley," +he was able to say before the rider pulled up at the open door of the +covered wagon. + +He was such a rider as may still be seen in those last depths of the +ranching country where wheels have not entirely crowded Romance off +of horseback. Spare and well-knit, his figure had a suggestion of +slightness which the scales would have belied. His face, keen and +clean-shaven, was brown as the August hills, and above it his broad hat +sat in the careless dignity affected by the gentlemen of the plains. His +leather coat afforded protection from the heat of day and from the cold +of night. + +"Good evening, men," he said, courteously. "Don't let me disturb your +meal. Afterwards perhaps I can have a word with the boss." + +"That's me," said Transley, rising. + +"No, don't get up," the stranger protested, but Transley insisted that +he had finished, and, getting down from the wagon, led the way a little +distance from the eager ears of its occupants. + +"My name is Grant," said the stranger; "Dennison Grant. I am employed by +Mr. Landson, who has a ranch down the valley. If I am not mistaken you +are Mr. Transley." + +"You are not mistaken," Transley replied. + +"And I am perhaps further correct," continued Grant, "in surmising that +you are here on behalf of the Y.D., and propose cutting hay in this +valley?" + +"Your grasp of the situation does you credit." Transley's manner was +that of a man prepared to meet trouble somewhat more than half way. + +"And I may further surmise," continued Grant, quite unruffled, "that +Y.D. neglected to give you one or two points of information bearing upon +the ownership of this land, which would doubtless have been of interest +to you?" + +"Suppose you dismount," said Transley. "I like to look a man in the face +when I talk business to him." + +"That's fair," returned Grant, swinging lightly from his horse. "I have +a preference that way myself." He advanced to within arm's length of +Transley and for a few moments the two men stood measuring each other. +It was steel boring steel; there was not a flicker of an eyelid. + +"We may as well get to business, Grant," said Transley at length. "I +also can do some surmising. I surmise that you were sent here by Landson +to forbid me to cut hay in this valley. On what authority he acts I +neither know nor care. I take my orders from Y.D. Y.D. said cut the hay. +I am going to cut it." + +"YOU ARE NOT!" + +Transley's muscles could be seen to go tense beneath his shirt. + +"Who will stop me?" he demanded. + +"You will be stopped." + +"The Mounted Police?" There was contempt in his voice, but the contempt +was not for the Force. It was for the rancher who would appeal to the +police to settle a "friendly" dispute. + +"No, I don't think it will be necessary to call in the police," returned +Grant, dropping back to his pleasant, casual manner. "You know Y.D., +and doubtless you feel quite safe under his wing. But you don't know +Landson. Neither do you know the facts of the case--the right and wrong +of it. Under these handicaps you cannot reach a decision which is fair +to yourself and to your men." + +"Further argument is simply waste of time," Transley interrupted. "I +have told you my instructions, and I have told you that I am going to +carry them out. Have you had your supper?" + +"Yes, thanks. All right, we won't argue any more. I'm not arguing +now--I'm telling you, Y.D. has cut hay in this valley so long he thinks +he owns it, and the other ranchers began to think he owned it. But +Landson has been making a few inquiries. He finds that these are not +Crown lands, but are privately owned by speculators in New York. He has +contracted with the owners for the hay rights of these lands for five +years, beginning with the present season. He is already cutting farther +down the valley, and will be cutting here within a day or two." + +"The trout ought to bite on a fine evening like this," said Transley. "I +have an extra rod and some flies. Will you try a throw or two with me?" + +"I would be glad to, but I must get back to camp. I hope you land a good +string," and so saying Grant remounted, nodded to Transley and again to +the men now scattered about the camp, and started his horse on an easy +lope down the valley. + +"Well, what is it to be?" said Linder, coming up with the rest of the +boys. "War?" + +"War if they fight," Transley replied, unconcernedly. "Y.D. said cut the +hay; 'spite o' hell an' high water,' he said. That goes." + +Slowly the great orb of the sun sank until the crest of the mountains +pierced its molten glory and sent it burnishing their rugged heights. In +the east the plains were already wrapped in shadow. Up the valley crept +the veil of night, hushing even the limitless quiet of the day. The +stream babbled louder in the lowering gloom; the stamp and champing of +horses grew less insistent; the cloudlets overhead faded from crimson to +mauve to blue to grey. + +Transley tapped the ashes from his pipe and went to bed. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +"How about a ride over to the South Fork this afternoon, Zen?" said Y.D. +to his daughter the following morning. "I just want to make sure them +boys is hittin' the high spots. The grass is gettin' powerful dry an' +you can never tell what may happen." + +"You're on," the girl replied across the breakfast table. Her mother +looked up sharply. She wondered if the prospect of another meeting with +Transley had anything to do with Zen's alacrity. + +"I had hoped you would outgrow your slang, Zen," she remonstrated +gently. "Men like Mr. Transley are likely to judge your training by your +speech." + +"I should worry. Slang is to language what feathers are to a hat--they +give it distinction, class. They lift it out of the drab commonplace." + +"Still, I would not care to be dressed entirely in feathers," her mother +thrust quietly. + +"Good for you, Mother!" the girl exclaimed, throwing an arm about her +neck and planking a firm kiss on her forehead. "That was a solar plexus. +Now I'll try to be good and wear a feather only here and there. But Mr. +Transley has nothing to do with it." + +"Of course not," said Y.D. "Still, Transley is a man with snap in him. +That's why he's boss. So many of these ornery good-for-nothin's is +always wishin' they was boss, but they ain't willin' to pay the price. +It costs somethin' to get to the head of the herd--an' stay there." + +"He seems firm on all fours," the girl agreed. "How do we travel, and +when?" + +"Better take a democrat, I guess," her father said. "We can throw in +a tent and some bedding for you, as we'll maybe stay over a couple of +nights." + +"The blue sky is tent enough for me," Zen protested, "and I can surely +rustle a blanket or two around the camp. Besides, I'll want a riding +horse to get around with there." + +"You can run him beside the democrat," said her father. "You're gettin' +too big to go campin' promisc'us like when you was a kid." + +"That's the penalty for growing up," Zen sighed. "All right, Dad. Say +two o'clock?" + +The girl spent the morning helping her mother about the house, and +casting over in her mind the probable developments of the near future. +She would not have confessed outwardly to even a casual interest in +Transley, but inwardly she admitted that the promise of another meeting +with him gave zest to the prospect. Transley was interesting. At least +he was out of the commonplace. His bold directness had rather fascinated +her. He had a will. Her father had always admired men with a will, and +Zen shared his admiration. Then there was Linder. The fierce light of +Transley's charms did not blind her to the glow of quiet capability +which she saw in Linder. If one were looking for a husband, Linder had +much to recommend him. He was probably less capable than Transley, but +he would be easier to manage.... But who was looking for a husband? Not +Zen. No, no, certainly not Zen. + +Then there was George Drazk, whose devotions fluctuated between "that +Pete-horse" and the latest female to cross his orbit. At the thought of +George Drazk Zen laughed outright. She had played with him. She had made +a monkey of him, and he deserved all he had got. It was not the first +occasion upon which Zen had let herself drift with the tide, always +sure of justifying herself and discomfiting someone by the swift, strong +strokes with which, at the right moment, she reached the shore. Zen +liked to think of herself as careering through life in the same way as +she rode the half-broken horses of her father's range. How many such a +horse had thought that the lithe body on his back was something to race +with, toy with, and, when tired of that, fling precipitately to earth! +And not one of those horses but had found that while he might race and +toy with his rider within limitations, at the last that light body was +master, and not he.... Yet Zen loved best the horse that raced wildest +and was hardest to bring into subjection. + +That was her philosophy of life so far as a girl of twenty may have a +philosophy of life. It was to go on and see what would happen, supported +always by a quiet confidence that in any pinch she could take care of +herself. She had learned to ride and shoot, to sleep out and cook in the +open, to ride the ranges after dark by instinct and the stars--she had +learned these things while other girls of her age learned the rudiments +of fancy-work and the scales of the piano. + +Her father and mother knew her disposition, loved it, and feared for it. +They knew that there was never a rider so brave, so skilful, so strong, +but some outlaw would throw him at last. So at fourteen they sent her +east to a boarding-school. In two months she was back with a letter of +expulsion, and the boast of having blacked the eyes of the principal's +daughter. + +"They couldn't teach me any more, Mother," she said. "They admitted it. +So here I am." + +Y.D. was plainly perplexed. "It's about time you was halter-broke," he +commented, "but who's goin' to do it?" + +"If a girl has learned to read and think, what more can the schools do +for her?" she demanded. + +And Y.D., never having been to school, could not answer. + +The sun was capping the Rockies with molten gold when the rancher and +his daughter swung down the foothill slopes to the camp on the South +Y.D. Strings of men and horses returning from the upland meadows could +be seen from the hillside as they descended. + +Y.D.'s sharp eyes measured the scale of operations. + +"They're hittin' the high spots," he said, approvingly. "That boy +Transley is a hum-dinger." + +Zen made no reply. + +"I say he's a hum-dinger," her father repeated. + +The girl looked up with a quick flush of surprise. Y.D. was no puzzle to +her, and if he went out of his way to commend Transley he had a purpose. + +"Mr. Transley seems to have made a hit with you, Dad," she remarked, +evasively. + +"Well, I do like to see a man who's got the goods in him. I like a man +that can get there, just as I like a horse that can get there. I've +often wondered, Zen, what kind you'd take up with, when it came to that, +an' hoped he'd be a live crittur. After I'm dead an' buried I don't want +no other dead one spendin' my simoleons." + +"How about Mr. Linder?" said Zen, naively. + +Her father looked up sharply. "Zen," he said, "you're not serious?" + +Zen laughed. "I don't figure you're exactly serious, Dad, in your +talk about Transley. You're just feeling out. Well--let me do a little +feeling out. How about Linder?" + +"Linder's all right," Y.D. replied. "Better than the average, I admit. +But he's not the man Transley is. If he was, he wouldn't be workin' for +Transley. You can't keep a man down, Zen, if he's got the goods in him. +Linder comes up over the average, so's you can notice it, but not like +Transley does." + +Zen did not pursue the subject. She understood her father's philosophy +very well indeed, and, to a large degree, she accepted it as her own. It +was natural that a man of Y.D.'s experience, who had begun life with +no favors and had asked none since, and had made of himself a big +success--it was natural that such a man should judge all others by their +material achievements. The only quality Y.D. took off his hat to was the +ability to do things. And Y.D.'s idea of things was very concrete; it +had to do with steers and land, with hay and money and men. It was by +such things he measured success. And Zen was disposed to agree with him. +Why not? It was the only success she knew. + +Transley was greeting them as they drew into camp. + +"Glad to see you, Y.D.; honored to have a visit from you, Ma'am," he +said, as he helped them from the democrat, and gave instructions for the +care of their horses. "Supper is waiting, and the men won't be ready for +some time." + +Y.D. shook hands with Transley cordially. "Zen an' me just thought we'd +run over and see how the wind blew," he said. "You got a good spot here +for a camp, Transley. But we won't go in to supper just now. Let the +men eat first; I always say the work horses should be first at the barn. +Well, how's she goin'?" + +"Fine," said Transley, "fine," but it was evident his mind was divided. +He was glancing at Zen, who stood by during the conversation. + +"I must try and make your daughter at home," he continued. "I allow +myself the luxury of a private tent, and as you will be staying over +night I will ask you to accept it for her." + +"But I have my own tent with me, in the democrat," said Zen. "If you +will let the men pitch it under the trees where I can hear the water +murmuring in the night--" + +"Who'd have thought it, from the daughter of the practical Y.D!" +Transley bantered. "All right, Ma'am, but in the meantime take my tent. +I'll get water, and there's a basin." He already was leading the way. +"Make yourself at home--Zen. May I call you Zen?" he added, in a lower +voice, as they left Y.D. at a distance. + +"Everybody calls me Zen." + +They were standing at the door of the tent, he holding back the flap +that she might enter. The valley was already in shadow, and there was no +sunlight to play on her hair, but her face and figure in the mellow +dusk seemed entirely winsome and adorable. There was no taint of Y.D.'s +millions in the admiration that Transley bent upon her.... Of course, as +an adjunct, the millions were not to be despised. + +When the men had finished supper Transley summoned her. On the way to +the chuck-wagon she passed close to George Drazk. It was evident that +he had chosen a station with that result in view. She had passed by when +she turned, whimsically. + +"Well, George, how's that Pete-horse?" she said. + +"Up an comin' all the time, Zen," he answered. + +She bit her lip over his familiarity, but she had no come-back. She had +given him the opening, by calling him "George." + +"You see, I got quite well acquainted with Mr. Drazk when he came back +to hunt for a horse blanket which had mysteriously disappeared," she +explained to Transley. + +They ascended the steps which led from the ground into the wagon. The +table had been reset for four, and as the shadows were now heavy in the +valley, candles had been lighted. Y.D. and his daughter sat on one side, +Transley on the other. In a moment Linder entered. He had already had a +talk with Y.D., but had not met Zen since their supper together in the +rancher's house. + +"Glad to see you again, Mr. Linder," said the girl, rising and extending +her hand across the table. "You see we lost no time in returning your +call." + +Linder took her hand in a frank grasp, but could think of nothing in +particular to say. "We're glad to have you," was all he could manage. + +Zen was rather sorry that Linder had not made more of the situation. +She wondered what quick repartee, shot, no doubt, with double meaning, +Transley would have returned. It was evident that, as her father had +said, Linder was second best. And yet there was something about his +shyness that appealed to her even more than did Transley's superb +self-confidence. + +The meal was spent in small talk about horses and steers and the merits +of the different makes of mowing machines. When it was finished Transley +apologized for not offering his guests any liquor. "I never keep it +about the camp," he said. + +"Quite right," Y.D. agreed, "quite right. Booze is like fire; a valuable +thing in careful hands, but mighty dangerous when everybody gets playin' +with it. I reckon the grass is gettin' pretty dry, Transley?" + +"Mighty dry, all right, but we're taking every precaution." + +"I'm sure you are, but you can't take precautions for other people. Has +anybody been puttin' you up to any trouble here?" + +"Well, no, I can't exactly say trouble," said Transley, "but we've got +notice it's coming. A chap named Grant, foreman, I think, for Landson, +down the valley, rode over last night, and invited us not to cut any hay +hereabouts. He was very courteous, and all that, but he had the manner +of a man who'd go quite a distance in a pinch." + +"What did you tell him?" + +"Told him I was working for Y.D., and then asked him to stay for +supper." + +"Did he stay?" Zen asked. + +"He did not. He cantered off back, courteous as he came. And this +morning we went out on the job, and have cut all day, and nothing has +happened." + +"I guess he found you were not to be bluffed," said Zen, and Transley +could not prevent a flush of pleasure at her compliment. "Of course +Landson has no real claim to the hay, has he, Dad?" + +"Of course not. I reckon them'll be his stacks we saw down the valley. +Well, I'm not wantin' to rob him of the fruit of his labor, an' if +he keeps calm perhaps we'll let him have what he has cut, but if he +don't--" Y.D.'s face hardened with the set of a man accustomed to fight, +and win, his own battles. "I think we'll just stick around a day or two +in case he tries to start anythin'," he continued. + +"Well, five o'clock comes early," said Transley, "and you folks must +be tired with your long drive. We've had your tent pitched down by the +water, Zen, so that its murmurs may sing you to sleep. You see, I have +some of the poetic in me, too. Mr. Linder will show you down, and I will +see that your father is made comfortable. And remember--five o'clock +does not apply to visitors." + +The camp now lay in complete darkness, save where a lantern threw its +light from a tent by the river. Zen walked by Linder's side. Presently +she reached out and took his arm. + +"I beg your pardon," said Linder. "I should have offered--" + +"Of course you should. Mr. Transley would not have waited to be told. +Dad thinks that anything that's worth having in this world is worth +going after, and going after hard. I guess I'm Dad's daughter in more +ways than one." + +"I suppose he's right," Linder confessed, "but I've always been shy. I +get along all right with men." + +"The truth is, Mr Linder, you're not shy--you're frightened. Now I can +well believe that no man could frighten you. Consequently you get along +all right with men. Do I need to tell you the rest?" + +"I never thought of myself as being afraid of women," he replied. "It +has always seemed that they were, well, just out of my line." + +They had reached the tent but the girl made no sign of going in. In the +silence the sibilant lisp of the stream rose loud about them. + +"Mr. Linder," she said at length, "do you know why Mr. Transley sent you +down here with me?" + +"I'm sure I don't, except to show you to your tent." + +"That was the least of his purposes. He wanted to show you that he +wasn't afraid of you; and he wanted to show me that he wasn't afraid of +you. Mr. Transley is a very self-confident individual. There is such a +thing as being too self-confident, Mr. Linder, just as there is such a +thing as being too shy. Do you get me? Good night!" And with a little +rush she was in her tent. + +Linder walked slowly down to the water's edge, and stood there, +thinking, until her light went out. His brain was in a whirl with a +sensation entirely strange to it. A light wind, laden with snow-smell +from the mountains, pressed gently against his features, and presently +Linder took deeper breaths than he had ever known before. + +"By Jove!" he said. "Who'd have thought it possible?" + + + +CHAPTER V + + +When Zen awoke next morning the mowing machines of Transley's outfit +were already singing their symphony in the meadows; she could hear the +metallic rhythm as it came borne on the early breeze. She lay awake on +her camp cot for a few minutes, stretching her fingers to the canvas +ceiling and feeling that it was good to be alive. And it was. The ripple +of water came from almost underneath the walls of her tent; the smell +of spruce trees and balm-o'-Gilead and new-mown hay was in the air. She +could feel the warmth of the sunshine already pouring upon her white +roof; she could trace the gentle sway of the trees by the leafy patterns +gliding forward and back. A cheeky gopher, exploring about the door +of her tent, ventured in, and, sitting bolt upright, sent his shrill +whistle boldly forth. She watched his fine bravery for a minute, then +clapped her hands together, and laughed as he fled. + +"Therein we have the figures of both Transley and Linder," she mused +to herself. "Upright, Transley; horizontal, Linder. I doubt if the poor +fellow slept last night after the fright I gave him." Slowly and calmly +she turned the incident over in her mind. She wondered a little if she +had been quite fair with Linder. Her words and conduct were capable of +very broad interpretations. She was not at all in love with Linder; of +that Zen was very sure. She was equally sure that she was not at all in +love with Transley. She admitted that she admired Transley for his calm +assumptions, but they nettled her a little nevertheless. If this should +develop into a love affair--IF it should--she had no intention that it +was to be a pleasant afternoon's canter. It was to be a race--a race, +mind you--and may the best man win! She had a feeling, amounting almost +to a conviction, that Transley underrated his foreman's possibilities +in such a contest. She had seen many a dark horse, less promising than +Linder, gallop home with the stakes. + +Then Zen smiled her own quiet, self-confident smile, the smile which had +come down to her from Y.D. and from the Wilsons--the only family that +had ever mastered him. The idea of either Transley or Linder thinking he +could gallop home with HER! For the moment she forgot to do Linder the +justice of remembering that nothing was further from his thoughts. She +would show them. She would make a race of it--ALMOST to the wire. In the +home stretch she would make the leap, out and over the fence. She was in +it for the race, not for the finish. + +Zen contemplated for some minutes the possibilities of that race; then, +as the imagination threatened to become involved, she sprang from her +cot and thrust a cautious head through the door of her tent. The gang +had long since gone to the fields, and friendly bushes sheltered her +from view from the cook-car. She drew on her boots, shook out her hair, +threw a towel across her shoulders, and, soap in hand, walked boldly the +few steps to the stream rippling over its shiny gravel bed. She stopped +and tested the water with her fingers; then brought it in fresh, cool +handfuls about her face and neck. + +"Mornin', Zen!" said a familiar voice. "'Scuse me for happenin' to be +here. I was jus' waterin' that Pete-horse after a hard ride." + +"Now look here, Mr. Drazk!" said the girl, whipping her scanty clothing +about her, "if I had a gun that Pete-horse would be scheduled for his +fastest travel in the next twenty seconds, and he'd end it without a +rider, too. I won't have you spying about!" + +"Aw, don' be cross," Drazk protested. He was sitting on his horse in +the ford a dozen yards away. "I jus' happened along. I guess the outside +belongs to all of us. Say, Zen, if I was to get properly interduced, +what's the chances?" + +"Not one in a million, and if that isn't odds enough I'll double it." + +"You're not goin' to hitch up with Linder, are you?" + +"Linder? Who said anything about Linder?" + +"Gee, but ain't she innercent?" Drazk stepped his horse up a few feet to +facilitate conversation. "I alus take an interest in innercent gals away +from home, so I kinda kep' my angel eye on you las' night. An' I see +Linder stalkin' aroun' here an' sighin' out over the water when he +should 'ave been in bed. But, of course, he's been interduced." + +"George Drazk, if you speak to me again I'll horse-whip you out of the +camp at noon before all the men. Now, beat it!" + +"Jus' as you say, Ma'am," he returned, with mock courtesy. "But I could +tell a strange story if I would. But you don't need to be scared. That's +one thing I never do--I never squeal on a friend." + +She was burning with his insults, and if she had had a gun at hand she +undoubtedly would have made good her threat. But she had none. Drazk +very deliberately turned his horse and rode away toward the meadows. + +"Oh, won't I fix him!" she said, as she continued her toilet in a fury. +She had not the faintest idea what revenge she would take, but she +promised herself that it would leave nothing to be desired. Then, +because she was young and healthy and an optimist, and did not know +what it meant to be afraid, she dismissed the incident from her mind to +consider the more urgent matter of breakfast. + +Tompkins, the cook, had not needed Transley's suggestion to put his +best foot forward when catering to Y.D. and his daughter. Tompkins' soul +yearned for a cooking berth that could be occupied the year round. +Work in the railway camps had always left him high and dry at the +freeze-up--dry, particularly, and a few nights in Calgary or Edmonton +saw the end of his season's earnings. Then came a precarious existence +for Tompkins until the scrapers were back on the dump the following +spring. A steady job, cooking on a ranch like the Y.D.; if Tompkins had +written the Apocalypse that would have been his picture of heaven. So he +had left nothing undone, even to despatching a courier over night to a +railway station thirty miles away for fresh fruit and other delicacies. +Another of the gang had been impressed into a trip up the river to a +squatter who was suspected of keeping one or two milch cows and sundry +hens. + +"This way, Ma'am," Tompkins was waving as Zen emerged from the grove. +"Another of our usual mornings. Hope you slep' well, Ma'am." He stood +deferentially aside while she ascended the three steps that led into the +covered wagon. + +Zen gave a little shriek of delight, and Tompkins felt that all his +efforts had been well repaid. One end of the table--it was with a +sore heart Tompkins had realized that he could not cut down the big +table--one end of the table was set with a clean linen cloth and granite +dishware scoured until it shone. Beside Zen's plate were grape fruit and +sliced oranges and real cream. + +"However did you manage it?" she gasped. + +"Nothing's too good for Y.D.'s daughter," was the only explanation +Tompkins would offer, but, as Zen afterwards said, the smile on his face +was as good as another breakfast. After the fruit came porridge, +and more cream; then fresh boiled eggs with toast; then fresh ripe +strawberries with more cream. + +"Mr.--Mr.--" + +"Tompkins, Ma'am; Cyrus Tompkins," he supplied. + +"Well, Mr. Tompkins, you're a wonder, and when there's a new cook to be +engaged for the Y.D. I shall think of you." + +"Indeed I wish you would, Ma'am," he said, earnestly. "This road +work's all right, and nobody ever cooked for a better boss than Mr. +Transley--savin' it would be your father, Ma'am--but I'm a man of +family, an' it's pretty hard--" + +"Family, did you say, Mr. Tompkins? How many of a family have you?" + +"Well, it's seven years since I heard from them--I haven't corresponded +very reg'lar of late, but they WAS six--" + +The story of Tompkins' family was cut short by the arrival of a team and +mowing machine. + +"What's up, Fred?" called Tompkins through a window of his dining car to +the driver. "Breakfust is just over, an' dinner ain't begun." + +For answer the man addressed as Fred slowly produced an iron stake about +eighteen inches long and somewhat less than an inch in diameter. + +"What kind of shrubbery do you call that, Tompkins?" he demanded. + +"Well, it ain't buffalo grass, an' it ain't brome grass, an' I don't +figger it's alfalfa," said Tompkins, meditatively. + +"No, and it ain't a grub-stake," Fred replied, with some sarcasm. "It's +a iron stake, growin' right in a nice little clump of grass, and I run +on to it and bust my cuttin'-bar all to--that is, all to pieces," he +completed rather lamely, taking Zen into his glance. + +"I think I follow you," she said, with a smile. "Can you fix it here?" + +"Nope. Have to go to town for a new one. Two days' lost time, when every +hour counts. Hello! Here comes someone else." + +Another of the teamsters was drawing into camp. "Hello, Fred!" he said, +upon coming up with his fellow workman, "you in too? I had a bit of +bad luck. I run smash on to an iron stake right there in the ground and +crumpled my knife like so much soap." + +"I did worse," said Fred, with a grin. "I bust my cuttin'-bar." + +The two men exchanged a steady glance for half a minute. Then the +new-comer gave vent to a long, low whistle. + +"So that's the way of it," he said. "That's the kind of war Mr. Landson +makes. Well, we can fight back with the same weapons, but that won't cut +the hay, will it?" + +By this time Y.D. and Transley, with four other teamsters, were observed +coming in. Each driver had had the same experience. An iron stake, +carefully hidden in a clump of grass, had been driven down into the +ground until it was just high enough to intercept the cutting-bar. The +fine, sharp knives were crumpled against it; in some cases the heavy +cutting-bar, in which the knives operate, was damaged. + +Y.D.'s face was black with fury. + +"That's the lowest, mangyest, cowardliest trick I ever had pulled on +me," he was saying. "I'm plumb equal to ridin' down to Landson's an' +drivin' one of them stakes through under his short ribs." + +"But can you prove that Landson did it?" said Zen, who had an element +of caution in her when her father was concerned. She had a vision of +a fight, with Landson pleading entire ignorance of the whole cause of +offence, and her father probably summoned by the police for unprovoked +assault. + +"No, I can't prove that Landson did it, an' I can't prove that the grass +my steers eat turns to hair on their backs," he retorted, "but I reach +my own conclusions. Is there any shootin' irons in the place?" + +"Now, Dad, that's enough," said the girl, firmly. "There'll be no +shooting between you and Landson. If there is to be anything of that +kind I'll ride down ahead and warn him of what's coming." + +"Darter," said Y.D.--it was only on momentous occasions that he +addressed her as daughter--"I brought you over here as a guest, not +as manager o' my affairs. I've taken care of those affairs for some +considerable years, an' I reckon I still have the qualifications. If +you're a-goin' to act up obstrep'rous I'll get Mr. Transley to lend me a +man to escort you home." + +"At your service, Y.D.," said George Drazk, who was in the crowd which +had gathered about the rancher, his daughter, and Transley. "That +Pete-horse an' me would jus' see her over the hills a-whoopin'." + +"I don't think it would be wise to take any extreme measures, at least, +not just yet," said Transley. "It's out of the question to suppose that +Landson has picketed the whole valley with those stakes. It is now quite +clear why we were left in peace yesterday. He wanted us to get started, +and get a few swaths cut, so that he would know where to drive the +stakes to catch us the next morning. Some of these machines can be +repaired at once, and the others within a day or two. We will just move +over a little and start on new fields. There's pretty good moonlight +these nights and we'll leave a few men out on guard, and perhaps we can +catch the enemy at his little game. Let us get one of Landson's men with +the goods on him." + +Y.D. was somewhat pacified by this suggestion. "You're a practical +devil, Transley," he said, with considerable admiration. "Now, in a case +of this kind I jus' get plumb fightin' mad. I want to bore somebody. +I guess it's the only kind o' procedure that comes easy to my hand. I +guess you're right, but I hate to let anybody have the laugh on me." +Y.D. looked down the valley, shading his eyes with his hand. "That +son-of-a-gun has got a dozen or more stacks down there. I don't wish +nobody any hard luck, but if some tenderfoot was to drop a cigar--" + +"In that case I suppose you'd pray for a west wind, Dad," Zen suggested, +"but the winds in these valleys, even with your prayers to direct them, +are none too reliable." + +"Everybody to work on fixing up these machines," Transley ordered. +"Linder, make a list of what repairs are needed and Drazk will ride to +town with it at once. Some of them may have to come out from the city by +express. Drazk can get the orders in and a team will follow to bring out +the repairs." + +In a moment Transley's men were busy with wrenches and hammers, +replacing knives and appraising damages. Even in his anger Y.D. took +approving note of the promptness of Transley's decisions and the zest +with which his men carried them into effect. + +"A he-man, that fellow, Zen," he confided to his daughter, "If he'd +blowed into this country thirty years ago, like I did, he'd own it by +this time plumb to the sky-line." + +When the list of repairs was completed Linder handed it to Drazk. + +"Beat it to town on that Pete-horse of yours, George," he said. "Burn +the grass on the road." + +"I bet I'll be ten miles on the road back when I meet my shadow goin'," +said Drazk, making a spectacular leap into his saddle. "Bye, Y.D!; bye, +Zen!" he shouted while he whirled his horse's head eastward and waved +his hand to where they stood. In spite of her annoyance at him she had +to smile and return his salute. + +"Mr. Drazk is irrepressible," she remarked to Transley. + +"And irresponsible," the contractor returned. "I sometimes wonder why I +keep him. In fact, I don't really keep him; he just stays. Every spring +he hunts me up and fastens on. Still, I get a lot of good service out +of him. Praise 'that Pete-horse,' and George would ride his head off for +you. He has a weakness for wanting to marry every woman he sees, but his +infatuations seem harmless enough." + +"I know something of his weakness," Zen replied. "I have already been +honored with a proposal." + +Transley looked in her face. It was slightly flushed, whether with the +summer sun or with her confession, but it was a wonderfully good face to +look in. + +"Zen," he said, in a low voice that Y.D. and the others might not hear, +"how would you take a serious proposal, made seriously by one who loves +you, and who knows that you are, and always will be, a queen among +women?" + +"If you had been a cow puncher instead of a contractor," she told him, +"I'm sure you would long ago have ended your life in some dash over a +cutbank." + +Meanwhile Drazk pursued his way to town. The trail, after crossing the +ford, turned abruptly to the right from that which led across country to +the North Y.D. For a mile or more it skirted the stream in a park-like +drive through groves of spruce and cottonwood. Sunshine and the babble +of water everywhere filled the air. Sunshine, too, filled George Drazk's +heart. The importance of his mission was pleasantly heavy upon him. He +pictured the impression he would make in town, galloping in with his +horse wet over the back, and rushing to the implement agency with all +the importance of a courier from Y.D. He would let two of the boys take +Pete to the stable, and then, seated on a mower seat in the shade, he +would tell the story. It would lose nothing in the telling. He would +even add how Zen had thrown a kiss at him in parting. Perhaps he would +have Zen kiss him on the cheek before the whole camp. He turned that +possibility over in his mind, weighing nicely the credulity of his +imaginary audience.... At any rate, whether he decided to put that in +the story or not, it was very pleasant to think about. + +Presently the trail turned abruptly up a gully leading into the hills. +A huge cutbank, jutting into the river, barred the way in front, and +its precipitous side, a hundred feet or more in height, kept continually +crumbling and falling into the stream. These cutbanks are a terror to +inexperienced riders. The valleys are swallowed up in the tawny sameness +of the ranges; the vision catches only the higher levels, and one +may gallop to the verge of a precipice before becoming aware of +its existence. It was to this that Zen had referred in speaking of +Transley's precipitateness. + +Drazk followed the gully up into the hills, letting his horse drop back +to a walk in the hard going along the dry bed of a stream which flowed +only in the spring freshets. Pete had to pick his way over boulders and +across stretches of sand and boggy patches of black mud formed by little +springs leaking out under clumps of willows. Here and there the white +ribs of a steer's skeleton peered through the brush; once or twice an +overpowering stench gave notice of a carcass not wholly decomposed. + +It was not a pleasant environment, but in an hour Drazk was out again +on the brow of the brown hills, where the sunshine flooded about and a +fresh breeze beat up against his face. After all his winding about in +the gully he was not more than a mile from the cutbank. + +"I reckon I could get a great view from that cutbank of what Landson +is doin'," he suddenly remarked to himself. He took off his hat and +scratched his tousled head in reflection. "Linder said to beat it," he +ruminated, "but I can't get back to-night anyway, an' it might be worth +while to do a little scoutin'. Here goes!" + +He struck a smart gallop to the southward, and brought his horse up, +spectacularly, a yard from the edge of the precipice. The view which +his position commanded was superb. Up the valley lay the white tents of +Transley's outfit, almost hidden in green foliage; the ford across the +river was distinctly visible, and stretching south from it lay, like a +great curving snake, the trail which wound across the valley and lost +itself in the foothills far to the south; across the western horizon +hung the purple curtain of the mountains, soft and vague in their +noonday mists, but touched with settings of ivory where the snow fields +beat back the blazing sunshine; far down the valley was the gleam of +Landson's whitewashed buildings, and nearer at hand the greenish-brown +of the upland meadows which his haymakers had already cleared of their +crop of prairie wool. This was now arising in enormous stacks; it must +have been three miles to where they lay, but Drazk's keen eyes could +distinguish ten completed stacks and two others in course of building. +He could even see the sweeps hauling the new hay, after only a few hours +of sun-drying, and sliding it up the inclined platforms which dumped it +into the form of stacks. The foothill rancher makes hay by horse power, +and almost without the aid of a pitch-fork. Even as Drazk watched he +saw a load skidded up; saw its apparent momentary poise in air; saw +the well-trained horses stop and turn and start back to the meadow with +their sweep. And up the valley Transley's outfit was at a standstill. + +Drazk employed his limited but expressive vocabulary. It was against +all human nature to look on such a scene unmoved. He recalled Y.D.'s +half-spoken wish about a random cigar. Then suddenly George Drazk's +mouth dropped open and his eyes rounded with a great idea. + +Of course, it was against all the rules of the range--it was outlaw +business--but what about driving iron stakes in a hay meadow? Drazk's +philosophy was that the end justifies the means. And if the end would +win the approval of Y.D.--and of Y.D.'s daughter--then any means was +justified. Had not Linder said, "Burn the grass on the road?" Drazk +knew well enough that Linder's remark was a figure of speech, but +his eccentric mind found no trouble in converting it into literal +instructions. + +Drazk sniffed the air and looked at the sun. A soft breeze was moving +slowly up the valley; the sun was just past noon. There was every reason +to expect that as the lowland prairies grew hot with the afternoon +sunshine a breeze would come down out of the mountains to occupy the +area of great atmospheric expansion. Drazk knew nothing about the theory +of the thing; all that concerned him was the fact that by mid-afternoon +the wind would probably change to the west. + +Two miles down the valley he found a gully which gave access to the +water's edge. He descended, located a ford, and crossed. There were +cattle-trails through the cottonwoods; he might have followed them, but +he feared the telltale shoe-prints. He elected the more difficult route +down the stream itself. The South Y.D. ran mostly on a wide gravel +bottom; it was possible to pick out a course which kept Pete in water +seldom higher than his knees. An hour of this, and Drazk, peering +through the trees, could see the nearest of Landson's stacks not half +a mile away. The Landson gang were working farther down the valley, and +the stack itself covered approach from the river. + +Drazk slipped from the saddle, and stole quietly into the open. The +breeze was now coming down the valley. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Transley's men had repaired such machines as they could and returned to +work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the valley; the horses were +speeded up to recover lost time. Transley and Y.D. rode about, carefully +scrutinizing the short grass for iron stakes, and keeping a general eye +on operations. + +Suddenly Transley sat bolt-still on his horse. Then, in a low voice, + +"Y.D!" he said. + +The rancher turned and followed the line of Transley's vision. The +nearest of Landson's stacks was ablaze, and a great pillar of smoke was +rolling skyward. Even as they watched, the base of the fire seemed to +spread; then, in a moment, tongues of flame were seen leaping from a +stack farther on. + +"Looks like your prayers were answered, Y.D.," said Transley. "I bet +they haven't a plow nearer than the ranch." + +Y.D. seemed fascinated by the sight. He could not take his eyes off +it. He drew a cigar from his pocket and thrust it far into his mouth, +chewing it savagely and rolling it in his lips, but, according to the +law of the hayfield, refraining from lighting it. At first there was a +gleam of vengeance in his eyes, but presently that gave way to a sort of +horror. Every honorable tradition of the range demanded that he enlist +his force against the common enemy. + +"Hell, Transley!" he ejaculated, "we can't sit and look at that! Order +the men out! What have we got to fight with?" + +For answer Transley swung round in his saddle and struck his palm into +Y.D.'s. + +"Good boy, Y.D!" he said. "I did you an injustice--I mean, about your +prayers being answered. We haven't as much as a plow, either, but we can +gallop down with some barrels in a wagon and put a sack brigade to +work. I'm afraid it won't save Landson's hay, but it will show where our +hearts are." + +Transley and Y.D. galloped off to round up the men, some of whom had +already noticed the fire. Transley despatched four men and two teams +to take barrels, sacks, and horse blankets to the Landson meadows. The +others he sent off at once on horseback to give what help they could. + +Zen rode up just as they left, and already her fine horse seemed to +realize the tension in the air. His keen, hard-strung muscles quivered +as she brought his gallop to a stop. + +"How did it start, Dad?" she demanded. + +"How do I know?" he returned, shortly. "D'ye think I fired it?" + +"No, but I just asked the question that Landson will ask, so you better +have your answer handy. I'm going to gallop down to their ranch; perhaps +I can help Mrs. Landson." + +"The ranch buildings are safe enough, I think," said Transley. "The +grass there is close cropped, and there is some plowing." + +For a moment the three sat, watching the spread of the flames. By this +time the whole lower valley was blanketed in smoke. Clouds of blue and +mauve and creamy yellow rolled from the meadows and stacks. The fire was +whipping the light breeze of the afternoon to a gale, and was already +running wildly over the flanks of the foothills. + +"Well, I'm off," said Zen. "Good-bye!" + +"Be careful, Zen!" her father shouted. "Fire is fire." But already her +horse was stretching low and straight in a hard gallop down the valley. + +"I'll ride in to camp and tell Tompkins to make up a double supply of +sandwiches and coffee," said Transley. "I guess there'll be no cooking +in Landson's outfit this afternoon. After that we can both run down and +lend a hand, if that suits you." + +As they rode to camp together Y.D. drew up close to the contractor. +"Transley," he said, "how do you reckon that fire started?" + +"I don't know," said Transley, "any more than you do." + +"I didn't ask you what you KNEW. I asked you what you reckoned." + +Transley rode for some minutes in silence. Then at last he spoke: + +"A man isn't supposed to reckon in things of this kind. He should know, +or keep his mouth shut. But I allow myself just one guess. Drazk." + +"Why Drazk?" Y.D. demanded. "He has nothin' to gain, and this prank may +put him in the cooler." + +"Drazk would do anything to be spectacular," Transley explained. "He +probably will boast openly about it. You know, he's trying to make an +impression on Zen." + +"Nonsense!" + +"Of course it's nonsense, but Drazk doesn't see it that way." + +"I'd string him to the nearest cottonwood if I thought he--" + +"Now don't do him an injustice, Y.D. Drazk doesn't realize that he is +no mate for Zen. He doesn't know of any reason why Zen shouldn't look on +him with favor; indeed, with pride. It's ridiculous, I know, but Drazk +is built that way." + +"Then I'll change his style of architecture the first time I run into +him," said Y.D. savagely. "Zen is too young to think of such a thing, +anyway." + +"She will always be too young to think of such a thing, so far as Drazk +or his type is concerned," Transley returned. "But suppose--Y.D., to be +quite frank, suppose _I_ suggested--" + +"Transley, you work quick," said Y.D. "I admit I like a quick worker. +But just now we have a fire on our hands." + +By this time they had reached the camp. Transley gave his instructions +in a few words, and then turned to ride down to Landson's. They had gone +only a few hundred yards when Y.D. pulled his horse to a stop. + +"Transley!" he exclaimed, and his voice was shaking. "What do you +smell?" + +The contractor drew up and sniffed the air. When he turned to Y.D. his +face was white. + +"Smoke, Y.D!" he gasped. "The wind has changed!" + +It was true. Already low clouds of smoke were drifting overhead like a +broken veil. The erratic foothill wind, which a few minutes before had +been coming down the valley, was now blowing back up again. Even while +they took in the situation they could feel the hot breath of the distant +fire borne against their faces. + +"Well, it's up to us," said Transley tersely. "We'll make a fight of it. +Got any speed in that nag of yours?" Without waiting for an answer he +put spurs to his horse and set forward on a wild gallop into the smoke. + +A mile down the line he found that Linder had already gathered his +forces and laid out a plan of defence. The valley, from the South Y.D. +to the hills, was about four miles wide, and up the full breadth of +it was now coming the fire from Landson's fields. There was no natural +fighting line; Linder had not so much as a buffalo path to work against. +But he was already starting back-fires at intervals of fifty yards, +allotting three men to each fire. A back-fire is a fire started for the +purpose of stopping another. Usually a road, or a plowed strip, or even +a cattle path, is used for a base. On the windward side of this base the +back-fire is started and allowed to eat its way back against the wind +until it meets the main fire which is rushing forward with the wind, and +chokes it out for lack of fuel. A few men, stationed along a furrow or a +trail, can keep the small back-fire from jumping it, although they would +be powerless to check the momentum of the main fire. + +This was Linder's position, except that he had no furrow to work +against. All he could do was tell off men with sacks and horse blankets +soaked in the barrels of water to hold the back-fire in check as best +they could. So far they were succeeding. As soon as the fire had burned +a few feet the forward side of it was pounded out with wet sacks. It +didn't matter about the other side. It could be allowed to eat back as +far as it liked; the farther the better. + +"Good boy, Lin!" Transley shouted, as he drew up and surveyed +operations. "She played us a dirty trick, didn't she?" + +Linder looked up, red-eyed and coughing. "We can hold it here," he said, +"but we can never cross the valley. The fire will be on us before we +have burned a mile. It will beat around our south flank and lick up +everything!" + +Transley jumped from his horse. He seized Linder in his arms and +literally threw him into the saddle. "You're played, boy!" he shouted in +his foreman's ear. "Ride down to the river and get into the water, and +stay there until you know we can win!" + +Then Transley threw himself into the fight. As the men said afterwards, +Linder fought like a wildcat, but Transley fought like a den of lions. +When the wagon galloped up from the river with barrels of water Transley +seized a barrel at the end and set it bodily on the ground. He sprang +into the wagon, shouting commands to horses and men. A hundred yards +they galloped along the fighting front; then Transley sprang out and set +another barrel on the ground. In this way, instead of having the men all +coming to the wagon to wet their sacks, he distributed water along the +line. Then they turned back, picked up the empty barrels, and galloped +to the river for a fresh supply. + +Soon they had the first mile secure. The backfires had all met; the +forward line of flames had all been pounded out; the rear line had +burned back until there was no danger of it jumping the burned space. +Then Transley picked up his kit and rushed it on to a new front farther +south. At intervals of a hundred yards he started fires, holding them in +check and beating out the western edge as before. + +But his difficulties were increasing. He was farther from the river. +It took longer to get water. One of the barrels fell off and collapsed. +Some of the men were playing out. The horses were wild with excitement +and terror. The smoke was growing denser and hotter. Men were coughing +and gasping through dry, seared lips. + +"You can't hold it, Transley; you can't hold it!" said one of the men. + +Transley hit him from the shoulder. He crumpled up and collapsed. + +A mile and a half had been made safe, but the smoke was suffocatingly +thick and the roar of the oncoming fire rose above the shouts of the +fighters. Up galloped the water wagon; made a sharp lurch and turn, +and a front wheel collapsed with the shock. The wagon went down at one +corner and the barrels were dumped on the ground. + +The men looked at Transley. For one moment he surveyed the situation. + +"Is there a chain?" he demanded. There was. + +"Hitch on to the tire of this broken wheel. Some of you men yank the hub +out of it. Others pull grass. Pull, like hell was after you!" + +They pulled. In a minute or two Transley had the rim of the wheel flat +on the ground, with a team hitched to it and a little pile of dry grass +inside. Then he set fire to the little pile of grass and started the +team slowly along the battle front. As they moved the burning grass in +the rim set fire to the grass on the prairie underneath; the rim partly +rubbed it out again as it came over, and the men were able to keep what +remained in check, but as he lengthened his line Transley had to leave +more and more men to beat out the fire, and had fewer to pull grass. +The sacks were too wet to burn; he had to have grass to feed his moving +fire-spreader. + +At length he had only a teamster and himself, and his fire was going +out. Transley whipped off his shirt, rolled it into a little heap, +set fire to it, and ran along beside the rim, firing the little moving +circle of grass inside. + +It was the teamster, looking back, who saw Transley fall. He had to drop +the lines to run to his assistance, and the horses, terrified by smoke +and fire and the excitement of the fight, immediately bolted. The +teamster took Transley in his arms and half carried, half dragged him +into the safe area behind the backfires. And a few minutes later the +main fire, checked on its front, swept by on the flank and raced on up +through the valley. + +In riding down to the assistance of Mrs. Landson Zen found herself +suddenly caught in an eddy of smoke. She did not realize at the moment +that the wind had turned; she thought she must have ridden into the fire +area. To avoid the possibility of being cut off by the fire, and also +for better air, she turned her horse to the river. All through the +valley were billows of smoke, with here and there a reddish-yellow +glare marking the more vicious sections of flame. Vaguely, at times, she +thought she caught the shouting of men, but all the heavens seemed full +of roaring. + +When Zen reached the water the smoke was hanging low on it, and she +drove her horse well in. Then she swung down the stream, believing that +by making a detour in this way she could pass the wedge of fire that had +interrupted her and get back on to the trail leading to Landson's. +She was coughing with the smoke, but rode on in the confidence that +presently it would lift. + +It did. A whip of wind raised it like a strong arm throwing off a +blanket. She sat up and breathed freely. The hot sun shone through rifts +in the canopy of smoke; the blue sky looked down serene and unmoved by +this outburst of the elements. Then as Zen brought her eyes back to +the water she saw a man on horseback not forty yards ahead. Her first +thought was that it must be one of the fire fighters, driven like +herself to safety, but a second glance revealed George Drazk. For +a moment she had an impulse to wheel and ride out, but even as she +smothered that impulse a tinge of color rose in her cheeks that she +should for a moment have entertained it. To let George Drazk think she +was afraid of him would be utmost humiliation. + +She continued straight down the stream, but he had already seen her and +was headed her way. In the excitement of what he had just done Drazk was +less responsible than usual. + +"Hello, Zen!" he said. "Mighty decent of you to ride down an' meet me +like this. Mighty decent, Zen!" + +"I didn't ride down to meet you, Drazk, and you know it. Keep out of the +way or I'll use a whip on you!" + +"Oh, how haughty! Y.D. all over! Never mind, dear, I like you all the +better for that. Who wants a tame horse? An' as for comin' down to meet +me, what's the odds, so long as we've met?" + +He had turned his horse and blocked the way in front of her. When Zen's +horse came within reach Drazk caught him by the bridle. + +"Will you let go?" the girl said, speaking as calmly as she could, but +in a white passion. "Will you let go of that bridle, or shall I make +you?" + +He looked her full in the face. "Gad, but you're a stunner!" he +exclaimed. "I'm glad we met--here." + +She brought her whip with a biting cut around the wrist that held her +bridle. Drazk winced, but did not let go. + +"Jus' for that, young Y.D.," he hissed, "jus' for that we drop all +formalities, so to speak." + +With a dexterous spurring he brought his horse alongside and threw an +arm about Zen before she could beat him off. She used her whip at short +range on his face, but had not arm-room in which to land a blow. They +were stirrup-deep in water, and as they struggled the horses edged in +deeper still. Finding that she could not beat Drazk off Zen clutched +her saddle and drove the spurs into her horse. At this unaccustomed +treatment he plunged wildly forward, but Drazk's grip on her was too +strong to be broken. The manoeuvre had, however, the effect of unhorsing +Drazk. He fell in the water, but kept his grip on Zen. With his free +hand he still had the reins of his own horse, and he managed also to +get hold of hers. Although her horse was plunging and jumping, Drazk's +strong grip on his rein kept him from breaking away. + +"You fight well, Zen, damn you--you fight well," he cried. "So you +might. You played with me--you made a fool of me. We'll see who's the +fool in the end." With a mighty wrench he tore her from her saddle and +she found herself struggling with him in the water. + +"If I put you under for a minute I guess you'll be good," he threatened. +"I'll half drown you, Zen, if I have to." + +"Go ahead," she challenged. "I'll drown myself, if I have to." + +"Not just yet, Zen; not just yet. Afterwards you can do as you like." + +In their struggles they had been getting gradually into deeper water. At +this moment they found their feet carried free, and the horses began +to swim for the shore. Drazk held to both reins with one hand, still +clutching his victim with the other. More than once they went under +water together and came up half choking. + +Zen was not a good swimmer, but she would gladly have broken away and +taken chances with the current. Once on land she would be at his mercy. +She was using her head frantically, but could think of no device to foil +him. It was not her practice to carry weapons; her whip had already gone +down the stream. Presently she saw a long leather thong floating out +from the saddle of Drazk's horse. It was no larger than a whiplash; +apparently it was a spare lace which Drazk carried, and which had worked +loose in the struggle. It was floating close to Drazk. + +"Don't let me sink, George!" she cried frantically, in sudden fright. +"Save me! I won't fight any more." + +"That's better," he said, drawing her up to him. "I knew you'd come to +your senses." + +Her hand reached the lash. With a quick motion of the arm, such as is +given in throwing a rope, she had looped it once around his neck. Then, +pulling the lash violently, she fought herself out of his grip. He +clutched at her wildly, but could reach only some stray locks of her +brown hair which had broken loose and were floating on the water. + +She saw his eyes grow round and big and horrified; saw his mouth open +and refuse to close; heard strange little gurgles and chokings. But she +did not let go. + +"When you insulted me this morning I promised to settle with you; I did +not expect to have the chance so soon." + +His head had gone under water.... Suddenly she realized that he was +drowning. She let go of the thong, clutched her horse's tail, and was +pulled quickly ashore. + +Sitting on the gravel, she tried to think. Drazk had disappeared; his +horse had landed somewhat farther down.... Doubtless Drazk had drowned. +Yes, that would be the explanation. Why change it? + +Zen turned it over in her mind. Why make any explanations? It would be +a good thing to forget. She could not have done otherwise under the +circumstances; no jury would expect her to do otherwise. But why trouble +a jury about it? + +"He got what was coming to him," she said to herself presently. She +admitted no regret. On the contrary, her inborn self-confidence, her +assurance that she could take care of herself under any circumstances, +seemed to be strengthened by the experience. + +She got up, drew her hair into some kind of shape, and scrambled a +little way up the steep bank. Clouds of smoke were rolling up the +valley. She did not grasp the significance of the fact at the first +glance, but in a moment it impacted home to her. The wind had changed! +Her help now would be needed, not by Mrs. Landson, but probably at their +own camp. She sprang on her horse, re-crossed the stream, and set out on +a gallop for the camp. On the way she had to ride through one thin line +of fire, which she accomplished successfully. Through the smoke she +could dimly see Transley's gang fighting the back-fires. She knew that +was in good hands, and hastened on to the camp. Zen had had prairie +experience enough to know that in hours like this there is almost sure +to be something or somebody, in vital need, overlooked. + +She galloped into the camp and found only Tompkins there. He had already +run a little back-fire to protect the tents and the chuck-wagon. + +"How goes it, Tompkins?" she cried, bursting upon him like a courier +from battle. + +"All set here, Ma'am," he answered. "All set an' safe. But they'll never +hold the main fire; it'll go up the valley hell-scootin',--beggin' your +pardon, Ma'am." + +"Anyone live up the valley?" + +"There is. There's the Lints--squatters about six miles up--it was +from them I got the cream an' fresh eggs you was good enough to notice, +Ma'am. An' there's no men folks about; jus' Mrs. Lint an' a young herd +of little Lints; least, that's all was there las' night." + +"I must go up," said Zen, with instant decision. "I can get there before +the fire, and as the Lints are evidently farmers there will be some +plowed land, or at least a plow with which to run a furrow so that we +can start a back-fire. Direct me." + +Tompkins directed her as to the way, and, leaving a word of explanation +to be passed on to her father, she was off. A half hour's hard riding +brought her to Lint's, but she found that this careful settler had made +full provision against such a contingency as was now come about. The +farm buildings, implements, stables, everything was surrounded, not by a +fire-guard, but by a broad plowed field. Mrs. Lint, however, was little +less thankful for Zen's interest than she would have been had their +little steading been in danger. She pressed Zen to wait and have at +least a cup of tea, and the girl, knowing that she could be of little +or no service down the valley, allowed herself to be persuaded. In this +little harbor of quiet her mind began to arrange the day's events. The +tragic happening at the river was as yet too recent to appear real; had +it not been for the touch of her wet clothing Zen could have thought +that all an unhappy dream of days ago. She reflected that neither +Tompkins nor Mrs. Lint had commented upon her appearance. The hot sun +had soon dried her outer apparel, and her general dishevelled condition +was not remarkable on such a day as this. + +The wind had gone down as the afternoon waned, and the fire was working +up the valley leisurely when Zen set out on her return trip. A couple of +miles from the Lint homestead she met its advance guard. It was evening +now; the sun shone dull red through the banked clouds of smoke resting +against the mountains to the west; the flames danced and flickered, +advanced and receded, sprang up and died down again, along mile after +mile of front. It was a beautiful thing to behold, and Zen drew her +horse to a stop on a hill-top to take in the grandeur of the scene. Near +at hand frolicking flames were working about the base of the hill, +and far down the valley and over the foothills the flanks of the fire +stretched like lines of impish infantry in single file. + +Suddenly she heard the sound of hoofs, and a rider drew up at her side. +She supposed him one of Transley's men, but could not recall having seen +him in the camp. He sat his horse with an ease and grace that her eye +was quick to appraise; he removed his broad felt hat before he spoke; +and he did not call her "ma'am." + +"Pardon me--I believe I am speaking to Y.D.'s daughter?" he asked, and +before waiting for a reply hastened to introduce himself. "My name is +Dennison Grant, foreman on the Landson ranch." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I thought--I thought you were one of Mr. +Transley's men." Then, with a quick sense of the barrier between them, +she added, "I hope you don't think that I--that we--had anything to do +with this?" She indicated the ruined valley with her hand. + +"No more than I had to do with those coward's stakes," he answered. +"Neither of us understand just now, but can we take that much for +granted?" + +There was something about him that rather appealed to her. "I think we +can," she said, simply. + +For a moment they watched the kaleidoscopic scene below them. "It may +help you to understand," she continued, "if I say that I was riding down +to see if I could be of some use to Mrs. Landson when the wind changed, +and I saw I would be more likely to be needed here." + +"And it may help you to understand," he said, "if I say that as soon as +immediate danger to the Landson ranch was over I rode up to Transley's +camp. Only the cook was there, and he told me of your having set out +to help Mrs. Lint, so I followed up. Fortunately the fire has lost its +punch; it will probably go out through the night." + +There was a short silence, in which she began to realize her peculiar +position. This man was the rival of Transley and Linder in the business +of hay-cutting in the valley. He was the foreman of the Landson +crowd--Landson, against whom her father had been voicing something very +near to murder threats not many hours ago. Had she met him before the +fire she would have spurned and despised him, but nothing unites the +factions of man like a fight against a common elemental enemy. Besides, +there was the question, How DID the fire start? That was a question +which every Landson man would be asking. Grant had been generous about +it; he had asked her to be equally generous about the episode of the +stakes.... And there was something about the man that appealed to her. +She had never felt that way about Transley or Linder. She had been +interested in them; amused, perhaps; out for an adventure, perhaps; but +this man--Nonsense! It was the environment--the romantic setting. As for +Drazk--A quick sense of horror caught her as the memory of his choking +face protruded into her consciousness.... + +"Well, suppose we ride home," he suggested. "By Jove! The fire has +worked around us." + +It was true. The hill on which they stood was now entirely surrounded +by a ring of fire, eating slowly up the side. The warmth of its breath +already pressed against their faces; the funnel effect created by the +circle of fire was whipping up a stronger draught. The smoke seemed to +be gathering to a centre above them. + +He swung up close to her. "Will your horse face it?" he asked. "If not, +we'd better blindfold him." + +"I'll try him," she said. "He was all right this afternoon, but he was +reckless then with a hard gallop." + +Zen's horse trotted forward at her urging to within a dozen yards of the +circle of fire. Then he stopped, snorting and shivering. She rode back +up the hill. + +"Better blindfold him," Grant advised, pulling off his leather coat. "A +sleeve of my shirt should be about right. Will you cut it off?" + +She protested. + +"There's no time to lose," he reminded her, as he placed his knife in +her hand. "My horse will go through it all right." + +So urged she deftly cut off his sleeve above the elbow and drew it +through the bridle of her horse across his eyes. + +"Now keep your head down close to his neck. You'll go through all right. +Give him the spurs, and good luck!" he shouted. + +She was already careering down the hillside. A few paces from the fire +the horse plunged into a badger hole and fell headlong. She went over +his head, down, with a terrific shock, almost in the very teeth of the +fire. + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +When Zen came to herself it was with a sense of a strange swimming in +her head. Gradually it resolved itself into a sound of water about her +head; a splashing, fighting water; two heads in the water; two heads in +the water; a lash floating in the water-- + +"Oh!" She was sure she felt water on her face.... + +"Where am I?" + +"You're all right--you'll be all right in a little while." + +"But where am I? What has happened?" She tried to sit up. All was dark. +"Where am I?" she demanded. + +"Don't be alarmed, Zen--I think your name is Zen," she heard a man's +voice saying. "You've been hurt, but you'll be all right presently." + +Then the curtain lifted. "You are Dennison Grant," she said. "I remember +you now. But what has happened? Why am I here--with you?" + +"Well, so far, you've been enjoying about three hours' unconsciousness," +he told her. "At a distance which seems about a mile from here--although +it may be less--is a little pond. I've carried water in the sleeve of my +coat--fortunately it is leather--and poured it somewhat generously upon +your brow. And at last I've been rewarded by a conscious word." + +She tried to sit up, but desisted when a sudden twitch of pain held her +fast. + +"Let me help you," he said, gently. "We have camped, as you may notice, +on a big, flat rock. I found it not far from the scene of the accident, +so I carried you over to it. It is drier than the earth, and, for the +forepart of the night at least, will be warmer." With a strong arm about +her shoulders he drew her into a sitting posture. + +Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. "What's wrong with my +foot?" she demanded. "My boot's off." + +"I'm afraid you turned your ankle getting free from your stirrup," he +explained. "I had to do a little surgery. I could find nothing broken. +It will be painful, but I fear there is nothing to do but bear it." + +She reached down and felt her foot. It was neatly bandaged with cloth +very much like that which she had used to blindfold Quiver. It was easy +to surmise where it came from. Evidently her protector had stopped at +nothing. + +"Well, are we to stay here permanently?" she asked, presently. + +"Only for the night," he told her. "If we're lucky, not that long. +Search parties will be hunting for you, and they will doubtless ride +this way. Both of our horses bolted in the fire--" + +"Oh yes, the fire! Tell me what happened." + +He hesitated. + +"I remember riding into the fire," she continued, "and then next thing I +was on this rock. How did it all happen?" + +"Your horse fell," he explained, "just as you reached the fire, and +threw you, pretty heavily, to the ground. I was behind, so I dismounted +and dragged you through." + +"Oh!" She felt her face. "But I am not even singed!" she exclaimed. + +It was plain that he was holding something back. She turned and laid her +fingers on his arm. "Tell me how you did it," she pressed. + +The darkness hid his modest confusion. "It was really nothing," he +stammered. "You see, I had a leather coat, and I just threw it over your +head--and mine--and dragged you out." + +She was silent for a moment while the meaning of his words came home to +her. Then she placed her hand frankly in his. + +"Thank you," she said, and even in the darkness she knew that their eyes +had met. + +"You are very resourceful," she continued presently. "Must we sit here +all night?" + +"I can think of no alternative," he confessed. "If we had fire-arms +we could shoot a signal, or if there were grass about we could start a +fire, although it probably would not be noticed with so many glows on +the horizon to-night." He stopped to look about. Dull splashes of red +in the sky pointed out remnants of the day's conflagration still eating +their way through the foothills. The air was full of the pungent but not +unpleasant smell of burnt grass. + +"A pretty hard night to send a signal," he said, "but they're almost +sure to ride this way." + +She wondered why he did not offer to walk to the camp for help; it +could not be more than four or five miles. Suddenly she thought she +understood. + +"I am not afraid to stay here alone," she said, with a little laugh. +It was the first time Grant had heard her laugh, and he thought it very +musical indeed. "I've slept out many a night, and you would be back +within a couple of hours." + +"I'm quite sure you're not afraid," he agreed, "but, you see, I am. You +got quite a tap on the head, and for some time before you came to you +were talking--rather foolishly. Now if I should leave you it is not +only possible, but quite probable, that you would lapse again into +unconsciousness.... I really think you'll have to put up with me here." + +"Oh, I wasn't thinking of that!... Did I--did I talk--foolishly?" + +"Rather. Seemed to think you were swimming--or fighting--I couldn't be +sure which. Sometimes you seemed to be doing both." + +"Oh!" With a cold chill the events of the day came back upon her. That +struggle in the water; it came to her now like a bad dream out of the +long, long past. How much had she said? How much would she have given to +know what she said? She felt herself recounting events.... + +Presently she pulled herself up with a start. She must not let him think +her moody. + +"Well, if we MUST enjoy each other's company, we may as well do so +companionably," she said, with an effort at gaiety. "Let us talk. Tell +me about yourself." + +"First things first," he parried. + +"Oh, I've nothing to tell. My life has been very unromantic. A few years +at school, and the rest of it on the range. A very every-day kind of +existence." + +"I think it's the 'every-day kind of existence' that IS romantic," he +returned. "It is a great mistake to think of romance as belonging to +other times and other places. Even the most commonplace person has +experienced romance enough for a dozen books. Quite possibly he has not +recognized the romance, but it was there. The trouble is that with our +limited sense of humor, what we think of as romance in other people's +lives becomes tragedy in our own." + +How much DID he know?... "Yes," she said, "I suppose that is so." + +"I know it is so," he went on. "If we could read the thoughts--know the +experiences--of those nearest to us, we would never need to look out of +our own circles for either romance or tragedy. But it is as well that +we can't. Take the experience of to-day, for example. I admit it has +not been a commonplace day, and yet it has not been altogether +extraordinary. Think of the experiences we have been through just this +day, and how, if they were presented in fiction they would be romantic, +almost unbelievable. And here we are at the close, sitting on a rock, +matter-of-fact people in a matter-of-fact world, accepting everything as +commonplace and unexceptional." + +"Not quite that," she said daringly. "I see that you are neither +commonplace nor unexceptional." She spoke with sudden impulse out of the +depth of her sincerity. She had not met a man like this before. In her +mind she fixed him in contrast with Transley, the self-confident +and aggressive, and Linder, the shy and unassertive. None of those +adjectives seemed to fit this new acquaintance. Nevertheless, he +suffered nothing by the contrast. + +"If I had been bright enough I would have said that first," he +apologized, "but I got rather carried away in one of my pet theories +about romance. Now my life, I suppose, to many people would seem quite +tame and unromantic, but to me it has been a delightful succession of +somewhat placid adventures. It began in a very orthodox way, in a very +orthodox family. My father, under the guidance, no doubt, of whatever +star governs such lucky affairs, became possessed of a piece of land. In +doing so he contributed to society no service whatever, so far as I +have been able to ascertain. But it so fell about that society, in +considerable numbers, wanted his land to live on, so society made of +my father a wealthy man, and gave him power over many people. Could +anything be more romantic than that? Could the fairy tales of your +childhood surpass it for benevolent irresponsibility?" + +"My father has also become wealthy," she said, "although I never thought +of it in that way." + +"Yes, but in exchange for his wealth your father has given service to +society; supplied many thousands of steers for hungry people to eat. +That's a different story, but not less romantic. + +"Well, to proceed. I was brought up to fit my station in life, whatever +that means. There were just two boys of us, and I was the elder. My +father had become a broker. I believe he had become quite a successful +broker, using the word in its ordinary sense, which denotes the making +of money. You see, he already had too much money, so it was very easy +for him to make more. He wanted me to go into the office with him, but +some way I didn't fit in. I've no doubt there was lots of romance there, +too, but I was of the wrong nature; I simply couldn't get enthusiastic +over it. As we already had more money than we could possibly spend on +things that were good for us, I failed to see the point in sitting up +nights to increase it. Being of a frank disposition I confided in my +father that I felt I was wasting my time in a broker's office. He, being +of an equally frank disposition, confided in me that he entertained the +same opinion. + +"Then I delivered myself of some of my pet theories about wealth. I told +him that I didn't believe that any man had a right to money unless he +earned it in return for service given to society, and I said that as +society had to supply the money, society should determine the amount. I +confessed that I was a little hazy about how that was to be carried out, +but I insisted that the principle was right, and, that being so, the +working of it out was only a matter of detail. I realize now that this +was all fanatical heresy to my father; I remember the pained look that +came into his eyes. I thought at the time that it was anger, but I know +now that it was grief--grief and humiliation that a son of his should +entertain such wild and unbalanced ideas. + +"Well, there was more talk, and the upshot of it was that I got out, +accompanied by an assurance from my father that I would never +be burdened with any of the family ducats. Roy--my younger +brother--succeeded to the worries of wealth, and I came to the ranges +where, no doubt to the deep chagrin of my father, I have been able to +make a living, and have, incidentally, been profoundly happy. I'll take +a wager that to-day I look ten years younger than Roy, that I can lick +him with one hand, that I have more real friends than he has, and that +I'm getting more out of life than he is. I'm a man of whims. When they +beckon I follow." + +Grant had been talking intensely. He paused now, feeling that his +enthusiasm had carried him into rather fuller confidences than he had +intended. + +"I'm sorry I bored you with that harangue," he said contritely. "You +couldn't possibly be interested in it." + +"On the contrary, I am very much interested in it," she protested. "It +seems so much finer for a man to make his own way, rather than be lifted +up by someone else. I am sure you are already doing well in the West. +Some day you will go back to your father with more money than he has." + +Grant uttered an amused little laugh. + +"I was afraid you would say that," he answered. "You see, you don't +understand me, either. I don't want to make money. Can you understand +that?" + +"Don't want to make money? Why not?" + +"Why should I?" + +"Well, everybody does. Money is power--it is a mark of success. It would +open up a wider life for you. It would bring you into new circles. Some +day you will want to marry and settle down, and money would enable you +to meet the kind of women--" + +She stopped, confused. She had plunged farther than she had intended. + +"You're all wrong," he said amusedly. It did not even occur to Zen +that he was contradicting her. She had not been accustomed to being +contradicted, but then, neither had she been accustomed to men like +Dennison Grant, nor to conversations such as had developed. She was too +interested to be annoyed. + +"You're all wrong, Miss--?" + +"I don't wonder that you can't fill in my name," she said. "Nobody knows +Dad except as Y.D. But I heard you call me Zen--" + +"That was when you were coming out of your unconsciousness. I apologize +for the liberty taken. I thought it might recall you--" + +"Well, I'm still coming out," she interrupted. "I am beginning to feel +that I have been unconscious for a very long time indeed. Let me hear +why you don't want money." + +Grant was aware of a pleasant glow excited by her frank interest. She +was altogether a desirable girl. + +"I have observed," he said, "that poor people worry over what they +haven't got, and rich people worry over what they have. It is my +disposition not to worry over anything. You said that money is power. +That is one of its deceits. It offers a man power, but in reality it +makes him its slave. It enchains him for life; I have seen it in too +many cases--I am not mistaken. As for opening up a wider life, what +wider life could there be than this which I--which you and I--are +living?" + +She wondered why he had said "you and I." Evidently he was wondering +too, for he fell into reflection. She changed her position to ease the +dull pain in her ankle, which his talk had almost driven from her +mind. The rock had a perpendicular edge, so she let her feet hang over, +resting the injured one upon the other. He was sitting in a similar +position. The silence of the night had gathered about them, broken +occasionally by the yapping of coyotes far down the valley. Segments of +dull light fringed the horizon; the breeze was again blowing from the +west, mild and balmy. Presently one of the segments of light grew and +grew. It was as though it were rushing up the valley. They watched +it, fascinated; then burst into laughter as the orb of the moon became +recognizable.... There was something very companionable about watching +the moon rise, as they did. + +"The greatest wealth in the world," he said at length, as though his +thoughts had been far afield, searching, perchance, the mazy corridors +of Truth for this atom of wisdom; "the greatest wealth in the world is +to be able to do something useful. That is the only wealth which will +not be disturbed in the coming reorganization of society." + +Zen did not reply. For the first time in her life she stood convicted, +before her own mind, of a very profound ignorance. Dennison Grant had +been drawing back the curtain of a world of the existence of which she +had never known. He had talked to her about "the coming reorganization +of society"? What did it mean? She was at home in discussions of herds +or horses; she was at home with the duties of kitchen or reception-room; +she was at home with her father or Transley or Linder or Drazk or +Tompkins the cook, but Dennison Grant in an hour had carried her into a +far country, where she would be hopelessly lost but for his guidance.... +Yet it seemed a good and interesting country. She wanted to enter in--to +know it better. + +"Tell me about the coming reorganization of society," she said. + +"That is an all-night order," he returned. "Besides, I can't tell you +all, because I don't know all. I know only very, very little. I see my +little gleam of light and keep my eye close upon it. But you must know +that society is always in a state of reorganization. Nothing continues +as it was. Those who dismiss a problem glibly by saying it has always +been so and always will be so don't read history and don't understand +human nature." + +He turned toward her as interest in his theme developed. The moonlight +was now pouring upon them; her face was beautiful and fine as marble +in its soft rays. For a moment he hesitated, overwhelmed by a sudden +realization of her attractiveness. He had just been saying that the law +of nature was the law of change, and nature itself stood up to refute +him. + +He brought himself back to earth. "I was saying that everything +changes," he continued. "Look at our economic system, for instance. Not +so many centuries ago the man who got the most wealth was the man with +the biggest muscle and the toughest skin. He wielded a stout club, and +what he wanted, he took. His system of operation was simple and direct. +You have money, you have cattle, you have a wife--I'm speaking of +the times that were. I am stronger than you. I take them. Simplicity +itself!" + +"But very unjust," she protested. + +"Our sense of justice is due to our education," he continued. "If we are +taught to believe that a certain thing is just, we believe it is just. +I am convinced that there is no sense of justice inherent in humanity; +whatever sense we have is the result of education, and the kind of +justice we believe in is the kind of justice to which we are educated. +For example, the justice of the plains is not the justice of the cities; +the justice of the vigilance committee is not the justice of judge and +jury. Now to get back to our subject. When Baron Battle Ax, back in +the fifth or sixth century, knocked all his rivals on the head and +took their wealth away from them, I suppose there was here and there an +advanced thinker who said the thing was unjust, but I am quite sure the +great majority of people said things had always been that way and always +would be that way. But the little minority of thinkers gradually grew +in strength. The Truth was with them. It is worthy of notice that the +advance guard of Truth always travels with minorities. And the day came +that society organized itself to say that the man who uses physical +force to take wealth from another is an enemy of society and must not be +allowed at large. + +"But we have passed largely out of the era of physical force. To-day, an +engineer presses a button and releases more physical force than could be +commanded by all the armies of Rome. Brain power is to-day the dominant +power. And just as physical force was once used to take wealth without +earning it, so is brain force now used to take wealth without earning +it. And just as the masses in the days of Battle Ax said things had +always been that way and always would be that way, just so do the masses +in these days of brain supremacy say things have always been that way +and always will be that way. But just as there was a minority with an +advanced vision of Truth in those days, so is there a minority with an +advanced vision of Truth in these days. You may be absolutely sure that, +just as society found a way to deal with muscle brigands, so also it +will find a way to deal with brain brigands. I confess I don't see how +the details are to be worked out, but there must be a plan under which +the value of the services rendered to society by every man and every +woman will be determined, and they will be rewarded according to the +services rendered." + +"Is that Socialism?" she ventured. + +"I don't know. I don't think so. Certainly it does not contemplate +an equal distribution of the world's wealth. Some men are a menace to +themselves and society when they have a hundred dollars. Others can be +trusted with a hundred million. All men have not been equally gifted +by nature--we know that. We can't make them equal. But surely we can +prevent the gifted ones from preying upon those who are not gifted. That +is what the coming reorganization of society will aim to do." + +"It is very interesting," she said. "And very deep. I have never heard +it discussed before. Why don't people think about these things more?" + +"I don't know," he answered, "but I suppose it is because they are too +busy in the fight. When a self was dodging Battle Ax he hadn't much time +to think about evolving a Magna Charta. But most of all I suppose it is +just natural laziness. People refuse to think. It calls for effort. Most +people would find it easier to pitch a load of hay than to think of a +new thought." + +The moon was now well up; the smoke clouds had been scattered by the +breeze; the sky was studded with diamonds. Zen had a feeling of being +very happy. True, a certain haunting spectre at times would break into +her consciousness, but in the companionship of such a man as Grant she +could easily beat it off. She studied the face in the moon, and invited +her soul. She was living through a new experience--an experience she +could not understand. In spite of the discomfort of her injuries, in +spite of the events of the day, she was very, very happy.... + +If only that horrid memory of Drazk would not keep tormenting her! She +began to have some glimpse of what remorse must mean. She did not blame +herself; she could not have done otherwise; and yet--it was horrible to +think about, and it would not stay away. She felt a tremendous desire to +tell Grant all about it.... She wondered how much he knew. He must have +discovered that her clothing had been wet. + +She shivered slightly. + +"You're cold," he said, as he placed his arm about her, and there was +something very far removed from political economy in the timbre of his +voice. + +"I'm a little chilly," she admitted. "I had to swim my horse across the +river to-day--he got into a deep spot--and I got wet." She congratulated +herself that she had made a very clever explanation. + +He put his coat about her shoulders and drew it tight. Then he sat +beside her in silence. There were many things he could have said, +but this seemed to be neither the time nor the place. Grant was not +Transley. He had for this girl a delicate consideration which Transley's +nature could never know. Grant was a thinker--Transley a doer. Grant +knew that the charm which enveloped him in this girl's presence was the +perfectly natural product of a set of conditions. He was worldly-wise +enough to suspect that Zen also felt that charm. It was as natural as +the bursting of a seed in moist soil; as natural as the unfolding of a +rose in warm air.... + +Presently he felt her head rest against his shoulder. He looked down +upon her in awed delight. Her eyes had closed; her lips were smiling +faintly; her figure had relaxed. He could feel her warm breath upon his +face. He could have touched her lips with his. + +Slowly the moon traced its long arc in the heavens. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Just as the first flush of dawn mellowed the East Grant heard the +pounding of horses' feet and the sound of voices borne across the +valley. They rapidly approached; he could tell by the hard pounding of +the hoofs that they were on a trail which he took to be the one he had +followed before he met Zen. It passed possibly a hundred yards to the +left. He must in some way make his presence known. + +The girl had slept soundly, almost without stirring. Now he must wake +her. He shook her gently, and called her name; her eyes opened; he could +see them, strange and wondering, in the thin grey light. Then, with a +sudden start, she was quite awake. + +"I have been sleeping!" she exclaimed, reproachfully. "You let me +sleep!" + +"No use of two watching the moon," he returned, lightly. + +"But you shouldn't have let me sleep," she reprimanded. "Besides, you +had to stay awake. You have had no sleep at all!" + +There was a sympathy in her voice very pleasant to the ear. But Grant +could not continue so delightful an indulgence. + +"I had to wake you," he explained. "There are several people riding up +the valley; undoubtedly a search party. I must attract their attention." + +They listened, and could now hear the hoof-beats close at hand. Grant +called; not a loud shout; it seemed little more than his speaking voice, +but instantly there was silence, save for the echo of the sound rolling +down the valley. Then a voice answered, and Grant gave a word or two of +directions. In a minute or two several horsemen loomed up through the +vague light. + +"Here we are," said Zen, as she distinguished her father. "Gone lame on +the off foot and held up for repairs." + +Y.D. swung down from his saddle. "Are you all right, Zen?" he cried, as +he advanced with outstretched arms. There was an eagerness and a relief +in his voice which would have surprised many who knew Y.D. only as a +shrewd cattleman. + +Zen accepted and returned his embrace, with a word of assurance that she +was really nothing the worse. Then she introduced her companion. + +"This is Mr. Dennison Grant, foreman of the Landson ranch, Dad." + +Grant extended his hand, but Y.D. hesitated. The truce occasioned by the +fire did not by any means imply permanent peace. Far from it, with the +valley in ruins-- + +Y.D. was stiffening, but his daughter averted what would in another +moment have been an embarrassing situation with a quick remark. + +"This is no time, even for explanations," she said, "except that Mr. +Grant saved my life last evening at the risk of his own, and has lost a +night's sleep for his pains." + +"That was a man's work," said Y.D. It would not have been possible +for his lips to have framed a greater compliment. "I'm obliged to you, +Grant. You know how it is with us cattlemen; we run mostly to horns and +hoofs, but I suppose we have some heart, too, if you can find it." + +They shook hands with as much cordiality as the situation permitted, and +then Zen introduced Transley and Linder, who were in the party. There +were two or three others whom she did not know, but they all shook +hands. + +"What happened, Zen?" said Transley, with his usual directness. "Give us +the whole story." + +Then she told them what she knew, from the point where she had met Grant +on the fire-encircled hill. + +"Two lucky people--two lucky people," was all Transley's comment. Words +could not have expressed the jealousy he felt. But Linder was not too +shy to place his hand with a friendly pressure upon Grant's shoulder. + +"Good work," he said, and with two words sealed a friendship. + +Two of the unnamed members of the party volunteered their horses to +Zen and Grant, and all hands started back to camp. Y.D. talked almost +garrulously; not even himself had known how heavily the hand of Fate had +lain on him through the night. + +"The haymakin' is all off, Darter," he said. "We will trek back to the +Y.D. as soon as you feel fit. The steers will have to take chances next +winter." + +The girl professed her fitness to make the trip at once, and indeed they +did make it that very day. Y.D. pressed Grant to remain for breakfast, +and Tompkins, notwithstanding the demoralization of equipment and +supplies effected by the fire, again excelled himself. After breakfast +the old rancher found occasion for a word with Grant. + +"You know how it is, Grant," he said. "There's a couple of things that +ain't explained, an' perhaps it's as well all round not to press for +opinions. I don't know how the iron stakes got in my meadow, an' you +don't know how the fire got in yours. But I give you Y.D.'s word--which +goes at par except in a cattle trade--" and Y.D. laughed cordially at +his own limitations--"I give you my word that I don't know any more +about the fire than you do." + +"And I don't know anything more about the stakes than you do," returned +Grant. + +"Well, then, let it stand at that. But mind," he added, with returning +heat, "I'm not committin' myself to anythin' in advance. This grass'll +grow again next year, an' by heavens if I want it I'll cut it! No son of +a sheep herder can bluff Y.D!" + +Grant did not reply. He had heard enough of Y.D.'s boisterous nature to +make some allowances. + +"An' mind I mean it," continued Y.D., whose chagrin over being baffled +out of a thousand tons of hay overrode, temporarily at least, his +appreciation of Grant's services. "Mind, I mean it. No monkey-doodles +next season, young man." + +Obviously Y.D. was becoming worked up, and it seemed to Grant that the +time had come to speak. + +"There will be none," he said, quietly. "If you come over the hills to +cut the South Y.D. next summer I will personally escort you home again." + +Y.D. stood open-mouthed. It was preposterous that this young upstart +foreman on a second-rate ranch like Landson's should deliberately defy +him. + +"You see, Y.D.," continued Grant, with provoking calmness, "I've seen +the papers. You've run a big bluff in this country. You've occupied +rather more territory than was coming to you. In a word, you've been a +good bit of a bully. Now--let me break it to you gently--those good old +days are over. In future you're going to stay on your own side of the +line. If you crowd over you'll be pushed back. You have no more right +to the hay in this valley than you have to the hide on Landson's steers, +and you're not going to cut it any more, at all." + +Y.D. exploded in somewhat ineffective profanity. He had a wide +vocabulary of invective, but most of it was of the stand-and-fight +variety. There is some language which is not to be used, unless you are +willing to have it out on the ground, there and then. Y.D. had no such +desire. Possibly a curious sense of honor entered into the case. It was +not fair to call a young man names, and although there was considerable +truth in Grant's remark that Y.D. was a bully, his bullying did not take +that form. Possibly, also, he recalled at that moment the obligation +under which Zen's accident had placed him. At any rate he wound up +rather lamely. + +"Grant," he said, "if I want that hay next year I'll cut it, spite o' +hell an' high water." + +"All right, Y.D.," said Grant, cheerfully. "We'll see. Now, if you can +spare me a horse to ride home, I'll have him sent back immediately." + +Y.D. went to find Transley and arrange for a horse, and in a moment Zen +appeared from somewhere. + +"You've been quarreling with Dad," she said, half reproachfully, and yet +in a tone which suggested that she could understand. + +"Not exactly that," he parried. "We were just having a frank talk with +each other." + +"I know something of Dad's frank talks... I'm sorry... I would have +liked to ask you to come and see me--to see us--my mother would be glad +to see you. I can hardly ask you to come if you are going to be bad +friends with Dad." + +"No, I suppose not," he admitted. + +"You were very good to me; very--decent," she continued. + +At that moment Transley, Linder, and Y.D. appeared, with two horses. + +"Linder will ride over with you and bring back the spare beast," said +Y.D. + +Grant shook hands, rather formally, with Y.D. and Transley, and then +with Zen. She murmured some words of thanks, and just as he would have +withdrawn his hand he felt her fingers tighten very firmly about his. He +answered the pressure, and turned quickly away. + +Transley immediately struck camp, and Y.D. and his daughter drove +homeward, somewhat painfully, over the blackened hills. + +Transley lost no time in finding other employment. It was late in the +season to look for railway contracts, and continued dry weather had made +grading, at best, a somewhat difficult business. Influx of ready money +and of those who follow it had created considerable activity in a +neighboring centre which for twenty years had been the principal +cow-town of the foothill country. In defiance of all tradition, and, +most of all, in defiance of the predictions of the ranchers who had +known it so long for a cow-town and nothing more, the place began to +grow. No one troubled to inquire exactly why it should grow, or how. As +for Transley, it was enough for him that team labor was in demand. He +took a contract, and three days after the fire in the foothills he was +excavating for business blocks about to be built in the new metropolis. + +It was no part of Transley's plan, however, to quite lose touch with +the people on the Y.D. They were, in fact, the centre about which he had +been doing some very serious thinking. His outspokenness with Zen and +her father had had in it a good deal of bravado--the bravado of a man +who could afford to lose the stake, and smile over it. In short, he +had not cared whether he offended them or not. Transley was a very +self-reliant contractor; he gave, even to the millionaire rancher, +no more homage than he demanded in return.... Still, Zen was a very +desirable girl. As he turned the matter over in his mind Transley became +convinced that he wanted Zen. With Transley, to want a thing meant to +get it. He always found a way. And he was now quite sure that he wanted +Zen. He had not known that positively until the morning when he +found her in the grey light of dawn with Dennison Grant. There was a +suggestion of companionship there between the two which had cut him to +the quick. Like most ambitious men, Transley was intensely jealous. + +Up to this time Transley had not thought seriously of matrimony. A +wife and children he regarded as desirable appendages for declining +years--for the quiet and shade of that evening toward which every active +man looks with such irrational confidence. But for the heat of the +day--for the climb up the hill--they would be unnecessary encumbrances. +Transley always took a practical view of these matters. It need hardly +be stated that he had never been in love; in fact Transley would have +scouted the idea of any passion which would throw the practical to the +winds. That was a thing for weaklings, and, possibly, for women. + +But his attachment for Zen was a very practical matter. Zen was the +only heir to the Y.D. wealth. She would bring to her husband capital and +credit which Transley could use to good advantage in his business. She +would also bring personality--a delightful individuality--of which any +man might be proud. She had that fine combination of attractions which +is expressed in the word charm. She had health, constitution, beauty. +She had courage and sympathy. She had qualities of leadership. She +would bring to him not only the material means to build a house, but the +spiritual qualities which make a home. She would make him the envy of +all his acquaintances. And a jealous man loves to be envied. + +So after the work on the excavations had been properly started Transley +turned over the detail to the always dependable Linder, and, remarking +that he had not had a final settlement with Y.D., set out for the ranch +in the foothills. While spending the long autumn day alone in the buggy +he was able to turn over and develop plans on an even more ambitious +scale than had occurred to him amid the hustle of his men and horses. + +The valley was lying very warm and beautiful in yellow light, and the +setting sun was just capping the mountains with gold and painting great +splashes of copper and bronze on the few clouds becalmed in the heavens, +when Transley's tired team jogged in among the cluster of buildings +known as the Y.D. The rancher met him at the bunk-house. He greeted +Transley with a firm grip of his great palm, and with jaws open in +suggestion of a sort of carnivorous hospitality. + +"Come up to the house, Transley," he said, turning the horses over to +the attention of a ranch hand. "Supper is just ready, an' the women will +be glad to see you." + +Zen, walking with a limp, met them at the gate. Transley's eyes +reassured him that he had not been led astray by any process of +idealization; Zen was all his mind had been picturing her. She was worth +the effort. Indeed, a strange sensation of tenderness suffused him as he +walked by her side to the door, supporting her a little with his hand. +There they were ushered in by the rancher's wife, and Zen herself showed +Transley to a cool room where were white towels and soft water from the +river and quiet and restful furnishings. Transley congratulated himself +that he could hardly hope to be better received. + +After supper he had a social drink with Y.D., and then the two sat on +the veranda and smoked and discussed business. Transley found Y.D. more +liberal in the adjustment than he had expected. He had not yet realized +to what an extent he had won the old rancher's confidence, and Y.D. was +a man who, when his confidence had been won, never haggled over details. +He was willing to compromise the loss on the operations on the South +Y.D. on a scale that was not merely just, but generous. + +This settled, Transley proceeded to interest Y.D. in the work in which +he was now engaged. He drew a picture of activities in the little +metropolis such as stirred the rancher's incredulity. + +"Well, well," Y.D. would say. "Transley, I've known that little hole for +about thirty years, an' never seen it was any good excep' to get drunk +in.... I've seen more things there than is down in the books." + +"You wouldn't know the change that has come about in a few months," said +Transley, with enthusiasm. "Double shifts working by electric light, +Y.D! What do you think of that? Men with rolls of money that would choke +a cow sleeping out in tents because they can't get a roof over them. +Why, man, I didn't have to hunt a job there; the job hunted me. I could +have had a dozen jobs at my own price if I could have handled them. It's +just as if prosperity was a river which had been trickling through that +town for thirty years, and all of a sudden the dam up in the foothills +gives away and down she comes with a rush. Lots which sold a year ago +for a hundred dollars are selling now for five hundred--sometimes more. +Old ranchers living on the bald-headed a few years ago find themselves +today the owners of city property worth millions, and are dressing +uncomfortably, in keeping with their wealth, or vainly trying to drink +up the surplus. So far sense and brains has had nothing to do with it, +Y.D., absolutely nothing. It has been fool luck. But the brains are +coming in now, and the brains will get the money, in the long run." + +Transley paused and lit another cigar. Y.D. rolled his in his lips, +reflectively. + +"I mind some doin's in that burg," he said, as though the memory of them +was of greater importance than all that might be happening now. + +Transley switched back to business. "We ought to be in on it, Y.D.," +he said. "Not on the fly-by-night stuff; I don't mean that. But I could +take twice the contracts if I had twice the outfit." + +Y.D. brought his chair down on to all four legs and removed his cigar. + +"You mean we should hit her together?" he demanded. + +"It would be a great compliment to me, if you had that confidence in me, +and I'm sure it would make some good money for you." + +"How'd you work it?" + +"You have a bunch of horses running here on the ranch, eating their +heads off. Many of them are broke, and the others would soon tame down +with a scraper behind them. Give them to me and let me put them to work. +I'd have to have equipment, too. Your name on the back of my note would +get it, and you wouldn't actually have to put up a dollar. Then we'd +make an inventory of what you put into the firm and what I put into it, +and we'd divide the earnings in proportion." + +"After payin' you a salary as manager, of course," suggested Y.D. + +"That's immaterial. With a bigger outfit and more capital I can make so +much more money out of the earnings that I don't care whether I get a +salary or not. But I wouldn't figure on going on contracting all the +time for other people. We might as well have the cream as the skimmed +milk. This is the way it's done. We go to the owner of a block of lots +somewhere where there's no building going on. He's anxious to start +something, because as soon as building starts in that district the lots +will sell for two or three times what they do now. We say to him, 'Give +us every second lot in your block and we'll put a house on it.' In this +way we get the lots for a trifle; perhaps for nothing. Then we build a +lot of houses, more or less to the same plan. We put 'em up quick and +cheap. We build 'em to sell, not to live in. Then we mortgage 'em for +the last cent we can get. Then we put the price up to twice what the +mortgage is and sell them as fast as we can build them, getting our +equity out and leaving the purchasers to settle with the mortgage +company. It's good for from thirty to forty per cent, profit, not per +annum, but per transaction." + +"It sounds interesting," said Y.D., "an' I suppose I might as well put +my spare horses an' credit to work. I don't mind drivin' down with you +to-morrow an' looking her over first hand." + +This was all Transley had hoped for, and the talk turned to less +material matters. After a while Zen joined them, and a little later Y.D. +left to attend to some business at the bunk-house. + +"Your father and I may go into partnership, Zen," Transley said to her, +when they were alone together. He explained in a general way the venture +that was afoot. + +"That will be very interesting," she agreed. + +"Will you be interested?" + +"Of course. I am interested in everything that Dad undertakes." + +"And are you not--will you not be--just a little interested in the +things that I undertake?" + +She paused a moment before replying. The dusk had settled about them, +and he could not see the contour of her face, but he knew that she had +realized the significance of his question. + +"Why yes," she said at length, "I will be interested in what you +undertake. You will be Dad's partner." + +Her evasion nettled him. + +"Zen," he said, "why shouldn't we understand each other?" + +"Don't we?" She had turned slightly toward him, and he could feel the +laughing mockery in her eyes. + +"I rather think we do," he answered, "only we--at least, you--won't +admit it." + +"Oh!" + +"Seriously, Zen, do you imagine I came over here to-day simply to make a +deal with your father?" + +"Wasn't that worth while?" + +"Of course it was. But it wasn't the whole purpose--it wasn't half the +purpose. I wanted to see Y.D., it is true, but more, very much more, I +wanted to see you." + +She did not answer, and he could only guess what was the trend of her +thoughts. After a silence he continued. + +"You may think I am precipitate. You intimated as much to me once. I am. +I know of no reason why an honest man should go beating about the bush. +When I want something I want it, and I make a bee-line for it. If it is +a contract--if it is a business matter--I go right after it, with all +the energy that's in me. When I'm looking for a contract I don't start +by talking about the weather. Well--this is my first experience in love, +and perhaps my methods are all wrong, but it seems to me they should +apply. At any rate a girl of your intelligence will understand." + +"Applying your business principles," she interrupted, "I suppose if you +wanted a wife and there was none in sight you would advertise for her?" + +He defended his position. "I don't see why not," he declared. "I +can't understand the general attitude of levity toward matrimonial +advertisements. Apparently they are too open and above-board. Matrimony +should not be committed in a round-about, indirect, hit-or-miss manner. +A young man sees a girl whom he thinks he would like to marry. Does he +go to her house and say, 'Miss So-and-So, I think I would like to +marry you. Will you allow me to call on you so that we may get better +acquainted, with that object in view?' He does not. Such honesty would +be considered almost brutal. He calls on her and pretends he would like +to take her to the theatre, if it is in town, or for a ride, if it is in +the country. She pretends she would like to go. Both of them know what +the real purpose is, and both of them pretend they don't. They start the +farce by pretending a deceit which deceives nobody. They wait for nature +to set up an attraction which shall overrule their judgment, rather than +act by judgment first and leave it to nature to take care of herself. +How much better it would be to be perfectly frank--to boldly announce +the purpose--to come as I now come to you and say, 'Zen, I want to marry +you. My reason, my judgment, tells me that you would be an ideal mate. +I shall be proud of you, and I will try to make you proud of me. I will +gratify your desires in every way that my means will permit. I pledge +you my fidelity in return for yours. I--I--' Zen, will you say yes? Can +you believe that there is in my simple words more sincerity than there +could be in any mad ravings about love? You are young, Zen, younger than +I, but you must have observed some things. One of them is that marriage, +founded on mutual respect, which increases with the years, is a much +safer and wiser business than marriage founded on a passion which +quickly burns itself out and leaves the victims cold, unresponsive, with +nothing in common. You may not feel that you know me well enough for a +decision. I will give you every opportunity to know me better--I will do +nothing to deceive you--I will put on no veneer--I will let you know me +as I really am. Will you say yes?" + +He had left his seat and approached her; he was leaning close over her +chair. While his words had suggested marriage on a purely intellectual +basis he did not hesitate to bring his physical presence into the scale. +He was accustomed to having his way--he had always had it--never did he +want it more than he did now.... And although he had made his plea from +the intellectual angle he was sure, he was very, very sure there +was more than that. This girl; whose very presence delighted +him--intoxicated him--would have made him mad-- + +"Will you say yes?" he repeated, and his hands found hers and drew her +with his great strength up from her chair. She did not resist, but when +she was on her feet she avoided his embrace. + +"You must not hurry me," she whispered. "I must have time to think. I +did not realize what you were saying until--" + +"Say yes now," he urged. Transley was a man very hard to resist. She +felt as though she were in the grip of a powerful machine; it was as +though she were being swept along by a stream against which her feeble +strength was as nothing. Zen was as nearly frightened as she had ever +been in her vigorous young life. And yet there was something delightful. +It would have been so easy to surrender--it was so hard to resist. + +"Say yes now," he repeated, drawing her close at last and breathing the +question into her ear. "You shall have time to think--you shall ask your +own heart, and if it does not confirm your words you will be released +from your promise." + +They heard the footsteps of her father approaching, and Transley waited +no longer for an answer. He turned her face to his; he pressed his lips +against hers. + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Zen thought over the events of that evening until they became a blur in +her memory. Her principal recollection was that she had been quite swept +off her feet. Transley had interpreted her submission as assent, and +she had not corrected him in the vital moment when they stood before her +father that night in the deep shadow of the veranda. + +"Y.D.," Transley had said, "your consent and your blessing! Zen and I +are to be married as soon as she can be ready." + +That was the moment at which she should have spoken, but she did not. +She, who had prided herself that she would make a race of it--she, +who had always been able to slip out of a predicament in the nick of +time--stood mutely by and let Transley and her father interpret her +silence as consent. She was not sure that she was sorry; she was not +sure but she would have consented anyway; but Transley had taken the +matter quite out of her hands. And yet she could not bring herself to +feel resentment toward him; that was the strangest part of it. It seemed +that she had come under his domination; that she even had to think as he +would have her think. + +In the darkness she could not see her father's face, for which she was +sorry; and he could not see hers, for which she was glad. There was a +long moment of tense silence before she heard him say, + +"Well, well! I had a hunch it might come to that, but I didn't reckon +you youngsters would work so fast." + +"This was a stake worth working fast for," Transley was saying, as he +shook Y.D.'s hand. "I wouldn't trade places with any man alive." And Zen +was sure he meant exactly what he said. + +"She's a good girl, Transley," her father commented; "a good girl, even +if a bit obstrep'rous at times. She's got spirit, Transley, an' you'll +have to handle her with sense. She's a--a thoroughbred!" + +Y.D. had reached his arms toward his daughter, and at these words he +closed them about her. Zen had never known her father to be emotional; +she had known him to face matters of life and death without the quiver +of an eyelid, but as he held her there in his arms that night she felt +his big frame tremble. Suddenly she had a powerful desire to cry. She +broke from his embrace and ran upstairs to her room. + +When she came down her father and mother and Transley were sitting about +the table in the living-room; the room hung with trophies of the chase +and of competition; the room which had been the nucleus of the Y.D. +estate. There was a colored cover on the table, and the shaded oil lamp +in the centre sent a comfortable glow of light downward and about. +The mammoth shadows of the three people fell on the log walls, darting +silently from position to position with their every movement. + +Her mother arose as Zen entered the room and took her hands in a warm, +tender grip. + +"You're early leaving us," she said. "I'm not saying I object. I think +Mr. Transley will make you a good husband. He is a man of energy, like +your father. He will do well. You will not know the hardships that +we knew in our early married life." Their eyes met, and there was a +moment's pause. + +"You will not understand for many years what this means to me, Zenith," +her mother said, and turned quickly to her place at the table. + +She could not remember what they had talked about after that. She +had been conscious of Transley's eyes often on her, and of a certain +spiritual exaltation within her. She could not remember what she had +said, but she knew she had talked with unusual vivacity and charm. It +was as though certain storehouses of brilliance in her being, of which +she had been unaware, had been suddenly opened to her. It was as though +she had been intoxicated by a very subtle wine which did not deaden, but +rather quickened, all her faculties. + +Afterwards, she had spent long hours among the foothills, thinking and +thinking. There were times when the flame of that strange exaltation +burned low indeed; times when it seemed almost to expire. There were +moments--hours--of misgivings. She could not understand the strange +docility which had come over her; the unprecedented willingness to have +her course shaped by another. That strange willingness came as near to +frightening Zen as anything had ever done. She felt that she was being +carried along in a stream; that she was making no resistance; that she +had no desire to resist. She had a strange fear that some day she +would need to resist; some day she would mightily need qualities +of self-direction, and those qualities would refuse to arise at her +command. + +She did not fear Transley. She believed in him. She believed in his +ability to grapple with anything that stood in his way; to thrust it +aside, and press on. She respected the judgment of her father and her +mother, and both of them believed in Transley. He would succeed; he +would seize the opportunities this young country afforded and rise to +power and influence upon them. He would be kind, he would be generous. +He would make her proud of him. What more could she want? + +That was just it. There were dark moments when she felt that surely +there must be something more than all this. She did not know what it +was--she could not analyze her thoughts or give them definite form--but +in these dark moments she feared that she was being tricked, that the +whole thing was a sham which she would discover when it was too late. +She did not suspect her mother, or her father, or Transley, one or all, +of being parties to this trick; she believed that they did not know it +existed. She herself did not know it existed. But the fear was there. + +After a week she admitted, much against her will, that possibly Dennison +Grant had something to do with it. She had not seen him since she had +pressed his fingers and he had ridden away through the smoke-haze of the +South Y.D. She had dutifully tried to force him from her mind. But he +would not stay out of it. It was about that fact that her misgivings +seemed most to centre. When she would be thinking of Transley, and +wondering about the future, suddenly she would discover that she was not +thinking of Transley, but of Dennison Grant. These discoveries shocked +and humiliated her. It was an impossible position. She would throw Grant +forcibly out of her mind and turn to Transley. And then, in an unguarded +moment, Transley would fade from her consciousness, and she would know +again that she was thinking of Grant. + +At length she allowed herself the luxury of thinking frankly about +Dennison Grant. It WAS a luxury. It brought her a secret happiness which +she was wholly at a loss to understand, but which was very delightful, +nevertheless. She amused herself with comparing Grant with Transley. +They had two points in common: their physical perfection and their +fearless, self-confident manner. With these exceptions they seemed to be +complete contradictions. The ambitious Transley worshipped success; the +philosophical Grant despised it. That difference in attitude toward the +world and its affairs was a ridge which separated the whole current of +their lives. It even, in a way, shut one from the view of the other; +at least it shut Grant from the view of Transley. Transley would +never understand Grant, but Grant might, and probably did, understand +Transley. That was why Grant was the greater of the two.... + +She reproached herself for such a thought; it was disloyal to admit +that this stranger on the Landson ranch was a greater man than her +husband-to-be. And yet honesty--or, perhaps, something deeper than +honesty--compelled her to make that admission.... She ran back over the +remembered incidents of the night they had spent together, marooned like +shipwrecked sailors on a rock in the foothills. His attentiveness, his +courtesy, his freedom from any conventional restraint, his manly respect +which was so much greater than conventional restraint--all these came +back to her with a poignant tenderness. She pictured Transley in his +place. Transley would probably have proposed even before he bandaged her +ankle. Grant had not said a word of love, or even of affection. He had +talked freely of himself--at her request--but there had been nothing +that might not have been said before the world. She had been safe with +Grant.... + +After she had thought on this theme for a while Zen would acknowledge to +herself that the situation was absurd and impossible. Grant had given +no evidence of thinking more of her than of any other girl whom he might +have met. He had been chivalrous only. She had sat up with a start at +the thought that there might be another girl.... Or there might be no +girl. Grant was an unusual character.... + +At any rate, the thing for her to do was to forget about him. She should +have no place in her mind for any man but Transley. It was true he had +stampeded her, but she had accepted the situation in which she found +herself. Transley was worthy of her--she had nothing to take back--she +would go through with it. + +On the principle that the way to drive an unwelcome thought out of the +mind is to think vigorously about something else, Zen occupied herself +with plans and day-dreams centering about the new home that was to be +built in town. Neither her father nor Transley had as yet returned from +the trip on which they had gone with a view to forming a partnership, so +there had been no opportunity to discuss the plans for the future, but +Zen took it for granted that Transley would build in town. He was so +enthusiastic over the possibilities of that young and bustling centre +of population that there was no doubt he would want to throw in his lot +with it. This prospect was quite pleasing to the girl; it would leave +her within easy distance of her old home; it would introduce her to a +type of society with which she was well acquainted, and where she could +do herself justice, and it would not break up the associations of her +young life. She would still be able, now and again, to take long rides +through the tawny foothills; to mingle with her old friends; possibly to +maintain a somewhat sisterly acquaintance with Dennison Grant.... + +After ten days Y.D. returned--alone. He had scarcely been able to +believe the developments which he had seen. It was as though the sleepy, +lazy cow-town had become electrified. Y.D. had looked on for three days, +wondering if he were not in some kind of a dream from which he would +awaken presently among his herds in the foothills. After three days he +bought a property. Before he left he sold it at a profit greater than +the earnings of his first five years on the ranch. It would be indeed +a stubborn confidence which could not be won by such an experience, and +before leaving for the ranch Y.D. had arranged for Transley practically +an open credit with his bankers, and had undertaken to send down all the +horses and equipment that could be spared. + +Transley had planned to return to the foothills with Y.D., but at the +last moment business matters developed which required his attention. He +placed a tiny package in Y.D.'s capacious palm. + +"For the girl," he said. "I should deliver it myself, but you'll +explain?" + +Y.D. fumbled the tiny package into a vest pocket. "Sure, I'll attend to +that," he promised. "Wasn't much of these fancy trimmin's when I settled +into double harness, but lots of things has changed since then. You'll +be out soon?" + +"Just as soon as business will stand for it. Not a minute longer." + +On his return home Y.D., after maintaining an exasperating silence until +supper was finished, casually handed the package to his daughter. + +"Some trinket Transley sent out," he explained. "He'll be here himself +as soon as business permits." + +She took the package with a glow of expectancy, started to open it, then +folded the paper again and ran up to her room. Here she tempted herself +for minutes before she would finally open it, whetting the appetite of +anticipation to the full.... The gem justified her little play. It was +magnificent; more beautiful and more expensive than anything her father +ever bought her. + +She hesitated strangely about putting it on. To Zen it seemed that the +putting on of Transley's ring would be a voluntary act symbolizing her +acceptance of him. If she had been carried off her feet--swept into the +position in which she found herself--that explanation would not apply +to the deliberate placing of his ring upon her finger. There would be +no excuse; she could never again plead that she had been the victim of +Transley's precipitateness. This would be deliberate, and she must do it +herself. + +She rather blamed Transley for not having left his old business and come +to perform this rite himself, as he should have done. What was one day +of business, more or less? Yet Zen gathered no hint from that +incident that always, with Transley, business would come first. It was +symbolic--prophetic--but she did not see the sign nor understand the +prophecy. + +She held the ring between her fingers; slipped it off and on her little +fingers; held it so the rays of the sun fell through the window upon it +and danced before her eyes in all their primal colors. + +"I have to put this on," she said, pursing her lips firmly, "and--and +forget about Dennison Grant!" + +For a long time she thought of that and all it meant. Then she raised +the jewel to her lips. + +"Help me--help me--" she murmured. With a quick little impetuous motion +she drew it on to the finger where it belonged. There she gazed upon it +for a moment, as though fascinated by it. Then she fell upon her bed and +lay motionless until long after the valley was wrapped in shadow. + +The events of these days had almost driven from Zen's mind the tragedy +of George Drazk. When she thought of it at all it presented such a +grotesque unreality--it was such an unreasonable thing--that it assumed +the vague qualities of a dream. It was something unreal and very much +better forgotten, and it was only by an unwilling effort at such times +that she could bring herself to know that it was not unreal. It was +a matter that concerned her tremendously. Sooner or later Drazk's +disappearance must be noted,--perhaps his body would be found--and while +she had little fear that anyone would associate her with the tragedy it +was a most unpleasant thing to think about. Sometimes she wondered if +she should not tell her father or Transley just what had happened, but +she shrank from doing so as from the confession of a crime. Mostly she +was able to think of other matters. + +Her father brought it up in a startling way at breakfast. Absolutely out +of a blue sky he said, "Did you know, Zen, that Drazk has disappeared? +Transley tells me you were int'rested a bit in him, or perhaps I should +say he was int'rested in you." + +Zen was so overcome by this startling change in the conversation that +she was unable to answer. The color went from her face and she leaned +low over her plate to conceal her agitation. + +"Yep," continued Y.D., with no more concern than if a steer had been +lost from the herd. "Transley said to tell you Drazk had disappeared an' +he reckoned you wouldn't be bothered any more with him." + +"Drazk was nothing to me," she managed to say. "How can you think he +was?" + +"Now who said he was?" her father retorted. "For a young woman with the +price of a herd of steers on her third finger you're sort o' short this +mornin'. Now I'm jus' wonderin' how far you can see through a board +fence, Zen. Are you surprised that Drazk has disappeared?" + +She was entirely at a loss to understand the drift of her father's talk. +He could not connect her with Drazk's disappearance, or he would not +approach the matter with such unconcern. That was unthinkable. Neither +could Transley, or he would not have sent so brutal a message. And yet +it was clear that they thought she should be interested. + +Her father's question demanded an answer. + +"What should I care?" she ventured at length. + +"I didn't ask you whether you cared. I asked you whether you was +surprised." + +"Drazk's movements were--are nothing to me. I don't know that I have any +occasion to be surprised about anything he may do." + +"Well, I'm rather glad you're not, because if you don't jump to +conclusions, perhaps other people won't. Not that it makes any +partic'lar diff'rence." + +"Dad," she cried in desperation, "whatever do you mean?" + +"It was all plain enough to me, an' plain enough to Transley," her +father continued with remarkable calmness. "We seen it right from the +first." + +"You're talking in riddles, Y.D.," his wife remonstrated. "You're +getting Zen all worked up." + +"Jewelry seems to be mighty upsettin'," Y.D. commented. "There was +nothin' like that in our engagement, eh, Jessie? Well, to come to the +point. There was a fire which burned up the valley of the South Y.D. +Fires don't start themselves--usually. This one started among the +Landson stacks, so it was natural enough to suspec' Y.D. or some of his +sympathizers. Well it wasn't Y.D., an' I reckon it wasn't Zen, an' it +wasn't Transley nor Linder an' every one of the gang's accounted for +excep' Drazk. Drazk thought he was doin' a great piece of business when +he fired the Landson hay, but when the wind turned an' burned up the +whole valley Drazk sees where he can't play no hero part around here so +he loses himself for good. I gathered from Transley that Drazk had been +botherin' you a little, Zen, which is why I told you." + +The girl's heart was pounding violently at this explanation. It was +logical, and would be accepted readily by those who knew Drazk. She +would not trust herself in further conversation, so she slipped away as +soon as she could and spent the day riding down by the river. + +The afternoon wore on, and as the day was warm she dismounted by a ford +and sat down upon a flat rock close to the water. The rock reminded her +of the one on which she and Grant had sat that night while the thin red +lines of fire played far up and down the valley. Her ankle was paining +a little so she removed her boot and stocking and soothed it in the cool +water. + +As she sat watching her reflection in the clear stream and toying with +the ripple about her foot a horseman rode quickly down through the +cottonwoods on the other side and plunged into the ford. It happened +so quickly that neither saw the other until he was well into the river. +Although she had had no dream of seeing him here, in some way she felt +no surprise. Her heart was behaving boisterously, but she sat outwardly +demure, and when he was close enough she sent a frank smile up to him. +The look on his sunburned face as he returned her greeting convinced her +that the meeting, on his part, was no less unexpected and welcome than +it was to her. + +When his horse was out of the water he dismounted and walked to her with +extended hand. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure," he said. "How is the ankle +progressing?" + +"Well enough," she returned, "but it gets tired as the day wears on. I +am just resting a bit." + +There was a moment of somewhat embarrassed silence. + +"That is a good-sized rock," he suggested, at length. + +"Yes, isn't it? And here in the shade, at that." + +She did not invite him with words, but she gave her body a slight hitch, +as though to make room, although there was enough already. He sat down +without comment. + +"Not unlike a rock I remember up in the foothills," he remarked, after a +silence. + +"Oh, you remember that? It WAS like this, wasn't it?" + +"Same two people sitting on it." + +".... Yes." + +"Not like this, though." + +"No.... You're mean. You know I didn't intend to fall asleep." + +"Of course not. Still...." + +His voice lingered on it as though it were a delightful remembrance. + +She found herself holding one of her hands in the other. She could feel +the pressure of Transley's ring on her palm, and she held it tighter +still. + +"Riding anywhere in particular?" he inquired. + +"No. Just mooning." She looked up at him again, this time at close +quarters. It was a quick, bright flash on his face--a moment only. + +"Why mooning?" + +She did not answer. Looking down in the water he met her gaze there. + +"You're troubled!" he exclaimed. + +"Oh, no! My--my ankle hurts a little." + +He looked at her sympathetically. "But not that much," he said. + +She gave a forced little laugh. "What a mind reader you are! Can you +tell my fortune?" + +"I should have to read it in your hand." + +She would have extended her hand, but for Transley's ring. + +"No.... No. You'll have to read it in--in the stars." + +"Then look at me." She did so, innocently. + +"I cannot read it there," he said, after his long gaze had begun to whip +the color to her cheeks. "There is no answer." + +She turned again to the water, and after a long while she heard his +voice, very low and earnest. + +"Zen, I could read a fortune for you, if you would not be offended. We +are only chance acquaintances--not very well acquainted, yet--" + +She knew what he meant, but she pretended she did not. Even in that +moment something came to her of Transley's speech about love being a +game of pretence. Very well, she would play the game--this once. + +"I don't see how I could be offended at your reading my fortune," she +murmured. + +"Then this is the fortune I would read for you," he said boldly. "I see +a young man, a rather foolish young man, perhaps, by ordinary standards, +and yet one who has found a great deal of happiness in his simple, +unconventional life. Until a short time ago he felt that life could give +him all the happiness that was worth having. He had health, strength, +hours of work and hours of pleasure, the fields, the hills, the +mountains, the sky--all God's open places to live in and enjoy. He +thought there was nothing more. + +"Well, then he found, all of a sudden, that there was something +more--everything more. He made that discovery on a calm autumn night, +when fire had blackened all the foothills and still ran in dancing red +ribbons over their distant crests. That night a great thing--two great +things--came into his life. First was something he gave. Not very much, +indeed, but typical of all it might be. It was service. And next was +something he received, something so wonderful he did not understand it +then, and does not understand it yet. It was trust. These were things he +had been leaving largely out of his life, and suddenly he discovered how +empty it was. I think there is one word for both these things, and, it +may be, for even more. You know?" + +"I know," she said, and her voice was scarcely audible. + +"But it is YOUR fortune I am to read," he corrected himself. "It has +been your fortune to open that new world to me. That can never be +undone--those gates can never be closed--no matter where the paths may +lead. Those two paths go down to the future--as all paths must--even +as this road leads away through the valley to the sunset. Zen--if only, +like this road, they could run side by side to the sunset--Oh! Zen, if +they could?" + +"I know," she said, and as she raised her face he saw that her eyes were +wet. "I know--if only they could!" + +There was a little sob in her voice, and in her beauty and distress +she was altogether irresistible. He reached out his arms and would have +taken her in them, but she thrust her hands in his and held herself +back. She turned the diamond deliberately to his eyes. She could feel +his grip relax and apparently grow suddenly cold. He stood speechless, +like one dazed--benumbed. + +"You see, I should not have let you talk--it is my fault," she said, +speaking hurriedly. "I should not have let you talk. Please do not think +I am shallow; that I let you suffer to gratify my vanity." Her eyes +found his again. "If I had not believed every word you said--if I had +not liked every word you said--if I had not--HOPED--every word you said, +I would not have listened.... But you see how it is." + +He was silent for so long that she thought he was not going to answer +her at all. When he spoke it was in a dry, parched voice. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "I should not have presumed--" + +"I know, I know. If only--" + +Then he looked straight at her and talked out. + +"You liked me enough to let me speak as I did. I opened my heart to +you. I ask no such concession in return. I hope you will not think me +presumptuous, but I do not plead now for my happiness, but for yours. Is +this irrevocable? Are--you--sure?" + +He said the last words so slowly and deliberately that she felt that +each of them was cutting the very rock from underneath her. She knew +she was at a junction point in her life, and her mind strove to quickly +appraise the situation. On one side was this man who had for her so +strange and so powerful an appeal. It was only by sheer force of will +that she could hold herself aloof from him. But he was a man who had +broken with his family and quarrelled with her father--a man whom her +father would certainly not for a moment consider as a son-in-law. He +was a foreman; practically a ranch hand. Neither Zen nor her father were +snobs, and if Grant worked for a living, so did Transley. That was not +to be counted against him. The point was, what kind of living did he +earn? What Transley had to offer was perhaps on a lower plane, but +it was more substantial. It had been approved by her father, and her +mother, and herself. It wasn't as though one man were good and the other +bad; it wasn't as though one thing were right and the other wrong. It +would have been easy then.... + +"I have promised," she said at last. + +She released her hands from his, and, sitting down, silently put on her +stocking and boot. She was aware that he was still standing near, as +though waiting to be formally dismissed. She walked by him to her horse +and put her foot in the stirrup. Then she looked at him and gave her +hand a little farewell wave. + +Then a great pang, irresistible in its yearning, swept over her. She +drew her foot from the stirrup, and, rushing down, threw her arms about +his neck.... + +"I must go," she said. "I must go. We must both go and forget." + +And Dennison Grant continued his way down the valley while Zen rode back +to the Y.D., wondering if she could ever forget. + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Linder scratched his tousled brown hair reflectively as he gazed after +the retreating form of Transley. His hat was off, and the perspiration +stood on his sunburned face--a face which, in point of handsomeness, +needed make no apology to Transley. + +"Well, by thunder!" said Linder; "by thunder, think of that!" + +Linder stood for some time, thinking "of that" as deeply as his somewhat +disorganized mental state would permit. For Transley had announced, with +his usual directness, that he wanted so many men and teams for a house +excavation in the most exclusive part of the city. So far they had been +building in the cheaper districts a cheap type of house for those who, +having little capital, are the easier deprived of what they have. The +shift in operations caused Linder to lift his eyebrows. + +Transley laughed boyishly and clapped a palm on his shoulder. + +"I may as well make you wise, Linder," he said. "We're going to build a +house for Mr. and Mrs. Transley." + +"MISSUS?" Linder echoed, incredulously. + +"That's the good word," Transley confirmed. "Never expected it to happen +to me, but it did, all of a sudden. You want to look out; maybe it's +catching." + +Transley was evidently in prime humor. Linder had, indeed, noted this +good humor for some time, but had attributed it to the very successful +operations in which his employer had been engaged. He pulled himself +together enough to offer a somewhat confused congratulation. + +"And may I ask who is to be the fortunate young lady?" he ventured. + +"You may," said Transley, "but if you could see the length of your nose +it wouldn't be necessary. Linder, you're the best foreman I ever had, +just because you don't ever think of anything else. When you pass on +there'll be no heaven for you unless they give you charge of a bunch of +men and teams where you can raise a sweat and make money for the boss. +If you weren't like that you would have anticipated what I've told +you--or perhaps made a play for Zen yourself." + +"Zen? You don't mean Y.D.'s daughter?" + +"If I don't mean Y.D.'s daughter I don't mean anybody, and you can take +that from me. You bet it's Zen. Say, Linder, I didn't think I could +go silly over a girl, but I'm plumb locoed. I bought the biggest old +sparkler in this town and sent it out with Y.D., if he didn't lose it +through the lining of his vest--he handled it like it might have been a +box of pills--bad pills, Linder--and I've got an architect figuring how +much expense he can put on a house--he gets a commission on the cost, +you see--and one of these nights I'm going to buy you a dinner that'll +keep you fed till Christmas. I never knew before that silliness and +happiness go together, but they do. I'm glad I've got a sober old +foreman--that's all that keeps the business going." + +And after Transley had turned away Linder had scratched his head and +said "By thunder.... Linder, when you wake up you'll be dead.... After +her practically saying 'The water's fine.'... Well, that's why I'm a +foreman, and always will be." + +But after a little reflection Linder came to the conclusion that perhaps +it was all for the best. He could not have bought Y.D.'s daughter a big +sparkler or have built her a fine home--because he was a foreman. It +was a round circle.... He threw himself into the building of Transley's +house with as much fidelity as if it had been his own. He gave his +undivided attention to Transley's interests, making dollars for him +while earning cents for himself. This attention was more needed than it +ever had been, as Transley found it necessary to make weekly trips to +the ranch in the foothills to consult with Y.D. upon business matters. + +Zen found her interest in Transley growing as his attentions continued. +He spent money upon her lavishly, to the point at which she protested, +for although Y.D. was rated as a millionaire the family life was one of +almost stark simplicity. Transley assured her that he was making money +faster than he possibly could spend it, and even if not, money had no +nobler mission than to bring her happiness. He explained the blue-prints +of the house, and discussed with her details of the appointments. As the +building progressed he brought her weekly photographs of it. He urged +her to set the date about Christmas; during the winter contracting would +be at a standstill, so they would spend three months in California and +return in time for the spring business. + +Day by day the girl turned the situation over in her mind. Her life +had been swept into strange and unexpected channels, and the experience +puzzled her. Since the episode with Drazk she had lost some of her +native recklessness; she was more disposed to weigh the result of her +actions, and she approached the future not without some misgivings. She +assured herself that she looked forward to her marriage with Transley +with the proper delight of a bride-to-be, and indeed it was a prospect +that could well be contemplated with pleasure.... Transley had won the +complete confidence of her father and when doubts assailed her Zen found +in that fact a very considerable comfort. Y.D. was a shrewd man; a man +who seldom guessed wrong. Zen did not admit that she was allowing +her father to choose a husband for her, but the fact that her father +concurred in the choice strengthened her in it. Transley had in him +qualities which would win not only wealth, but distinction, and she +would share in the laurels. She told herself that it was a delightful +outlook; that she was a very happy girl indeed--and wondered why she was +not happier! + +Particularly she laid it upon herself that she must now, finally, +dismiss Dennison Grant from her mind. It was absurd to suppose that +she cared more for Grant than she did for Transley. The two men were so +different; it was impossible to make comparisons. They occupied quite +different spheres in her regard. To be sure, Grant was a very likeable +man, but he was not eligible as a husband, and she could not marry two, +in any case. Zen entertained no girlish delusions about there being only +one man in the world. On the contrary, she was convinced that there +were very many men in the world, and, among the better types, there was, +perhaps, not so much to choose between them. Grant would undoubtedly be +a good husband within his means; so would Transley, and his means were +greater. The blue-prints of the new house in town had not been without +their effect. It was a different prospect from being a foreman's wife on +a ranch. Her father would never hear of it.... + +So she busied herself with preparations for the great event, and what +preparations they were! "Zen," her father had said, "for once the lid is +off. Go the limit!" She took him at his word. There were many trips +to town, and activities about the old ranch buildings such as they had +never known since Jessie Wilson came to finish Y.D.'s up-bringing, nor +even then. The good word spread throughout the foothill country and down +over the prairies, and many a lazy cloud of dust lay along the November +hillsides as the women folk of neighboring ranches came to pay their +respects and gratify their curiosity. Zen had treasures to show which +sent them home with new standards of extravagance. + +Y.D. had not thought he could become so worked up over a simple matter +like a wedding. Time had dulled the edge of memory, but even after +making allowances he could not recall that his marriage to Jessie Wilson +had been such an event in his life as this. It did not at least reflect +so much glory upon him personally. He basked in the reflected glow of +his daughter's beauty and popularity, as happily as the big cat lying +on the sunny side of the bunk-house. He found all sorts of excuses for +invading where his presence was little wanted while Zen's finery +was being displayed for admiration. Y.D. always pretended that such +invasions were quite accidental, and affected a fine indifference to all +this "women's fuss an' feathers," but his affectations deceived at least +none of the older visitors. + +As the great day approached Y.D.'s wife shot a bomb-shell at him. "What +do you propose to wear for Zen's wedding?" she demanded. + +"What's the matter with the suit I go to town in?" + +"Y.D.," said his wife, kindly, "there are certain little touches which +you overlook. Your town suit is all right for selling steers, although +I won't say that it hasn't outlived its prime even for that. To attend +Zen's wedding it is--hardly the thing." + +"It's been a good suit," he protested. "It is--" + +"It HAS. It is also a venerable suit. But really, Y.D., it will not +do for this occasion. You must get yourself a new suit, and a white +shirt--" + +"What do I want with a white shirt--" + +"It has to be," his wife insisted. "You'll have to deck yourself out in +a new suit and a while shirt and collar." + +Y.D. stamped around the room, and in a moment slipped out. "All fool +nonsense," he confided to himself, on his way to the bunk-house. "It's +all right for Zen to have good clothes--didn't I tell her to go the +limit?--but as for me, 'tain't me that's gettin' married, is it? +Standin' up before all them cow punchers in a white shirt!" The +bitterness of such disgrace cut the old rancher no less keenly than the +physical discomfort which he forecast for himself, yet he put his own +desires sufficiently to one side to buy a suit of clothes, and a white +shirt and collar, when he was next in town. + +It must not be supposed that Y.D. admitted to the salesman that he +personally was descending to any such garb. + +"A suit for a fellow about my size," he explained. "He's visitin' out +at the ranch, an' he hefts about the same as me. Put in one of them +Hereford shirts an' a collar." + +Y.D. tucked the package surreptitiously in his room and awaited the day +of Zen's marriage with mingled emotions. + +Zen, yielding to Transley's importunities, had at last said that it +should be Christmas Day. The wedding would be in the house, with the +leading ranchers and farmers of the district as invited guests, and +the general understanding was to be given out that the countryside as a +whole would be welcome. All could not be taken care of in the house, so +Y.D. gave orders that the hay was to be cleared out of one of the barns +and the floor put in shape for dancing. Open house would be held in +the barn and in the bunk-house, where substantial refreshments would be +served to all and sundry. + +Christmas Day dawned with a seasonable nip to the air, but the sun rose +warm and bright. There was no snow, and by early afternoon clouds of +dust were rising on every trail leading to the Y.D. The old ranchers +and their wives drove in buckboards, and one or two in automobiles; +the younger generation, of both sexes, came on horseback, with many an +exciting impromptu race by the way. Y.D. received them all in the +yard, commenting on the horses and the weather, and how the steers +were wintering, and revealing, at the proper moments, the location of +a well-filled stone jug. The faithful Linder was on hand to assist in +caring for the horses and maintaining organization about the yard. The +women were ushered into the house, but the men sat about the bunk-house +or leaned against the sunny side of the barn, sharpening their wits +in conversational sallies which occasionally brought loud guffaws of +merriment. + +In the house every arrangement had been completed. Zen was to come down +the stairs leaning on her father's arm, and the ceremony would take +place in the big central room, lavishly decorated with flowers which +Transley had sent from town in a heated automobile. After the ceremony +the principals and the older people would eat the wedding dinner in +the house, and all others would be served in the bunk-house. One of the +downstairs rooms was already filled with presents. + +As the hour approached Zen found herself possessed of a calmness which +she deemed worthy of Y.D.'s daughter. She had elected to be unattended +as she had no very special girl friend, and that seemed the simplest +way out of the problem of selecting someone for this honor. She was, +however, amply assisted with her dressing, and the color of her fine +cheeks burned deeper with the compliments to which she listened with +modest appreciation. + +At a quarter to the hour it was discovered that Y.D. had not yet dressed +for the occasion. He was, in fact, engaged with Landson in making a +tentative arrangement for the distribution of next year's hay. Zen had +been so insistent upon an invitation being sent to Mr. and Mrs. Landson, +that Y.D., although fearing a snub for his pains, at last conceded the +point. He had done his neighbor rather less than justice, and now he +and Landson, with the assistance of the jug already referred to, were +burying the hatchet in a corner of the bunk-house. + +"Dang this dressin'," Y.D. remonstrated when a message demanding instant +action reached him. "Landson, hear me now! I wouldn't take a million +dollars for that girl, y' understand--and I wouldn't trade a mangy +cayuse for another!" + +So, grumbling, he found his way to his room and began a wrestle with his +"store" clothes. Before the fight was over he was being reminded through +the door that he wasn't roping a steer, and everybody was waiting. At +the last moment he discovered that he had neglected to buy shoes. There +was nothing for it but his long ranch boots, so on they went. + +He sought Zen in her room. "Will I do in this?" he asked, feeling very +sheepish. + +Zen could have laughed, or she could have cried, but she did neither. +She sensed in some way the fact that to her father this experience was a +positive ordeal. So she just slipped her arm through his and whispered, +"Of course you'll do, you silly old duffer," and tripped down the stairs +by the side of his ponderous steps. + +After the ceremony the elder people sat down to dinner in the house, +and the others in the bunk-house. Zen was radiant and calm; Transley +handsome, delighted, self-possessed. His good luck was the subject of +many a comment, both inside and out of the old house. He accepted it at +its full value, and yet as one who has a right to expect that luck will +play him some favors. + +Suddenly there was a rush from outside, and Zen found herself being +carried bodily away. The young people had decided that the dancing could +wait no longer, so a half dozen hustlers had been deputed to kidnap +the bride and carry her to the barn, where the fiddles were already +strumming. Zen insisted that the first dance must belong to Transley, +but after that she danced with the young ranchers and cowboys with +strict impartiality. And even as she danced she found herself wondering +if, among all this representation of the countryside, that one upon whom +her thoughts had turned so much should be missing. She found herself +watching the door. Surely it would have been only a decent respect to +her--surely he might have helped to whirl her joyously away into the new +life in which the past had to be forgotten.... How much better that they +should part that way, than with the memories they had! + +But Dennison Grant did not appear. Evidently he preferred to keep his +memories.... + +When at last the night had worn thin and it was time for the bridal +couple to leave if they were to catch the morning train in town, +and they had ridden down the foothill trails to the thunder of many +accompanying hoof-beats, the old ranch became suddenly a place very +quiet and still and alone. Y.D. sat down in the corner of the big room +by the fire, and saw strange pictures in its dying embers. Zen.... +Zen!... Transley was a good fellow, but how much a man will take with +scarce a thank-you!... Presently Y.D. became aware of a hand resting +upon his shoulder, and tingling from its fingertips came something akin +to the almost forgotten rapture of a day long gone. He raised his great +palm and took that slowly ageing hand, once round and fresh like Zen's, +in his. Together they watched the fire die out in the silence of their +empty house.... + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Grant read the account of her wedding in the city papers a day or two +later. It was given the place of prominence among the Christmas Day +nuptials. He read it through twice and then tossed the paper to the end +of his little office. Grant was housed in a building by himself; a shack +twelve by sixteen feet, double boarded and tar-papered. A single square +window in the eastern wall commanded a view of the Landson corrals. +On the opposite side of the room was his bed; in the centre a huge +wood-burning stove; near the window stood a table littered with daily +papers and agricultural journals. The floor was of bare boards; a +leather trunk, with D. G. in aggressive letters, sat by the head of +his bed, and in the corner near the foot was a washstand with basin +and pitcher of graniteware. In another corner was a short shelf +of well-selected books; clothing hung from nails driven into the +two-by-fours which formed the framework of the little building; a rifle +was suspended over the door, and lariat and saddle hung from spikes in +the wall. Grant sat in an arm chair by the stove, where the bracket lamp +on the wall could shed its yellow glare upon his paper. + +After throwing the sheet across the room he half turned in his chair, +so that the yellow light fell across his face. Fidget, the pup, always +alert for action, was on her feet in a moment, eager to lead the way +to the door and whatever adventure might lie outside. But Grant did +not leave his chair, and, finding all her tail-waving of no avail, she +presently settled down again by the stove, her chin on her outstretched +paws, her drooping eyes half closed, but a wakeful ear flopping +occasionally forward and back. Grant snuggled his foot against her +friendly side and fell into reverie.... + +There was nothing else for it; he must absolutely dismiss Zen--Zen +Transley--from his mind. That was not only the course of honor; it was +the course of common sense. After all, he had not sought her for his +bride. He had not pressed his suit. He had given her to Transley. The +thought was rather a pleasant one. It implied some sort of voluntary +action upon Grant's part. He had been magnanimous. Nevertheless, he was +cave man enough to know pangs of jealousy which his magnanimity could +not suppress. + +"If things had been different," he remarked to himself; "if I had been +in a position to offer her decent conditions, I would have followed up +the lead. And I would have won." He turned the incident on the river +bank over in his mind, and a faint smile played along his lips. "I would +have won. But I couldn't bring her here.... It's the first time I ever +felt that money could really contribute to happiness. Well--I was happy +before I met her; I can be happy still. This little episode...." + +He crossed the room and picked up the newspaper he had thrown away; he +crumpled it in his hand as he approached the stove. It said the +bride was beautiful--the happy couple--the groom, prosperous young +contractor--California--three months.... He turned to the table, +smoothed out the paper, and studied it again. Of course he had heard +the whole thing from the Landsons; they had done Y.D. and his daughter +justice. He clipped the article carefully from the sheet and folded it +away in a little book on the shelf. + +Then he told himself that Zen had been swept from his mind; that if ever +they should meet--and he dallied a moment with that possibility--they +would shake hands and say some decent, insipid things and part as people +who had never met before. Only they would know.... + +Grant occupied himself with the work of the ranch that winter, spring, +and summer. Occasional news of Mrs. Transley filtered through; she was +too prominent a character in that countryside to be lost track of in +a season. But anything which reached Grant came through accidental +channels; he sought no information of her, and turned a deaf ear, +almost, to what he heard. Then in the fall came an incident which +immediately changed the course of his career. + +It came in the form of an important-looking letter with an eastern +postmark. It had been delivered with other mail at the house, and +Landson himself brought it down. Grant read it and at first stared at it +somewhat blankly, as one not taking in its full portent. + +"Not bad news, I hope?" said his employer, cloaking his curiosity in +commiseration. + +"Rather," Grant admitted, and handed him the letter. Landson read: + + +"It is our duty to place before you information which must be of a very +distressing nature, and which at the same time will have the effect of +greatly increasing your responsibilities and opportunities. Unless you +have happened to see the brief despatches which have appeared in the +Press this letter will doubtless be the first intimation to you +that your father and younger brother Roy were the victims of a most +regrettable accident while motoring on a brief holiday in the South. The +automobile in which they were travelling was struck by a fast train, +and both of them received injuries from which they succumbed almost +immediately. + +"Your father, by his will, left all his property, aside from certain +behests to charity, to his son Roy, but Roy had no will, and as he was +unmarried, and as there are no other surviving members of the family +except yourself, the entire estate, less the behests already referred +to, descends to you. We have not yet attempted an appraisal, but you +will know that the amount is very considerable indeed. In recent years +your father's business undertakings were remarkably successful, and we +think we may conservatively suggest that the amount of the estate will +be very much greater than even you may anticipate. + +"The brokerage firm which your father founded is, temporarily, without +a head. You have had some experience in your father's office, and as his +solicitors for many years, we take the liberty of suggesting that you +should immediately assume control of the business. A faithful staff +are at present continuing it to the best of their ability, but you will +understand that a permanent organization must be effected at as early a +date as may be possible. + +"Inability to locate you until after somewhat exhaustive inquiries had +been made explains the failure to notify you by wire in time to permit +of your attending the funeral of your father and brother, which took +place in this city on the eighth instant, and was marked by many +evidences of respect. + +"We beg to tender our very sincere sympathy, and to urge upon you +that you so arrange your affairs as to enable you to assume the +responsibilities which have, in a sense, been forced upon you, at a very +early date. In the meantime we assure you of our earnest attention to +your interests. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"BARRETT, JONES, BARRETT, DEACON & BARRETT." + + +"Well, I guess it means you've struck oil, and I've lost a good +foreman," said Landson, as he returned the letter. "I'm sorry about your +loss, Grant, and glad to hear of your good luck, if I may put it that +way." + +"No particular good luck that I can see," Grant protested. "I came west +to get away from all that bothering nuisance, and now I've got to go +back and take it all up again. I feel badly about Dad and the kid; +they were decent, only they didn't understand me.... I suppose I didn't +understand them, either. At any rate they didn't wish this on me. They +had quite other plans." + +"What do you reckon she's worth?" Landson asked, after waiting as long +as his patience would permit. + +"Oh, I don't know. Possibly six or eight millions by this time." + +"Six or eight millions! Jehoshaphat! What will you do with it?" + +"Look after it. Mr. Landson, you know that I have never worried about +money; if I had I wouldn't be here. I figure that the more money a man +has the greater are his responsibilities and his troubles; worse than +that, his wealth excites the jealousy of the public and even the envy +of his friends. It builds a barrier around him, shutting out all those +things which are really most worth while. It makes him the legitimate +prey of the unprincipled. I know all these things, and it is because I +know them that I sought happiness out here on the ranges, where perhaps +some people are rich and some are poor, but they all think alike +and live alike and are part of one community and stand together in a +pinch--and out here I have found happiness. Now I'm going back to the +other job. I don't care for the money, but any son-of-a-gun who takes it +from me is a better man than I am, and I'll sit up nights at both ends +of the day to beat him at his own game. Now, just as soon as you can +line up someone to take charge I'll have to beat it." + +The news of Grant's fortune spread rapidly, and many were the +congratulations from his old cow puncher friends; congratulations, +for the most part, without a suggestion of envy in them. Grant put his +affairs in order as quickly as possible, and started for the East with a +trunkful of clothes. But even before he started one thought had risen up +to haunt him. He crushed it down, but it would insist. If only this had +happened a year ago.... + +Dennison Grant's mother had died in his infancy, and as soon as Roy +was old enough to go to boarding-school his father had given up +housekeeping. The club had been his home ever since. Grant reflected on +this situation with some satisfaction. He would at least be spared the +unpleasantness of discharging a houseful of servants and disposing of +the family furniture. As for the club--he had no notion for that. A +couple of rooms in some quiet apartment house, where he could cook a +meal to his own liking as the fancy took him; that was his picture of +something as near domestic happiness as was possible for a single man +rather sadly out of his proper environment. + +Grant reached his old home city late at night, and after a quiet cigar +and a stroll through some of the half-forgotten streets he put up at one +of the best hotels. He was deferentially shown to a room about as large +as the whole Landson house; soft lights were burning under pink shades; +his feet fell noiselessly on the thick carpets. He placed a chair by a +window, where he could watch the myriad lights of the city, and tried +to appraise the new sphere in which he found himself. It would be a very +different game from riding the ranges or roping steers, but it would be +a game, nevertheless; a game in which he would have to stand on his +own resources even more than in those brave days in the foothills. He +relished the notion of the game even while he was indifferent to the +prize. He had no clear idea what he eventually should do with his +wealth; that was something to think about very carefully in the days and +years to come. In the meantime his job was to handle a big business in +the way it should be handled. He must first prove his ability to make +money before he showed the world how little he valued it. + +He turned the water into his bath; there was a smell about the towels, +the linen, the soap, that was very grateful to his nostrils.... + +In the morning he passed by the office of Grant & Son. He did not turn +in, but pursued his way to a door where a great brass plate announced +the law firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett. He smiled +at this elaboration of names; it represented three generations of the +Barrett family and two sons-in-law. Grant found himself speculating +over a name for the Landson ranch; it might have been Landson, Grant, +Landson, Murphy, Skinny & Pete.... + +He entered and inquired for Mr. Barrett, senior. + +"Mr. David Barrett, senior, sir; he's out of the city, sir; he has not +yet come in from his summer home in the mountains." + +"Then the next Mr. Barrett?" + +"Mr. David Barrett, junior, sir; he also is out of the city." + +"Have you any more Barretts?" + +"There's young Mr. Barrett, but he seldom comes down in the forenoon, +sir." + +Grant suppressed a grin. "The Barretts are a somewhat leisurely family, +I take it," he remarked. + +"They have been very successful," said the clerk, with a touch of +reserve. + +"Apparently; but who does the work?" + +"Mr. Jones is in his office. Would you care to send in your card?" + +"No, I think I'll just take it in." He pressed through a counter-gate +and opened a door upon which was emblazoned the name of Mr. Jones. + +Mr. Jones proved to be a man with thin, iron-grey hair and a stubby, +pugnacious moustache. He sat at a desk at the end of a long, narrow +room, down both sides of which were rows of cases filled with +impressive-looking books. He did not raise his eyes when Grant entered, +but continued poring over a file of correspondence. + +"What an existence!" Grant commented to himself. "And yet I suppose this +man thinks he's alive." + +Grant remained standing for a moment, but as the lawyer showed no +disposition to divide his attention he presently advanced to the desk. +Mr. Jones looked up. + +"You are Mr. Jones, I believe?" + +"I am, but you have the better of me--" + +"Only for the moment. You are a lawyer. You will take care of that. I +understand the firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett have +somewhat leisurely methods?" + +"Is the firm on trial?" inquired Mr. Jones, sharply. + +"In a sense, yes. I also understand that although all the Barretts, and +also Mr. Deacon, share in the name plate, Mr. Jones does the work?" + +The lawyer laid down his papers. "Who the dickens are you, anyway, and +what do you want?" + +"That's better. With undivided attention we shall get there much +quicker. I have a certain amount of legal business which requires +attention, and in connection with which I am willing to pay what the +service is worth. But I'm not going to pay two generations of Barretts +which are out of the city, and a third which doesn't come down in the +forenoon. If I have to buy name plates, I'll buy name plates of my own, +and that is what I've decided to do. Do you mind saying how much this +job here is worth?" + +"Of course I do, sir. I don't understand you at all--" + +"Then I'll make myself understood. I am Dennison Grant. By force of +circumstances I find myself--" + +The lawyer had risen from his chair. "Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I'm so +glad--" + +Grant ignored the outstretched hand. "I'm exactly the same man who came +into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to raise +your eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now offering +courtesy; it's to my money." + +"I am sure I beg your pardon. I didn't know--" + +"Then you will know in future. If you've got a hand on you, stick it +out, whether your visitor has any money or not." + +Grant was glaring at the lawyer across the desk, and the +pugnacious-looking moustache was beginning to bristle back. + +"Did you come in here to read me a lecture, or to get legal advice?" the +lawyer returned with some spirit. + +"I came in here on business. In the course of that business I find it +necessary to tell you where you get off at, and to ask you what you're +going to do about it." + +The lawyer came around from behind his desk. "And I'll show you," he +said, very curtly. "You've been drinking, or you're out of your head. +In either case I'm going to put you out of this room until you are in a +different frame of mind." + +"Hop to it!" said Grant, bracing himself. Jones was an oldish man, +and he had no intention of hurting him. In a moment they clenched, and +before Grant could realize what was happening he was on his back. + +He arose quickly, laughing, and sat down in a chair. "Mr. Jones, will +you sit down? I want to talk to you." + +"If you will talk business. You were rude to me." + +"Perhaps. For my rudeness I apologize. But I was not untruthful. And I +wanted to find something out. I found it." + +"What?" + +"Whether you had any sand in you. You have, and considerable muscle, or +knack, as well. I'm not saying you could do it again--" + +"Well, what is this all about?" + +"Simply this. If I am to manage the business of Grant & Son I shall need +legal advice of the highest order, and I want it from a man with red +blood in him--I should be afraid of any other advice. What is your +price? You understand, you leave this firm and think of nothing, +professionally, but what I pay you for." + +Mr. Jones had seated himself, and the pugnacious moustache was settling +back into a less hostile attitude. + +"You are quite serious?" + +"Quite. You see, I know nothing about business. It is true I spent some +time in my father's office, but I never had much heart for it. I +went west to get away from it. Fate has forced it back upon my hands. +Well--I'm not a piker, and I mean to show Fate that I can handle the +job. To do so I must have the advice of a man who knows the game. I want +a man who can look over a bond issue, or whatever it is, and tell me +at a glance whether it's spavined or wind-broken. I want a man who can +sense out the legal badger-holes, and who won't let me gallop over a +cutbank. I want a man who has not only brains to back up his muscle, but +who also has muscle to back up his brains. To be quite frank, I didn't +think you were the man. I had no doubt you had the legal ability, or you +wouldn't be guiding the affairs of this five-cylinder firm, but I was +afraid you didn't have the fight in you. I picked a quarrel with you to +find out, and you showed me, for which I am much obliged. By the way, +how do you do it?" + +Before answering Mr. Jones got up, walked around behind his desk, +unlocked a drawer and produced a box of cigars. + +"That's a mistake you Westerners make," he remarked, when they had +lighted up. "You think the muscle is all out there, just as some +Easterners will admit that the brains are all down here. Both are wrong. +Life at a desk calls for an antidote, and two nights a week keep me in +form. I wrestled a bit when I was a boy, but I haven't had a chance to +try out my skill in a long while. I rather welcomed the opportunity." + +"I noticed that. Well--what's she worth?" + +Mr. Jones ruminated. "I wouldn't care to break with the firm," he said +at length. "There are family ties as well as those of business. A year's +leave of absence might be arranged. By that time you would be safe in +your saddle. By the way, do you propose to hire all your staff by the +same test?" + +Grant smiled. "I don't expect to hire any more staff. I presume there is +already a complete organization, doubtless making money for me at this +very moment. I will not interfere except when necessary, but I want a +man like you to tell me when it is necessary." + +Terms were agreed upon, and Mr. Jones asked only the remainder of the +week to clean up important matters on hand. Telegrams were despatched to +Mr. David Barrett, senior, and Mr. David Barrett, junior, and Jones in +some way managed to convey the delicate information to young Mr. Barrett +that a morning appearance on his part would henceforth be essential. +Grant decided to fill in the interval with a little fishing expedition. +He was determined that he would not so much as call at the office of +Grant & Son until Jones could accompany him. "A tenderfoot like me would +stampede that bunch in no time," he warned himself. + +When he finally did appear at the office he was received with a +deference amounting almost to obeisance. Murdoch, the chief clerk, and +manager of the business in all but title, who had known him in the old +days when he had been "Mr. Denny," bore him into the private office +which had for so many years been the sacred recess of the senior Grant. +Only big men or trusted employees were in the habit of passing those +silent green doors. + +"Well Murdy, old boy, how goes it?" Grant had said when they met, taking +his hand in a husky grip. + +"Not so bad, sir; not so bad, considering the shock of the accident, +sir. And we are all so glad to see you--we who knew you before, sir." + +"Listen, Murdy," said Grant. "What's the idea of all the sirs?" + +"Why," said the somewhat abashed official, "you know you are now the +head of the firm, sir." + +"Quite so. Because a chauffeur neglected to look over his shoulder I am +converted from a cow puncher to a sir. Well, go easy on it. If a man has +native dignity in him he doesn't need it piled on from outside." + +"Very true, sir. I hope you will be comfortable here. Some memorable +matters have been transacted within these walls, sir. Let me take your +hat and cane." + +"Cane? What cane?" + +"Your stick, sir; didn't you have a stick?" + +"What for? Have you rattlers here? Oh, I see--more dignity. No, I don't +carry a stick. Perhaps when I'm old--" + +"You'll have to try and accommodate yourself to our manners," said +Jones, when Murdoch had left the room. "They may seem unnecessary, +or even absurd, but they are sanctioned by custom, and, you know, +civilization is built on custom. The poet speaks of a freedom which +'slowly broadens down from precedent to precedent.' Precedent is custom. +Never defy custom, or you will find her your master. Humor her, and she +will be your slave. Now I think I shall leave, while you try and tune +yourself to the atmosphere of these surroundings. I need hardly warn you +that the furniture is--quite valuable." + +Grant saw him out with a friendly grip on his arm. "You will need +another course of wrestling lessons presently," he warned him. + +So this was the room which had been the inner shrine of the firm of +Grant & Son. The quarters were new since he had left the East; the +furnishings revealed that large simplicity which is elegance and wealth. +A painting of the elder Grant hung from the wall; Dennison stood before +it, looking into the sad, capable, grey eyes. What had life brought to +his father that was worth the price those eyes reflected? Dennison found +his own eyes moistening with memories now strangely poignant.... + +"Environment," the young man murmured, as he turned from the portrait, +"environment, master of everything! And yet--" + +A photograph of Roy stood on the mantelpiece, and beside it, in a little +silver frame, was one of his mother.... Grant pulled himself together +and fell to an examination of the papers in his father's desk. + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Grant's first concern was to get a grasp of the business affairs which +had so unexpectedly come under his direction. To accomplish this he +continued the practice of the Landson ranch; he was up every morning at +five, and had done a day's work before the members of his staff began to +assemble. For advice he turned to Jones and Murdoch, and the management +of routine affairs he left entirely in the hands of the latter. He had +soon convinced himself that the camaraderie of the ranch would not work +in a staff of this kind, so while he was formulating plans of his own +he left the administration to Murdoch. He found this absence of +companionship the most unpleasant feature of his position; it seemed +that his wealth had elevated him out of the human family. He wavered +between amusement and annoyance over the deference that was paid him. +Some of the staff were openly terrified at his approach. + +Not so Miss Bruce. Miss Bruce had tapped on the door and entered with +the words, "I was your father's stenographer. He left practically all +his personal correspondence to me. I worked at this desk in the corner, +and had a private office through the door there into which I slipped +when my absence was preferred." + +She had crossed the room, and, instead of standing respectfully before +Grant's desk, had come around the end of it. Grant looked up with +some surprise, and noted that her features were not without commending +qualities. The mouth, a little large, perhaps-- + +"How do you think you're going to like your job?" she asked. + +Grant swung around quickly in his chair. No one in the staff had spoken +to him like that; Murdoch himself would not have dared address him in so +familiar a manner. He decided to take a firm position. + +"Were you in the habit of speaking to my father like that?" + +"Your father was a man well on in years, Mr. Grant. Every man according +to his age." + +"I am the head of the firm." + +"That is so," she assented. "But if it were not for me and the others on +your pay roll there would be no firm to require a head, and you'd be out +of a job. You see, we are quite as essential to you as you are to us." + +Grant looked at her keenly. Whatever her words, he had to admit that +her tone was not impertinent. She had a manner of stating a fact, rather +than engaging in an argument. There was nothing hostile about her. She +had voiced these sentiments in as matter-of-fact a way as if she were +saying, "It's raining out; you had better take your umbrella." + +"You appear to be a very advanced young woman," he remarked. "I am a +little surprised--I had hardly thought my father would select young +women of your type as his confidential secretaries." + +"Private stenographer," she corrected. "A little extra side on a title +is neither here nor there. Well, I will admit that I rather took your +father's breath at times; he discharged me so often it became a habit, +but we grew to have a sort of tacit understanding that that was just his +way of blowing off steam. You see, I did his work, and I did it right. +I never lost my head when he got into a temper; I could always read my +notes even after he had spent most of the day in death grips with some +business rival. You see, I wasn't afraid of him, not the least bit. And +I'm not afraid of you." + +"I don't believe you are," Grant admitted. "You are a remarkable woman. +I think we shall get along all right if you are able to distinguish +between independence and bravado." He turned to his desk, then suddenly +looked up again. He was homesick for someone he could talk to frankly. + +"I don't mind telling you," he said abruptly, "that the deference which +is being showered upon me around this institution gives me a good deal +of a pain. I've been accustomed to working with men on the same level. +They took their orders from me, and they carried them out, but the older +hands called me by my first name, and any of them swore back when he +thought he had occasion. I can't fit in to this 'Yes sir,' 'No sir,' +'Very good, sir,' way of doing business. It doesn't ring true." + +"I know what you mean," she said. "There's too much servility in it. And +yet one may pay these courtesies and not be servile. I always 'sir'd' +your father, and he knew I did it because I wanted to, not because I had +to. And I shall do the same with you once we understand each other. The +position I want to make clear is this: I don't admit that because I work +for you I belong to a lower order of the human family than you do, and I +don't admit that, aside from the giving of faithful service, I am under +any obligation to you. I give you my labor, worth so much; you pay me; +we're square. If we can accept that as an understanding I'm ready to +begin work now; if not, I'm going out to look for another job." + +"I think we can accept that as a working basis," he agreed. + +She produced notebook and pencil. "Very well, SIR. Do you wish to +dictate?" + +The selection of a place to call home was a matter demanding Grant's +early attention. He discussed it with Mr. Jones. + +"Of course you will take memberships in some of the better clubs," the +lawyer had suggested. "It's the best home life there is. That is why it +is not to be recommended to married men; it has a tendency to break up +the domestic circle." + +"But it will cost more than I can afford." + +"Nonsense! You could buy out one of their clubs, holus-bolus, if you +wanted to." + +"You don't quite get me," said Grant. "If I used the money which was +left by my father, or the income from the business, no doubt I could +do as you say. But I feel that that money isn't really mine. You see, I +never earned it, and I don't see how a person can, morally, spend money +that he did not earn." + +"Then there are a great many immoral people in the world," the lawyer +observed, dryly. + +"I am disposed to agree with you," said Grant, somewhat pointedly. "But +I don't intend that they shall set my standards." + +"You have your salary. That comes under the head of earnings, if you are +finnicky about the profits. What do you propose to pay yourself?" + +"I have been thinking about that. On the ranch I got a hundred dollars a +month, and board." + +"Well, your father got twenty thousand a year, and Roy half that, and if +they wanted more they charged it up as expenses." + +"Considering the cost of board here, I think I would be justified in +taking two hundred dollars a month," Grant continued. + +Jones got up and took the young man by the shoulders. "Look here, Grant, +you're not taking yourself seriously. I don't want to assail your pet +theories--you'll grow out of them in time--but you hired me to give you +advice, and right here I advise you not to make a fool of yourself. You +are now in a big position; you're a big man, and you've got to live in +a big way. If for nothing else than to hold the confidence of the public +you must do it. Do you think they're going to intrust their investments +to a firm headed by a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man?" + +"But I AM a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man. In fact, I'm not sure I'm +worth quite that much. I've got no more muscle, and no more sense, and +very little more experience than I had a month ago, when in the open +market my services commanded a hundred and board." + +"When a man is big enough--or his job is big enough--" Jones argued, "he +arises above the ordinary law of supply and demand. In fact, in a sense, +he controls supply and demand. He puts himself in the job and dictates +the salary. You have a perfect right to pay yourself what other men in +similar positions are getting. Besides, as I said, you'll have to do +so for the credit of the firm. Do you call a doctor who lives in a +tumble-down tenement? You do not. You call one from a fine home; you +select him for his appearance of prosperity, regardless of the fact that +he may have mortgaged his future to create that appearance, and of the +further fact that he will charge you a fee calculated to help pay +off the mortgage. When you want a lawyer, do you seek some garret +practitioner? You do not. You go to a big building, with a big name +plate"--the pugnacious moustache gave hint of a smile gathering +beneath--"and you pay a big price for a man with an office full of +imposing-looking books, not a tenth part of which he has ever read, or +intends ever to read. I admit there's a good deal of bunco in the game, +but if you sit in you've got to play it that way, or the dear public +will throw you into the discard. Many a man who votes himself a salary +in five figures--or gets a friendly board of directors to do it for +him--if thrown unfriended between the millstones of supply and demand +probably couldn't qualify for your modest hundred dollars a month +and board. But he has risen into a different world; instead of being +dictated to, he dictates. That is your position, Grant. Look at it +sensibly." + +"Nevertheless, I shall get along on two hundred a month. If I find it +necessary in order to protect the interests of the business to take a +membership in an expensive club, or commit any other extravagance, I +shall do so, and charge it up as a business expense. Besides, I think I +can be happier that way." + +"And in the meantime your business is piling up profits. What are you +going to do with them? Give them away?" + +"No. That, too, is immoral--whether it be a quarter to a beggar or a +library to a city. It feeds the desire to get money without earning it, +which is the most immoral of all our desires. I have not yet decided +what I shall do with it. I have hired an expert, in you, to show me how +to make money. I shall probably find it necessary to hire another to +show me how to dispose of it. But not a dollar will be given away." + +"And so you would let the beggar starve? That's a new kind of altruism." + +"No. I would correct the conditions that made him a beggar. That's +the only kind of altruism that will make him something better than a +beggar." + +"Some people would beg in any case, Grant. They are incapable of +anything better." + +"Then they are defectives, and should be cared for by the State." + +"Then the State may practise charity--" + +"It is not charity; it is the discharge of an obligation. A father may +support his children, but he must not let anyone else do it." + +"Well, I give up," said Jones. "You're beyond me." + +Grant laughed and extended a cigar box. "Don't hesitate," he said, "this +doesn't come out of the two hundred. This is entertainment expense. And +you must come and see me when I get settled." + +"When you get settled--yes. You won't be settled until you're married, +and you might as well do some thinking about that. A man in your +position gets a pretty good range of choice; you'd be surprised if you +knew the wire-pulling I have already encountered; ambitious old dames +fishing for introductions for their daughters. You may be an expert with +rope or branding-iron, but you're outclassed in this matrimonial game, +and some one of them will land you one of these times before you know +it. You should be very proud," and Mr. Jones struck something of an +attitude. "The youth and beauty of the city are raving about you." + +"About my money," Grant retorted. "If my father had had time to change +his will they would every one of them have passed me by with their noses +in the air. As for marrying--that's all off." + +The lawyer was about to aim a humorous sally, but something in Grant's +appearance closed his lips. "Very well, I'll come and see you if you say +when," he agreed. + +Grant found what he wanted in a little apartment house on a side street, +overlooking the lake. Here was a place where the vision could leap out +without being beaten back by barricades of stone and brick. He rested +his eyes on the distance, and assured the inveigling landlady that the +rooms would do, and he would arrange for decorating at his own expense. +There was a living-room, about the size of his shack on the Landson +ranch; a bathroom, and a kitchenette, and the rent was twenty-two +dollars a month. A decorator was called in to repaper the bathroom +and kitchenette, but for the living-room Grant engaged a carpenter. +He ordered that the inside of the room should be boarded up with rough +boards, with exposed scantlings on the walls and ceiling. No doubt the +tradesman thought his patron mad, or nearly so, but his business was to +obey orders, and when the job was completed it presented a very passable +duplicate of Grant's old quarters on the ranch. He had spared the +fireplace, as a concession to comfort. When he had gotten his personal +effects out of storage, when he had hung rifle, saddle and lariat +from spikes in the wall; had built a little book-shelf and set his old +favorites upon it; had installed his bed and the trunk with the big +D. G.; sitting in his arm chair before the fire, with Fidget's nose +snuggled companionably against his foot, he would not have traded his +quarters for the finest suite in the most expensive club in the city. +Here was something at least akin to home. + +As he was arranging the books on his shelf the clipping with the account +of Zen's wedding fell to the floor. He sat down in his chair and read it +slowly through. Later he went out for a walk. + +It was in his long walks that Grant found the only real comfort of his +new life. To be sure, it was not like roaming the foothills; there was +not the soft breath of the Chinook, nor the deep silence of the mighty +valleys. But there was movement and freedom and a chance to think. +The city offered artificial attractions in which the foothills had not +competed; faultlessly kept parks and lawns; splashes of perfume and +color; spraying fountains and vagrant strains of music. He reflected +that some merciful principle of compensation has made no place quite +perfect and no place entirely undesirable. He remembered also the toll +of his life in the saddle; the physical hardship, the strain of long +hours and broken weather. And here, too, in a different way, he was in +the saddle, and he did not know which strain was the greater. He was +beginning to have a higher regard for the men in the saddle of business. +The world saw only their success, or, it may be, their pretence of +success. But there was a different story from all that, which each one +of them could have told for himself. + +On this evening when his mind had been suddenly turned into old channels +by the finding of the newspaper clipping dealing with the wedding of +Y.D.'s daughter, Grant walked far into the outskirts of the city, paying +little attention to his course. It was late October; the leaves lay +thick on the sidewalks and through the parks; there was in all the air +that strange, sad, sweet dreariness of the dying summer.... Grant had +tried heroically to keep his thoughts away from Transley's wife. The +past had come back on him, had rather engulfed him, in that little +newspaper clipping. He let himself wonder where she was, and whether +nearly a year of married life had shown her the folly of her decision. +He took it for granted that her decision had been folly, and he arrived +at that position without any reflection upon Transley. Only--Zen had +been in love with him, with him, Dennison Grant! Sooner or later she +must discover the tragedy of that fact, and yet he told himself he was +big enough to hope she might never discover it. It would be best that +she should forget him, as he had--almost--forgotten her. There was no +doubt that would be best. And yet there was a delightful sadness in +thinking of her still, and hoping that some day--He was never able to +complete the thought. + +He had been walking down a street of modest homes; the bare trees groped +into a sky clear and blue with the first chill presage of winter. A +quick step fell unheeded by his side; the girl passed, hesitated, then +turned and spoke. + +"You are preoccupied, Mr. Grant." + +"Oh, Miss Bruce, I beg your pardon. I am glad to see you." Even at that +moment he had been thinking of Zen, and perhaps he put more cordiality +into his words than he intended. But he had grown to have considerable +regard, on her own account, for this unusual girl who was not afraid of +him. He had found that she was what he called "a good head." She could +take a detached view; she was absolutely fair; she was not easily +flustered. + +Her step had fallen into swing with his. + +"You do not often visit our part of the city," she essayed. + +"You live here?" + +"Near by. Will you come and see?" + +He turned with her at a corner, and they went up a narrow street lying +deep in dead leaves. Friendly domestic glimpses could be caught through +unblinded windows. + +"This is our home," she said, stopping before a little gate. Grant's eye +followed the pathway to a cottage set back among the trees. "I live +here with my sister and brother and mother. Father is dead," she went on +hurriedly, as though wishing to place before him a quick digest of the +family affairs, "and we keep up the home by living on with mother as +boarders; that is, Grace and I do. Hubert is still in high school. Won't +you come in?" + +He followed her up the path and into a little hall, lighted only by +chance rays falling through a half-opened door. She did not switch on +the current, and Grant was aware of a comfortable sense of her nearness, +quite distinct from any office experience, as she took his hat. In the +living-room her mother received him with visible surprise. She was not +old, but widowhood and the cares of a young family had whitened her hair +before its time. + +"We are glad to see you, Mr. Grant," she said. "It is an unexpected +pleasure. Big business men do not often--" + +"Mr. Grant is different," her daughter interrupted, lightly. "I found +him wandering the streets and I just--retrieved him." + +"I think I AM different," he admitted, as his eye took in the +surroundings, which he appraised quickly as modest comfort, attained +through many little economies and makeshifts. "You are very happy here," +he went on, frankly. "Much more so, I should say, than in many of the +more pretentious homes. I have always contended that, beyond the margin +necessary for decent living, the possession of money is a burden and a +handicap, and I see no reason to change my opinion." + +"Phyllis is a great help to me--and Grace," the mother observed. "I hope +she is a good girl in the office." + +Grant was hurrying an assent but the girl interrupted, perhaps wishing +to relieve him of the necessity of an answer. + +"'Decent living' is a very elastic term," she remarked. "There are +so many standards. Some women think they must have maids and social +status--whatever that is--and so on. It can't be done on mother's +income." + +"That quality is not confined to women," Grant said. "I know I am +regarded as something of a freak because I prefer to live simply. They +can't understand my preference for a plain room to read and sleep in, +for quiet walks by myself when I might be buzzing around in big motor +cars or revelling with a bunch at the club. I suppose it's a puzzle to +them." + +Miss Bruce had seated herself near him. "They are beginning to offer +explanations," she said. "I hear them--such things always filter down. +They say you are mean and niggardly--that you're afraid to spend a +dollar. The fact that you have raised the wages of your staff doesn't +seem to answer them; they rather hold that against you, because it has +a tendency to make them do the same. Other office staffs are going to +their heads and saying, 'Grant is paying his help so much.' That doesn't +popularize you. To be a good fellow you should hold your staff down to +the lowest wages at which you can get service, and the money you save in +this way should be spent with gusto and abandon at expensive hotels and +other places designed to keep rich people from getting too rich." + +"I am afraid you are satirizing them a little, but there is a good deal +in what you say. They think I'm mean because they don't understand me, +and they can't understand my point of view. I believe that money was +created as a medium for the exchange of value. I think they will all +agree with me there. If that is so, then I have no right to money unless +I have given value for it, and that is where they part company with me; +but surely we can't accept the one fact without the other." + +Grant found himself thumbing his pockets. "You may smoke, if you have +tobacco," said Mrs. Bruce. "My husband smoked, and although I did not +approve of it then, I think I must have grown to like it." + +He lighted a cigarette, and continued. "Not all the moral law was given +on Mount Sinai. It seems to me that the supernaturalism which has been +introduced into the story of the Ten Commandments is most unfortunate. +It seems to remove them out of the field of natural law, whereas they +are, really, natural law itself. No social state can exist where they +are habitually ignored. But of course these natural laws existed long +before Moses. He did not make the law; he discovered it, just as Newton +discovered the law of gravitation. Well--there must be many other +natural laws, still undiscovered, or at least unaccepted. The thing is +to discover them, to obey them, and, eventually, to compel others to +obey them. I am no Moses, but I think I have the germ of the law which +would cure our economic ills--that no person should be allowed to +receive value without earning it. Because I believed in that I gave up +a fortune and went to work as a laborer on a ranch, but Fate has forced +wealth upon me, doubtless in order that I may prove out my own theories. +Well, that is what I am doing." + +"It shouldn't be hard to get rid of money if you don't want it," Mrs. +Bruce ventured. + +"But it is. It is the hardest kind of thing. You see, I am limited by +my principles. I believe it is morally wrong to receive money without +earning it; consequently I cannot give it away, as by doing so I would +place the recipient in that position. I believe it is morally wrong to +spend on myself money which I have not earned; consequently I can +spend only what I conceive to be a reasonable return for my services. +Meanwhile, my wealth keeps rolling up." + +"It's a knotty problem," said Phyllis. "I think there is only one +solution." + +"And that is?--" + +"Marry a woman who is a good spender." + +At this moment Grace and Hubert came in from the picture-show together, +and the conversation turned to lighter topics. Mrs. Bruce insisted +on serving tea and cake, and when Grant found that he must go Phyllis +accompanied him to the gate. + +"This all seems so funny," she was saying. "You are a very remarkable +man." + +"I think I once passed a similar opinion about you." + +She extended her hand, and he held it for a moment. "I have not changed +my first opinion," he said, as he released her fingers and turned +quickly down the pavement. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Grant's first visit to the home of his private stenographer was not his +last, and the news leaked out, as it is sure to do in such cases. The +social set confessed to being on the point of being shocked. Two schools +of criticism developed over the five o'clock tea tables; one held that +Grant was a gay dog who would settle down and marry in his class when he +had had his fling, and the other that Phyllis Bruce was an artful hussy +who was quite ready to sell herself for the Grant millions. And there +were so many eligible young women on the market, although none of them +were described as artful hussies! + +Grant's behavior, however, placed him under no cloud in so far as social +opportunities were concerned; on the contrary, he found himself being +showered with invitations, most of which he managed to decline on the +grounds of pressure of business. When such an excuse would have been too +transparent he accepted and made the best of it, and he found no lack +of encouragement in the one or two incipient amorous flurries which +resulted. From such positions he always succeeded in extricating +himself, with a quiet smile at the vagaries of life. He had to admit +that some of the young women whom he had met had charms of more +than passing moment; he might easily enough find himself chasing the +rainbow.... + +Mrs. LeCord carried the warfare into his own office. The late Mr. LeCord +had left her to face the world with a comfortable fortune and three +daughters, of whom the youngest was now married and the oldest was a +forlorn hope. To place the second was now her purpose, and the best +bargain on the market was young Grant. Caroline, she was sure, would +make a very acceptable wife, and the young lady herself confessed a +belief that she could love even a bold Westerner whose bank balance was +expressed in seven figures. + +The fact that Grant avoided social functions only added zest to the +determination with which Mrs. LeCord carried the war into his own +office. She chose to consult him for advice on financial matters and she +came accompanied by Caroline, a young woman rather prepossessing in her +own right. The two were readily admitted into Grant's private office, +where they had opportunity not only to meet the young man in person, but +to satisfy their curiosity concerning the Bruce girl. + +"I am Mrs. LeCord, Mr. Grant," the lady introduced herself. "This is my +daughter Caroline. We wish to consult you on certain financial matters, +privately, if you please." + +Grant received them cordially. "I shall be glad to advise you, if I +can," he said. + +Mrs. LeCord cast a significant glance at Phyllis Bruce. + +"Miss Bruce is my private stenographer. You may speak with perfect +freedom." + +Mrs. LeCord took up her subject after a moment's silence. "Mr. LeCord +left me not entirely unprovided for," she explained. "Almost a million +dollars in bonds and real estate made a comfortable protection for me +and my three daughters against the buffetings of a world which, as you +may have found, Mr. Grant, is not over-considerate." + +"The buffetings of the world are an excellent training for the world's +affairs." + +"Maybe so, maybe so," his visitor conceded. "However, there are other +trainings--trainings of finer quality, Mr. Grant--than those which have +to do with subsistence. I have been able to give my daughters the best +education that money could command, and, if I do say it, I permit myself +some gratification over the result. Gretta is comfortably and happily +married,--a young man of some distinction in the financial world--a Mr. +Powers, Mr. Newton Powers--you may happen to know him; Madge, I think, +is always going to be her mother's girl; Caroline is still heart-free, +although one can never tell--" + +"Oh, mother!" the girl protested, blushing daintily. + +"I said you could never tell, Mr. Grant,--while handsome young men like +yourself are at large." Mrs. LeCord laughed heartily, as much as to say +that her remark must be regarded only as a little pleasantry. "But you +will think I am a gossipy old body," she continued briskly. "I really +came to discuss certain financial matters. Since Mr. LeCord's death +I have taken charge of all the family business affairs with, if I +may confess it, some success. We have lived, and my girls have been +educated, and our little reserve against a rainy day has been almost +doubled, in addition to giving Gretta a hundred thousand in her own +right on the occasion of her marriage. Caroline is to have the same, and +when I am done with it there will be a third of the estate for each. In +the meantime I am directing my investments as wisely as I can. I want my +daughters to be provided for, quite apart from any income marriage may +bring them. I should be greatly humiliated to think that any daughter of +mine would be dependent upon her husband for support. On the contrary, +I mean that they shall bring to their husbands a sum which will be an +appreciable contribution toward the family fortune." + +"If I can help you in any way in your financial matters--" Grant +suggested. + +"Oh, yes, we must get back to that. How I wander! I'm afraid, Mr. Grant, +I must be growing old." + +Grant protested gallantly against such conclusion, and Mrs. LeCord, +after asking his opinion on certain issues shortly to be floated, arose +to leave. + +"You must find life in this city somewhat lonely, Mr. Grant," she +murmured as she drew on her gloves. "If ever you find a longing for a +quiet hour away from business stress--a little domesticity, if I may say +it--our house--" + +"You are very kind. Business allows me very few intermissions. Still--" + +She extended her hand with her sweetest smile. Caroline shook hands, +too, and Grant bowed them out. + +On other occasions Mrs. LeCord and her daughter were fortunate enough +to find Grant alone, and at such times the mother's conversation became +even more pointed than in their first interview. Grant hesitated to +offend her, mainly on account of Caroline, for whom he admitted to +himself it would not be at all difficult to muster up an attachment. +There were, however, three barriers to such a development. One was the +obvious purpose of Mrs. LeCord to arrange a match; a purpose which, as +a mere matter of the game, he could not allow her to accomplish. One was +Zen Transley. There was no doubt about it. Zen Transley stood between +him and marriage to any girl. Not that he ever expected to take her +into his life, or be admitted into hers, but in some way she hedged him +about. He felt that everything was not yet settled; he found +himself entertaining a foolish sense that everything was not quite +irrevocable.... And then there was--perhaps--Phyllis Bruce. + +When at length, for some reason, Mrs. LeCord visited him alone he +decided to be frank with her. + +"You have thought me clever enough to advise you on financial matters?" +he queried, when his visitor had discussed at some length the new loan +in which she was investing. + +"Why, yes," she returned, detecting the personal note in his voice. "I +sometimes think, Mr. Grant, you hardly do yourself justice. Even the +hardest old heads on the Exchange are taking notice of you. I have heard +your name mentioned--" + +"Then it may be presumed," he interrupted, "that I am clever enough to +know the real purpose of your visits to this office?" + +She turned a little in her chair, facing him squarely. "I hardly +understand you, Mr. Grant." + +"Then I possess an advantage, because I quite clearly understand you. +I have hesitated, out of consideration for your daughter, to show any +resentment of your behavior. But I must now tell you that when I marry, +if ever I do, I shall choose my wife without the assistance of her +mother, and without regard to her dowry or the size of the family bank +account." + +"Oh, I protest!" exclaimed Mrs. LeCord, who had grown very red. "I +protest against any such conclusion. I have seen fit to intrust +my financial affairs to your firm; I have visited you on +business--accompanied at times by my daughter, it is true--but only on +business; recognizing in you a social equal I have invited you to my +house, a courtesy which, so far, you have not found yourself able to +accept; but in all this I have shown toward you surely nothing but +friendliness and a respect amounting, if I may say it, to esteem. But +now that you are frank, Mr. Grant, I too will be frank. You cannot be +unaware of the rumors which have been associated with your name?" + +"You mean about Miss Bruce?" + +"Ah, then you know of them. You are a young man, and we older people are +disposed to make allowance for the--for that. But you must realize the +great mistake you would be making should you allow this matter to become +more than--a rumor." + +"I do not admit your right to question me on such a subject, Mrs. +LeCord, but I shall not avoid a discussion of it. Suppose, for the sake +of argument, that I were to contemplate marriage with Miss Bruce; if +she and her relatives were agreeable, what right would anyone have to +object?" + +"It would be a great mistake," Mrs. LeCord insisted, avoiding his +question. "She is not in your class--" + +"What do you mean by 'class'?" + +"Why, I mean socially, of course. She lives in a different world. She +has no standing, in a social way. She works in an office for a living--" + +"So do I," he interrupted, "and your daughters do not. It would +therefore appear that I am more in Miss Bruce's 'class' than in theirs." + +"Ah, but you are an employer. You direct things. You work because you +want to, not because you have to. That makes a difference." + +"Apparently it does. Well, if I had my way, everybody would work, +whether he wanted to or not. I would not allow any healthy man to +spend money which he had not earned by the sweat of his own brow. I am +convinced that that is the only economic system which is sound at +the bottom, but it would destroy 'class,' as at present organized, so +'class' must fight it." + +"I am afraid you are rather radical, Mr. Grant. You may be sure that a +system which has served so long and so well is a good system." + +"That introduces the clash between East and West. The East says because +things are so, and have always been so, they must be right. The West +says because things are so, and have always been so, they are in all +probability wrong. I guess I am a Westerner." + +"You should not allow your theories of economics to stand in the way of +your success," Mrs. LeCord pursued. "Suppose I admit that Caroline would +not be altogether deaf to your advances. Suppose I admit that much. +Allowing for a mother's prejudice, will you not agree with me that +Caroline has her attractions? She is well bred, well educated, and not +without appearance. She belongs to the smartest set in town. Her circle +would bring you not only social distinction, but valuable business +connections. She would introduce that touch of refinement--" + +But Grant, now thoroughly angry, had risen from his chair. "You speak +of refinement," he exclaimed, in the quick, sharp tones which alone +revealed the fighting Grant;--"you, who have been guilty of--I could use +a very ugly word which I will give you the credit of not understanding. +When I decide to buy myself a wife I will send to you for a catalogue of +your daughter's charms." + +Grant dismissed Mrs. LeCord from his office with the confident +expectation that he soon would have occasion to know something of the +meaning of the proverb about hell's furies and a woman scorned. She +would strike at him, of course, through Phyllis Bruce. Well-- + +But his attention was at once to be turned to very different matters. +A stock market, erratic for some days, went suddenly into a paroxysm. +Grant escaped with as little loss as possible for himself and his +clients, and after three sleepless nights called his staff together. +They crowded into the board-room, curious, apprehensive, almost +frightened, and he looked over them with an emotion that was quite new +to his experience. Even in the aloofness which their standards had made +it necessary for him to adopt there had grown up in his heart, quite +unnoticed, a tender, sweet foliage of love for these men and women who +were a part of his machine. Now, as he looked in their faces he +realized how, like little children, they leaned on him--how, like little +children, they feared his power and his displeasure--how, perhaps, like +little children, they had learned to love him, too. He realized, as he +had never done before, that they WERE children; that here and there in +the mass of humanity is one who was born to lead, but the great mass +itself must be children always, doing as they are bid. + +"My friends," he managed to say, "we suddenly find ourselves in +tremendous times. Some of you know my attitude toward this business +in which we are engaged. I did not seek it; I did not approve of it; +I tried to avoid it; yet, when the responsibility was forced upon me +I accepted that responsibility. I gave up the life I enjoyed, the +environment in which I found delight, the friends I loved. Well--our +nation is now in a somewhat similar position. It has to go into a +business which it did not seek, of which it does not approve, but which +fate has thrust upon it. It has to break off the current of its life and +turn it into undreamed-of channels, and we, as individuals who make up +the nation, must do the same. I have already enlisted, and expect that +within a few hours I shall be in uniform. Some of you are single men of +military age; you will, I am sure, take similar steps. For the rest--the +business will be wound up as soon as possible, so that you may be +released for some form of national service. You will all receive three +months' salary in lieu of notice. Mr. Murdoch will look after the +details. When that has been done my wealth, or such part of it as +remains, will be placed at the disposal of the Government. If we win it +will be well invested in a good cause; if we lose, it would have been +lost anyway." + +"We are not going to lose!" It was one of the younger clerks who +interrupted; he stood up and for a moment looked straight at his chief. +In that instant's play of vision there was surely something more than +can be told in words, for the next moment he rushed forward and seized +one of Grant's hands in both his own. There was a moment's handclasp, +and the boy had become a man. + +"I'm going, Grant," he said. "I'm going--NOW!" + +He turned and made his way out of the room, leaving his chief breathless +in a rapture of joy and pride. Others crowded up. They too were +going--NOW. Even old Murdoch tried to protest that he was as good a man +as ever. It seemed to Grant that the drab everyday costumings of his +staff had fallen away, and now they were heroes, they were gods! + +No one knew just how the meeting broke up, but Grant had a confused +remembrance of many handclasps and some tears. He was not sure that he +had not, perhaps, added one or two to the flow, but they were all +tears of friendship and of an emotion born of high resolve.... The most +wonderful thing was that the youngster had called him Grant! + +As he stood in his own office again, trying to get the events of these +last few days into some sort of perspective, Phyllis Bruce entered. He +motioned dumbly to a chair, but she came and stood by his desk. Her face +was very white and her lips trembled with the words she tried to utter. + +"I can't go," she managed to say at length. + +"Can't go? I don't understand?" + +"Hubert has joined," she said. + +"Hubert, the boy! Why, he is only in school--" + +"He is sixteen, and large for his age. He came home confessing, and +saying it was his first lie, and the first important thing he ever did +without consulting mother. He said he knew he wouldn't be able to stand +it if he told her first." + +"Foolish, but heroic," Grant commented. "Be proud of him. It takes more +than wisdom to be heroic." + +"And Grace is going to England. She was taking nursing, you know, and so +gets a preference. We can't ALL leave mother." + +He found it difficult to speak. "You wanted to go to the Front?" he +managed. + +"Of course; where else?" + +Her hand was on the desk; his own slipped over until it closed on it. + +"You are a little heroine," he murmured. + +"No, I'm not. I'm a little fool to tell you this, but how can I +stay--why should I stay--when you are gone?" + +She was looking down, but after her confession she raised her eyes to +his, and he wondered that he had never known how beautiful she was. +He could have taken her in his arms, but something, with the power of +invisible chains, held him back. In that supreme moment a vision swam +before him; a vision of a mountain stream backed by tawny foothills, +and a girl as beautiful as even this Phyllis who had wrapped him in her +arms... and said, "We must go and forget." And he had not forgotten.... + +When he did not respond she drew herself slowly away. "You will hate +me," she said. + +"That is impossible," he corrected, quickly. "I am very sorry if I +have let you think more than I intended. I care for you very, very much +indeed. I care for you so much that I will not let you think I care for +you more. Can you understand that?" + +"Yes. You like me, but you love someone else." + +He was disconcerted by her intuition and the terse frankness with which +she stated the case. + +"I will take you into my confidence, Phyllis, if I may," he said at +length. "I DO like you; I DID love someone else. And that old attachment +is still so strong that it would be hardly fair--it would be hardly +fair--" + +"Why didn't you marry her?" she demanded. + +"Because some one else did." + +"Oh!" + +Her hands found his this time. "I'm sorry," she said. "Sorry I +brought this up--sorry I raised these memories. But now you--who have +known--will know--" + +"I know--I know," he murmured, raising her fingers to his lips.... + +"Time, they say, is a healer of all wounds. Perhaps--" + +"No. It is better that you should forget. Only, I shall see you off; I +shall wave my handkerchief to YOU; I shall smile on YOU in the crowd. +Then--you will forget."... + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Four years of war add only four years to the life of a man according +to the record in the family Bible, if he happen to spring from stock +in which that sacred document is preserved. But four years of war add +twenty years to the grey matter behind the eyes--eyes which learn to +dream and ponder strangely, and sometimes to shine with a hardness that +has no part with youth. When Captain Grant and Sergeant Linder stepped +off the train at Grant's old city there was, however, little to suggest +the ageing process that commonly went on among the soldiers in the Great +War. Grant had twice stopped an enemy bullet, but his fine figure and +sunburned health now gave no evidence of those experiences. Linder +counted himself lucky to carry only an empty sleeve. + +They had fallen in with each other in France, and the friendship planted +in the foothills of the range country had grown, through the strange +prunings and graftings of war, into a tree of very solid timber. Linder +might have told you of the time his captain found him with his arm +crushed under a wrecked piece of artillery, and Grant could have +recounted a story of being dragged unconscious out of No Man's Land, but +for either to dwell upon these matters only aroused the resentment of +the other, and frequently led to exchanges between captain and sergeant +totally incompatible with military discipline. They were content to pay +tribute to each other, but each to leave his own honors unheralded. + +"First thing is a place to eat," Grant remarked, when they had been +dismissed. Words to similar effect had, indeed, been his first remark +upon every suitable opportunity for three months. An appetite which +has been four years in the making is not to be satisfied overnight, and +Grant, being better fortified financially against the stress of a good +meal, sought to be always first to suggest it. Linder accepted the +situation with the complacence of a man who has been four years on army +pay. + +When they had eaten they took a walk through the old town--Grant's old +town. It looked as though he had stepped out of it yesterday; it was +hard to realize that ages lay between. There are experiences which soak +in slowly, like water into a log. The new element surrounds the body, +but it may be months before it penetrates to the heart. Grant had some +sense of that fact as he walked the old familiar streets, apparently +unchanged by all these cataclysmic days.... In time he would come to +understand. There was the name plate of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon +& Barrett. There had not even been an addition to the firm. Here was +the old Grant office, now used for some administration purpose. That, at +least, was a move in the right direction. + +They wandered along aimlessly while the sunset of an early summer +evening marshalled its glories overhead. On a side street children +played in the roadway; on a vacant spot a game of ball was in progress. +Women sat on their verandas and shot casual glances after them as they +passed. Handsome pleasure cars glided about; there was a smell of new +flowers in all the air. + +"What do you make of it, mate?" said Grant at last. + +Linder pulled slowly on his cigarette. Even his training as a sergeant +had not made him ready of speech, but when he spoke it was, as ever, to +the point. + +"It's all so unnecessary," he commented at length. + +"That's the way it gets me, too. So unnecessary. You see, when you +get down to fundamentals there are only two things necessary--food +and shelter. Everything else may be described as trimmings. We've +been dealing with fundamentals so long---mighty bare fundamentals at +that--that all these trimmings seem just a little irritating, don't you +think?" + +"I follow you. I simply can't imagine myself worrying over a stray +calf." + +"And I can't imagine myself sitting in an office and dealing with such +unessential things as stocks and bonds.... And I'm not going to." + +"Got any notion what you will do?" said Linder, when he had reached the +middle of another cigarette. + +"Not the slightest. I don't even know whether I'm rich or broke. I +suppose if Jones and Murdoch are still alive they will be looking +after those details. Doing their best, doubtless, to embarrass me with +additional wealth. What are YOU going to do?" + +"Don't know. Maybe go back and work for Transley." + +The mention of Transley threw Grant's mind back into old channels. He +had almost forgotten Transley. He told himself he had quite forgotten +Zen Transley, but once he knew he lied. That was when they potted him +in No Man's Land. As he lay there, waiting.... he knew he had not +forgotten. And he had thought many times of Phyllis Bruce. At first he +had written to her, but she had not answered his letters. Evidently +she meant him to forget. Nor had she come to the station to welcome him +home. Perhaps she did not know. Perhaps--Many things can happen in four +years. + +Suddenly it occurred to Grant that it might be a good idea to call on +Phyllis. He would take Linder along. That would make it less personal. +He knew his man well enough to keep his own counsel, and eventually they +reached the gate of the Bruce cottage, as though by accident. + +"Let's turn in here. I used to know these people. Mother and daughter; +very fine folk." + +Linder looked for an avenue of retreat, but Grant barred his way, and +together they went up the path. A strange woman, with a baby on her arm, +met them at the door. Grant inquired for Mrs. Bruce and her daughter. + +"Oh, you haven't heard?" said the woman. "I suppose you are just back. +Well, it was a sad thing, but these have been sad times. It was when +Hubert was killed I came here first. Poor dear, she took that to heart +awful, and couldn't be left alone, and Phyllis was working in an office, +so I came here part time to help out. Then she was just beginning to +brace up again when we got the word about Grace. Grace, you know, was +lost on a hospital ship. That was too much for her." + +Grant received this information with a strange catching about the heart. +There had been changes, after all. + +"What became of Phyllis?" He tried to ask the question in an even voice. + +"I moved into the house after Mrs. Bruce died," the woman continued, "as +my man came back discharged about that time. Phyllis tried to get on as +a nurse, but couldn't manage it. Then her office was moved to another +part of the city and she took rooms somewhere. At first she came to see +us often, but not lately. I suppose she's trying to forget." + +"Trying to forget," Grant muttered to himself. "How much of life is made +up of trying to forget!" + +Further questions brought no further information. The woman didn't +know the firm for which Phyllis worked; she thought it had to do with +munitions. Suddenly Grant found himself impelled by a tremendous desire +to locate this girl. He would set about it at once; possibly Jones or +Murdoch could give him information. Strangely enough, he now felt that +he would prefer to be rid of Linder's company. This was a matter for +himself alone. He took Linder to an hotel, where they arranged for +lodgings, and then started on his search. + +He located Murdoch without difficulty. It was now late, and the old +clerk came down the stairs with inoffensive imprecations upon the head +of his untimely caller, but his mutterings soon gave way to a cry of +delight. + +"My dear boy!" he exclaimed, embracing him. "My dear boy--excuse me, +sir, I'm a blithering old man, but oh! sir--my boy, you're home again!" +There was no doubting the depth of old Murdoch's welcome. He ran before +Grant into the living-room and switched on the lights. In a moment +he was back with his arm about the young man's shoulder; he was with +difficulty restraining caresses. + +"Sit you down, Mr. Grant; here--this chair--it's easier. I must get the +women up. This is no night for sleeping. Why didn't you send us word?" + +"There is a tradition that official word is sent in advance," Grant +tried to explain. + +"Aye, a tradition. There's a tradition that a Scotsman is a dour body +without any sentiment. Well--I must call the women." + +He hurried up the stairs and Grant settled back into his chair. So this +was the home of Murdoch, the man who really had earned a considerable +part of the Grant fortune. He had never visited Murdoch before; he had +never thought of him in a domestic sense; Murdoch had always been to him +a man of figures, of competent office routine, of almost too respectful +deference. The light over the centre table fell subdued through a +pinkish shade; the corners of the room lay in restful shadows; the +comfortable furniture showed the marks of years. The walls suggested the +need of new paper; the well-worn carpet had been shifted more than once +for economy's sake. Grant made a hasty appraisal of these conditions; +possibly his old clerk was feeling the pinch of circumstances-- + +Murdoch, returning, led in his wife, a motherly woman who almost kissed +the young soldier. In the welcome of her greeting it was a moment before +Grant became aware of the presence of a fourth person in the room. + +"I am very glad to see you safely back," said Phyllis Bruce. "We have +all been thinking about you a great deal." + +"Why, Miss--Phyllis! It was you I was looking for!" The frank confession +came before he had time to suppress it, and, having said so much, it +seemed better to finish the job. + +"Yes, Phyllis is making her home with us now," Mrs. Murdoch explained. +"It is more convenient to her work." + +Grant wondered how much of this arrangement was due to Mrs. Murdoch's +sympathy for the bereaved girl, and how much to the addition which it +made to the family income. No doubt both considerations had contributed +to it. + +"I called at your old home," he continued. "I needn't say how distressed +I was to hear--The woman could tell me nothing of you, so I came to +Murdoch, hoping--" + +"Yes," she said, simply, as though there were nothing more to explain. +Grant noticed that her eyes were larger and her cheeks paler than they +had been, but the delight of her presence leapt about him. Her hurried +costume seemed to accentuate her beauty despite of all that war had done +to destroy it. There was a silence which lengthened out. They were all +groping for a footing. + +Mrs. Murdoch met the situation by insisting that she would put on +the kettle, and Mr. Murdoch, in a burst of almost divine inspiration, +insisted that his wife was quite incompetent to light the gas alone at +that hour of the night. When the old folks had shuffled into the kitchen +Grant found himself standing close to Phyllis Bruce. + +"Why didn't you answer my letters?" he demanded, plunging to the issue +with the directness of his nature. + +"Because I had promised to let you forget," she replied. There was a +softness in her voice which he had not noted in those bygone days; +she seemed more resigned and yet more poised; the strange wizardry of +suffering had worked new wonders in her soul. Suddenly, as he looked +upon her, he became aware of a new quality in Phyllis Bruce--the quality +of gentleness. She had added this to her unique self-confidence, and +it had toned down the angularities of her character. To Grant, straight +from his long exile from fine womanly domesticity, she suddenly seemed +altogether captivating. + +"But I didn't want to forget!" he insisted. "I wanted not to +forget--YOU." + +She could not misunderstand the emphasis he placed on that last word, +but she continued as though he had not interrupted. + +"I knew you would write once or twice out of courtesy. I knew you would +do that. I made up my mind that if you wrote three times, then I would +know you really wanted to remember me.... I did not get any third +letter." + +"But how could I know that you had placed such a test--such an arbitrary +measurement--upon my friendship?" + +"It wasn't necessary for you to know. If you had cared--enough--you +would have kept on writing." + +He had to admit to himself that there was just enough truth in what she +said to make her logic unanswerable. His delight in her presence now did +not alter the fact that he had found it quite possible to live for four +years without her, and it was true that upon one or two great vital +moments his mind had leapt, not to Phyllis Bruce, but to Zen Transley! +He blushed at the recollection; it was an impossible situation, but it +was true! + +He was framing some plausible argument about honorable men not +persisting in a correspondence when Murdoch bustled in again. + +"Mother is going to set the dining-room table," he announced, "and the +coffee will be ready presently. Well, sir, you do look well in uniform. +You will be wondering how the business has gone?" + +"Not half as much as I am wondering some other things," he said, with +a significance intended for the ear of Phyllis. "You see--I was just +talking it over with a pal to-day, a very good comrade whom I used to +know in the West, and who pulled me out of No Man's Land where I would +have been lying yet if he hadn't thought more of me than he did of +himself--I was talking it over with him to-day, and we agreed that +business isn't worth the effort. Fancy sitting behind a desk, wondering +about the stock market, when you've been accustomed to leaning up +against a parapet wondering where the next shell is going to burst! If +that is not from the sublime to the ridiculous, it is at least from the +vital to the inconsequential. You can't expect men to take a jump like +that." + +"No, not as a jump," Murdoch agreed. "They'll have to move down +gradually. But they must remember that life depends quite as much on +wheat-fields as it does on trenches, and that all the machinery of +commerce and industry is as vital in its way as is the machinery of war. +They must remember that, or instead of being at the end of our troubles +we will find ourselves at the beginning." + +"I suppose," Grant conceded, "but it all seems so unnecessary. No doubt +you have been piling up more money to be a problem to my conscience." + +"Your peculiar conscience, I might almost correct, sir. Your +responsibilities do seem to insist upon increasing. Following your +instructions I put the liquid assets into Government bonds. Interest, +even on Government bonds, has a way of working while you sleep. Then, +you may remember, we were carrying a large load of certain steel stocks. +These I did not dispose of at once, with the result that they, in +themselves, have made you a comfortable fortune." + +"I suppose I should thank you for your foresight, Murdoch. I was rather +hoping you would lose my money and so relieve me of an embarrassing +situation. What am I to do with it?" + +"I don't know, sir, but I feel sure you will use it for some good +purpose. I was glad to get as much of it together for you as I did, +because otherwise it might have fallen to people who would have wasted +it." + +"Upon my word, Murdoch, that smacks of my own philosophy. Is it possible +even you are becoming converted?" + +"Come, Mr. Grant; come, everybody!" a cheerful voice called from behind +the sliding doors which shut off the dining-room. The fragrant smell of +coffee was already in the air, and as Grant took his seat Mrs. +Murdoch declared that for once she had decided to defy all the laws of +digestion. + +At the table their talk dribbled out into thin channels. It was as +though there were at hand a great reservoir of thought, of experience, +of deep gropings into the very well-springs of life, which none of them +dared to tap lest it should rush out and overwhelm them. They seemed in +some strange awe of its presence, and spoke, when they spoke at all, of +trivial things. Grant proved uncommunicative, and perhaps, in a sense, +disappointing. He preferred to forget both the glories and the horrors +of war; when he drew on his experience at all it was to relate some +humorous incident. That, it seemed, was all he cared to remember. He +was conscious of a restraint which hedged him about and hampered every +mental deployment. + +Phyllis, too, must have been conscious of that restraint, for before +they parted she said something about human minds being like pianos, +which get out of tune for lack of the master-touch.... + +When Grant found himself in the street air again he was almost swallowed +up in the rush of things which he might have said. His mental machinery, +which seemed to have been out of mesh,--came back into adjustment with +a jerk. He suddenly discovered that he could think; he could drive his +mind from his own batteries. In soldiering the mind is driven from the +batteries of the rank higher up. The business of discipline is to make +man an automatic machine rather than a thinking individual. It seemed +to Grant that in that moment the machine part of him gave way and the +individual was restored. In his case the change came in a moment; he had +been re-tuned; he was able to think logically in terms of civil life. +He pieced together Murdoch's conversation. "Not as a jump," Murdoch had +said, when he had argued that a man cannot emerge in a moment from the +psychology of the trenches to that of the counting-house. Undoubtedly +that would be true of the mass; they would experience no instantaneous +readjustment.... + +There are moments when the mind, highly vitalized, reaches out into the +universe of thought and grasps ideas far beyond its conscious intention. +All great thoughts come from uncharted sources of inspiration, and it +may be that the function of the mind is not to create thought, but +only to record it. To do so it must be tuned to the proper key of +receptivity. Grant had a consciousness, as he walked along the deserted +streets toward his hotel, that he was in that key; the quietness, the +domesticity of Murdoch's home, the loveliness of Phyllis Bruce, had, +for the moment at least, shut out a background of horror and lifted his +thought into an exalted plane. He paused at a bridge to lean against the +railing and watch the trembling reflection of city lights in the river. + +"I have it!" he suddenly exclaimed to the steel railing. "I have it!" + +He paused for a moment to turn over his thought, as though to make sure +it should not escape. Then, at a pace which aroused the wondering glance +of one or two placid policemen, he hurried to the hotel. + +Linder and Grant had been assigned to the same room, and the sergeant's +dreams, if he dreamt at all, were of the sweet hay meadows of the West. +Grant turned on the light and looked down into the face of his friend. +A smile, born of fields afar from war's alarms, was playing about his +lips. Even in his excitement Grant could not help reflecting what a +wonderful thing it is to sleep in peace. Then-- + +"I have it!" he shouted. "Linder, I have it!" + +The sergeant sat up with a start, blinking. + +"I have it!" Grant repeated. + +"THEM, you mean," said Linder, suddenly awake. "Why, man, what's wrong +with you? You're more excited than if we were just going over the top." + +"I've got my great idea. I know what I'm going to do with my money." + +"Well, don't do it to-night," Linder protested. "Someone has to settle +for this dug-out in the morning." + +"We're leaving for the West to-morrow, Linder, old scout. Everybody +will say we're crazy, but that's a good sign. They've said that of every +reformer since--" + +But Linder was again sleeping the sleep of a man four years in France. + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The window was grey with the light of dawn before Grant's mind had +calmed down enough for sleep. When Linder awoke him it was noon. + +"You sleep well on your Big Idea," was his comment. + +"No better than you did last night," retorted Grant, springing out of +bed. "Let me see.... yes, I still have it clearly. I'll tell you about +it sometime, if you can stay awake. When do we eat?" + +"Now, or as soon as you are presentable. I've a notion to give you three +days' C.B. for appearing on parade in your pyjamas." + +"Make it a cash fine, Sergeant, old dear, and pay it out of what you owe +me. Now that that is settled order up a decent meal. I'll be shaved and +dressed long before it arrives. You know this is a first-class hotel, +where prompt service would not be tolerated." + +As they ate together Grant showed no disposition to discuss what Linder +called his Big Idea, nor yet to give any satisfaction in response to his +companion's somewhat pointed references as to his doings of the night +before. + +"There are times, Linder," he said, "when my soul craves solitude. You, +being a sergeant, and therefore having no soul, will not be able to +understand that longing for contemplation--" + +"It's all right," said Linder. "I don't want her." + +"Furthermore," Grant continued, "to-night I mean to resume my +soliloquies, and your absence will be much in demand." + +"The supply will be equal to the demand." + +"Good! Here are some morsels of money. If you will buy our railway +tickets and settle with the chief extortionist downstairs I will join +you at the night train going west." + +Linder sprang to attention, gave a salute in which mock deference +could not entirely obscure the respect beneath, and set about on his +commissions, while Grant devoted the afternoon to a session with Murdoch +and Jones, to neither of whom would he reveal his plans further than to +say he was going west "to engage in some development work." During the +afternoon it was noted that Grant's interest centred more in a certain +telephone call than in the very gratifying financial statement which +Murdoch was able to place before him. And it was probably as a result +of that telephone call that a taxi drew up in front of Murdoch's home +at exactly six-thirty that evening and bore Miss Phyllis Bruce and an +officer wearing a captain's uniform in the direction of the best hotel +in the city. + +The dining-room was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and soft strains +of music stole vagrantly about its high arching pillars, mingling +with the chatter of lovely women and of men to whom expense was no +consideration. Grant was conscious of a delicious sense of intimacy +as he helped Phyllis remove her wraps and seated himself by her at a +secluded corner table. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I don't make compliments for exercise, but you +do look stunning to-night!" + +A warmth of color lit up her cheek--he had noticed at Murdoch's how pale +she was--and her eyes laughed back at him with some of their old-time +vivacity. + +"I am so glad," she said. "It seems almost like old times--" + +They gave their orders, and sat in silence through an overture. Grant +was delighting himself simply in her presence, and guessed that for her +part she could not retract the confession her love had wrung from her so +long ago. + +"There are some things which don't change, Phyllis," he said, when the +orchestra had ceased. + +She looked back at him with eyes moist and dreamy. "I know," she +murmured. + +There seemed no reason why Grant should not there and then have laid +himself, figuratively, at her feet. And there was not any reason--only +one. He wanted first to go west. He almost hoped that out there +some light of disillusionment would fall about him; that some sudden +experience such as he had known the night before would readjust his +personality in accordance with the inevitable... + +"I asked you to dine with me to-night," he heard himself saying, "for +two reasons: first, for the delight of your exquisite companionship; and +second, because I want to place before you certain business plans which, +to me at least, are of the greatest importance. + +"You know the position which I have taken with regard to the spending of +money, that one should not spend on himself or his friends anything +but his own honest earnings for which he has given honest service to +society. I have seen no reason to change my position. On the contrary +the war has strengthened me in my convictions. It has brought home to +me and to the world the fact that heroism is a flower which grows in no +peculiar soil, and that it blossoms as richly among the unwashed and the +underfed as among the children of fortune. This fact only aggravates +the extremes of wealth and poverty, and makes them seem more unjust than +ever. + +"For myself I have accepted this view, but our financial system is +founded upon very different ethics. I wonder if you have ever thought +of the fact that when the barons at Runnymede laid the foundations of +democratic government for the world they overlooked the almost equally +important matter of creating a democratic system of finance. Well--let's +not delve into that now. The point is that under our present system we +do acquire wealth which we do not earn, and the only thing to be done +for the time being is to treat that wealth as a trust to be managed for +the benefit of humanity. That is what I call the new morality as applied +to money, although it is not so new either. It can be traced back at +least nineteen hundred years, and all our philanthropists, great and +little, have surely caught some glimpse of that truth, unless, perhaps, +they gave their alms that they might have honor of men. But giving one's +money away does not solve the problem; it pauperizes the recipient and +delays the evolution of new conditions in which present injustices would +be corrected. I hope you are able to follow me?" + +"Perfectly. It is easy for me, who have nothing to lose, to follow your +logic. You will have more trouble convincing those whose pockets it +would affect." + +"I am not so sure of that. Humanity is pretty sound at heart, but we +can't abandon the boat we're on until we have another that is proven +seaworthy. However, it seems to me that I have found a solution which +I can apply in my individual case. Have you thought what are the three +greatest needs, commercially speaking, of the present day?" + +"Production, I suppose, is the first." + +"Yes--most particularly production of food. And the others are corollary +to it. They are instruction and opportunity. I am thinking especially of +returned men." + +"Production--instruction--opportunity," she repeated. "How are you going +to bring them about?" + +"That is my Big Idea, as Linder calls it, although I have not yet +confided in him what it is. Well--the world is crying for food, and in +our western provinces are millions of acres which have never felt the +plow--" + +"In the East, too, for that matter." + +"I know, but I naturally think of the West. I propose to form a company +and buy a large block of land, cut it up into farms, build houses and +community centres, and put returned men and their families on these +farms, under the direction of specialists in agriculture. I shall break +up the rectangular survey of the West for something with humanizing +possibilities; I mean to supplant it with a system of survey which will +permit of settlement in groups--villages, if you like--where I shall +instal all the modern conveniences of the city, including movie shows. +Our statesmen are never done lamenting that population continues to flow +from the country to the city, but the only way to stop that flow is to +make the country the more attractive of the two." + +"But your company--who are to be the shareholders?" + +"That is the keystone of the Big Idea. There never before was a company +like this will be. In the first place, I shall put up all the money +myself. Then, when I have prepared a farm ready to receive a man and his +family, I will sell him shares equivalent to the value of his farm, +and give him a perpetual lease, subject to certain restrictions. Let +me illustrate. Suppose you are the prospective shareholder. I say, Miss +Bruce, I can place you on a farm worth, with buildings and equipment, +ten thousand dollars. I do not ask any cash from you; not a cent, but I +want you to subscribe for ten thousand dollars stock in my company. That +will make you a shareholder. When the farm begins to produce you are +to have all you and your family--this is an illustration, you know--can +consume for your own use. The balance is to be sold, and one-third of +the proceeds is to be paid into the treasury of the company and credited +on your purchase of shares. When you have paid for all your shares in +this way you will have no further payments to make, except such levy as +may be made by the company for running expenses. You, as a shareholder +of the company, will have a voice with the other shareholders in +determining what that levy shall be. You and your descendents will be +allowed possession of that farm forever, subject only to your obeying +the rules of the company. You--" + +"But why the company? It simply amounts to buying the land on payments +to be made out of each year's crop, except that you want me to pay for +shares in the company instead of for the land itself." + +"That, as I told you, is the keystone of my Big Idea. If I sold you the +land you would be master of it; you could do as you liked with it. You +could let it lie idle; you could allow your buildings and machinery +to get out of repair; you could keep scrub stock; all your methods of +husbandry might be slovenly or antiquated; you could even rent or sell +the land to someone who might be morally or socially undesirable in the +community. On the other hand you might be peculiarly successful, when +you would proceed to buy out your less successful neighbors, or make +loans on their land, and thus create yourself a land monopolist. But as +a shareholder in the company you will be subject to the rules laid down +by the company. If it says that houses must be painted every four years +you will paint your house every fourth year. If it rules that hayracks +are not to be left on the front lawn you will have to deposit yours +somewhere else. If it orders that crops must be rotated to preserve the +fertility of the soil you will obey those instructions. If you do +not like the regulations you can use your influence with the board of +directors to have them changed. If you fail there you can sell your +shares to someone else--provided you can find a purchaser acceptable to +the board--and get out. The Big Idea is that the community--the company +in this case--shall control the individual, and the individual shall +exert his proper measure of control over the community. The two are +interlocked and interdependent, each exerting exactly the proper amount +of power and accepting proportionate responsibility." + +"But have you provided against the possibility of one man or a group of +men buying up a majority of the stock and so controlling the company? +They could then freeze out the smaller owners." + +"Yes," said Grant, toying with his coffee, "I have made a provision for +that which I think is rather ingenious. Don't imagine that this all came +to me in a moment. The central thought struck me last night on my way +home, and I knew then I had the embryo of the plan, but I lay awake +until daylight working out details. I am going to allot votes on a very +unique principle. It seems to me that a man's stake in a country should +be measured, not by the amount of money he has, but by the number of +mouths he has to feed. I will adopt that rule in my company, and the +voting will be according to the number of children in the family. That +should curb the ambitious." + +They laughed over this proviso, and Phyllis agreed that it was all a +very wonderful plan. "And when they have paid for all their shares you +get your money back," she commented. + +"Oh, no. I don't want my money back. I didn't explain that to you. I +will advance the money on the bonds of the company, without interest. +Suppose I am able to finance a hundred farms that way, then as the +payments come in, still more farms. The thing will spread like a ripple +in a pool, until it covers the whole country. When you turn a sum of +money loose, WITH NO INTEREST CHARGE ATTACHED TO IT, there is no limit +to what it can accomplish." + +"But what will you do with your bonds, eventually? They will be +perfectly secured. I don't see that you are getting rid of your money at +all, except the interest, which you are giving away." + +"That, Phyllis, is where autocracy and democracy meet. All progress is +like the swinging of a pendulum, with autocracy at one end of the arc +and democracy at the other, and progress is the mean of their opposing +forces. But there are times when the most democratic countries have to +use autocratic methods, as, for example, Great Britain and the United +States in the late war. We must learn to make autocracy the servant of +democracy, not its enemy. Well--I'm going to be the autocrat in this +case. I am going to sit behind the scenes and as long as my company +functions all right I will leave it alone, but if it shows signs of +wrecking itself I will assume the role of the benevolent despot and set +it to rights again. Oh, Phyllis, don't you see? It's not just MY company +I'm thinking about. This is an experiment, in which my company will +represent the State. If it succeeds I shall turn the whole machinery +over to the State as my contribution to the betterment of humanity. If +it fails--well, then I shall have demonstrated that the idea is unsound. +Even that is worth something. + +"I like to think of the great inventors, experimenting with the +mysterious forces of nature. Their business is to find the natural laws +that govern material things. And I am quite sure that there are +also natural laws designed to govern man in his social and economic +relationships, and when those laws have been discovered the +impossibilities of to-day will become the common practice of to-morrow, +just as steam and electricity have made the impossibilities of yesterday +the common practice of to-day. The first need is to find the law, and to +what more worthy purpose could a man devote himself? When I landed here +yesterday--when I walked again through these old streets--I was a being +without purpose; I was like a battery that had dried up. All these petty +affairs of life seemed so useless, so humdrum, so commonplace, I knew I +could never settle down to them again. Then last night from some unknown +source came a new idea--an inspiration--and presto! the battery is +re-charged, life again has its purposes, and I am eager to be at work. + +"I said 'some unknown source,' but it was not altogether unknown. It +had something to do with honest old Murdoch, and his good wife pouring +coffee for the midnight supper in their cozy dining-room, and Phyllis +Bruce across the table! We never know, Phyllis, how much we owe to our +friends; to that charmed circle, be it ever so small, in which every +note strikes in harmony. I know my Big Idea is only playing on the +surface; only skimming about the edges. What the world needs is just +friends." + +Grant had talked himself out, but he continued to sit at the little +table, reveling in the happiness of a man who feels that he has been +called to some purpose worth while. His companion hesitated to interrupt +his thoughts; her somewhat drab business experience made her pessimistic +toward all idealism, and yet she felt that here, surely, was a man who +could carry almost any project through to success. The unique quality in +him, which distinguished him from any other man she had ever known, was +his complete unselfishness. In all his undertakings he coveted no reward +for himself; he was seeking only the common good. + +"If all men were like you there would be no problems," she murmured, +and while he could not accept the words quite at par they rang very +pleasantly in his ears. + +A movement among the diners reminded him of the flight of time, and +with a glance at his watch he sprang up in surprise. "I had no idea the +evening had gone!" he exclaimed. "I have just time to see you home and +get back to catch my train." + +He called a taxi and accompanied her into it. They seated themselves +together, and the fragrance of her presence was very sweet about him. +It would have been so easy to forget--all that he had been trying to +forget--in the intoxication of such environment. Surely it was not +necessary that he should go west--that he should see HER again--in order +to be sure. + +"Phyllis," he breathed, "do you imagine I could undertake these things +if I cared only for myself--if it were not that I longed for someone's +approval--for someone to be proud of me? The strongest man is weak +enough for that, and the strongest man is stronger when he knows that +the woman he loves--" + +He would have taken her in his arms, but she resisted, gently, firmly. + +"You have made me think too much of you, Dennison," she whispered. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +On the way west Grant gradually unfolded his plan to Linder, who +accepted it with his customary stoicism. + +"I'm not very strong for a scheme that hasn't got any profits in it," +Linder confessed. "It doesn't sound human." + +"I don't notice that you have ever figured very high in profits on your +own account," Grant retorted. "Your usefulness has been in making them +for other people. I suppose if I would let you help to swell my bank +account you would work for me for board and lodging, but as I refuse +to do that I shall have to pay you three times Transley's rate. I don't +know what he paid you, but I suspect that for every dollar you earned +for yourself you earned two for him, so I am going to base your scale +accordingly. You are to go on with the physical work at once; buy the +horses, tractors, machinery; break up the land, fence it, build the +houses and barns; in short, you are to superintend everything that is +done with muscle or its substitute. I will bring Murdoch out shortly to +take charge of the clerical details and the general organization. As for +myself, after I have bought the land and placed the necessary funds to +the credit of the company I propose to keep out of the limelight. I will +be the heart of the undertaking; Murdoch will be the head, and you +are to be the hands, and I hope you two conspirators won't give me +palpitation. You think it a mistake to work without profits, but Murdoch +thinks it a sin. When I lay my plans before him I am quite prepared to +hear him insist upon calling in an alienist." + +"It's YOUR money," Linder assented, laconically. "What are YOU going to +do?" + +"I'm going to buy a half section of my own, and I'm going to start +myself on it on identically the same terms that I offer to the +shareholders in my company. I want to prove by my own experience that +it can be done, but I must keep away from the company. Human nature is +a clinging vine at best, and I don't want it clinging about me. You +will notice that my plan, unlike most communistic or socialist ventures, +relieves the individual of no atom of responsibility. I give him the +opportunity, but I put it up to him to make good with that opportunity. +I have not overlooked the fact that a man is a man, and never can be +made quite into a machine." + +The two friends discussed at great length the details of the Big +Idea, and upon arrival in the West Linder lost no time in preparing +blue-prints and charts descriptive of the improvements to be made on the +land and the order in which the work was to be carried on. Grant bought +a tract suitable to his purpose, and the wheels of the machine which +was to blaze a path for the State were set in motion. When this had been +done Grant turned to the working out of his own individual experiment. + +During the period in which these arrangements were being made it was +inevitable that Grant should have heard more or less of Transley. He had +not gone out of his way to seek information of the contractor, but it +rather had been forced upon him. Transley's name was frequently heard in +the offices of the business men with whom he had to do; it was +mentioned in local papers with the regularity peculiar to celebrities in +comparatively small centres. Transley, it appeared, had become something +of a power in the land. Backed by old Y.D.'s capital he had carried some +rather daring ventures through to success. He had seized the panicky +moments following the outbreak of the war to buy heavily on the wheat +and cattle markets, and increases in prices due to the world's demand +for food had made him one of the wealthy men of the city. The desire of +many young farmers to enlist had also afforded an opportunity to acquire +their holdings for small considerations, and Transley had proved his +patriotism by facilitating the ambitions of as many men in this position +as came to his attention. The fact that even before the war ended the +farms which he acquired in this way were worth several times the price +he paid was only an incident in the transactions. + +But no word of Transley's domestic affairs reached Grant, who told +himself that he had ceased to be interested in them, but kept an alert +ear nevertheless. It would seem that Transley rather eclipsed his wife +in the public eye. + +So Grant set about with the development of his own farm, and kept his +mind occupied with it and with his larger experiment--except when it +went flirting with thoughts of Phyllis Bruce. He was rather proud of +the figure he had used to Linder, of the head, hands, and heart of +his organization, but to himself he admitted that that figure was +incomplete. There was a soul as well, and that soul was the girl whose +inspiring presence had in some way jerked his mind out of the stagnant +backwaters in which the war had left it. There was no doubt of that. He +had written to Murdoch to come west and undertake new work for him. He +had intimated that the change would be permanent, and that it might be +well to bring the family.... + +He selected a farm where a ridge of foothills overlooked a broad valley +receding into the mountains. The dealer had no idea of selling him this +particular piece of land; they were bound for a half section farther up +the slope when Grant stopped on the brow of the hill to feast his +eyes on the scene that lay before him. It burst upon him with the +unexpectedness peculiar to the foothill valleys; miles of gently +undulating plain, lying apparently far below, but in reality rising in +a sharp ascent toward the snow-capped mountains looking down silently +through their gauze of blue-purple afternoon mist. At distances which +even his trained eye would not attempt to compute lay little round lakes +like silver coins on the surface of the prairie; here and there were +dark green bluffs of spruce; to the right a ribbon of river, blue-green +save where the rapids churned it white, and along its edge a fringe of +leafy cottonwoods; at vast intervals square black plots of plowed land +like sections on a chess-board of the gods, and farm buildings cut so +clear in the mountain atmosphere that the sense of space was lost and +they seemed like child-houses just across the way. + +Grant turned to his companion with an animation in his face which almost +startled the prosaic dealer in real estate. + +"Wonderful! Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "We don't need to go any farther +if you can sell me this." + +"Sure I can sell you this," said the dealer, looking at him somewhat +queerly. "That is, if you want it. I thought you were looking for a +wheat farm." + +The man's total lack of appreciation irritated Grant unreasonably. +"Wheat makes good hog fodder," he retorted, "but sunsets keep alive the +soul. What is the price?" + +Again the dealer gave him a queer sidelong look, and made as though to +argue with him, then suddenly seemed to change his purpose. Perhaps he +reflected that strange things happened to the boys overseas. + +"I'll get you the price in town," he said. "You are sure it will suit?" + +"Suit? No king in Christendom has his palace on a site like this. I'd go +round the world for it." + +"You're the doctor," said the dealer, turning his car. + +Grant completed the purchase, ordered lumber for a house and barn, and +engaged a carpenter to superintend the construction. It was one of his +whims that he would do most of the work himself. + +"I guess I'm rather a man of whims," he reflected, as he stood on +the brow of the hill where the material for his buildings had been +delivered. "It was a whim which first brought me west, and a whim which +has brought me west again. I have a whim about my money, a whim about my +farm, a whim about my buildings. I do not do as other people do, which +is the unpardonable sin. To Linder I am a jester, to Murdoch a fanatic, +to our friend the real estate dealer a fool; I even noticed my honest +carpenter trying to ask me something about shell shock! Well--they're MY +whims, and I get an immense amount of satisfaction out of them." + +The days that followed were the happiest Grant had known since +childhood. The carpenter, a thin, twisted man, bowed with much labor at +the bench, and answering to the name Peter, sold his services by the day +and manifested a sympathy amounting to an indulgence toward the whims of +his employer. So long as the wages were sure Peter cared not whether the +house was finished this year or next--or not at all. He enjoyed Grant's +cooking in the temporary work-shed they had built; he enjoyed Grant's +stories of funny incidents of the war which would crop out at unexpected +moments, and which were always good for a new pipe and a few minutes' +rest; he even essayed certain flights of his own, which showed that +Peter was a creature not entirely without humor. He developed an +appreciation of scenery; he would stand for long intervals gazing across +the valley. Grant was not deceived by these little devices, but he never +took Peter to task for his loitering. He was prepared almost to suspend +his rule that money must not be paid except for service rendered. "If +the old dodger isn't quite paying his way now, no doubt he has more than +paid it many times in the past," he mused. "This is an occasion upon +which to temper justice with mercy." + +But it was in the planning and building of the house he found his real +delight. He laid it out on very modest lines, as became the amount of +money he was prepared to spend. It was to be a single-story bungalow, +with veranda round the south and west. The living-room ran across the +south side; into its east wall he built a capacious fireplace, with +narrow slits of windows to right and left, and in the western wall were +deep French windows commanding the magic of the view across the valley. +The dining-room, too, faced to the west, with more French windows to let +in sun and soul. The kitchen was to the east, and off the kitchen lay +Grant's bedroom, facing also to the east, as becomes a man who rises +early for his day's labors. And then facing the west, and opening off +the dining-room, was what he was pleased to call his whim-room. + +The idea of the whim-room came upon him as he was working out plans on +the smooth side of a board, and thinking about things in general, and +a good deal about Phyllis Bruce, and wondering if he should ever run +across Zen Transley. It struck him all of a sudden, as had the Big Idea +that night when he was on his way home from Murdoch's house. He worked +it out surreptitiously, not allowing even old Peter to see it until +he had made it into his plan, and then he described it just as the +whim-room. But it was to be by all means the best room in the house; +special finishing and flooring lumber were to be bought for it; the +fireplace had to be done in a peculiarly delicate tile; the French +windows must be high and wide and of the most brilliant transparency.... + +The ring of the saw, the trill of the plane, the thwack of the hammer, +were very pleasant music in his ears. Day by day he watched his dwelling +grow with the infinite joy of creating, and night after night he crept +with Peter into the work-shed and slept the sleep of a man tired +and contented. In the long summer evenings the sunlight hung like a +champagne curtain over the mountains even after bedtime, and Grant had +to cut a hole in the wall of the shed that he might watch the dying +colors of the day fade from crimson to purple to blue on the tassels of +cloud-wraith floating in the western sky. At times Linder and Murdoch +would visit him to report progress on the Big Idea, and the three would +sit on a bench in the half-built house, sweet with the fragrance of new +sawdust, and smoke placidly while they determined matters of policy or +administration. It had been something of a disappointment to Grant that +Murdoch had not considered Phyllis Bruce one of "the family." He had +left her, regretfully, in the East, but had made provision that she was +still to have her room in the old Murdoch home. + +"Phyllis would have come west, and gladly, if I could have promised +her a position," Murdoch explained, "but I could not do that, as I knew +nothing of your plans, and a girl can't afford to trifle with her job +these days, Mr. Grant." + +And Grant said nothing, but he thought of his whim-room, and smiled. + +Grant was almost sorry when the house was finished. "There's so much +more enjoyment in doing things than in merely possessing them after +they're done," he philosophized to Linder. "I think that must be the +secret of the peculiar fascination of the West. The East, with all its +culture and conveniences and beauty, can never win a heart which has +once known the West. That is because in the East all the obvious things +are done, but in the West they are still to do." + +"You should worry," said Linder. "You still have the plowing." + +"Yes, and as soon as the stable is finished I am going to buy four +horses and get to work." + +"I supposed you would use a tractor." + +"Not this time. I can admire a piece of machinery, but I can't love it. +I can love horses." + +"You'll be housing them in the whim-room," Linder remarked dryly, and +had to jump to escape the hammer which his chief shied at him. + +But the plowing was really a great experience. Grant had an eye +for horse-flesh, and the four dapple-greys which pressed their fine +shoulders into the harness of his breaking plow might have delighted +the heart of any teamster. As he sat on his steel seat and watched the +colter cut the firm sod with brittle cracking sound as it snapped the +tough roots of the wild roses, or looking back saw the regular terraces +of shiny black mould which marked his progress, he felt that he was +engaged in a rite of almost sacramental significance. + +"To take a substance straight from the hand of the Creator and be the +first in all the world to impose a human will upon it is surely an +occasion for solemnity and thanksgiving," he soliloquized. "How can +anyone be so gross as to see only materialism in such work as this? +Surely it has something of fundamental religion in it! Just as from the +soil springs all physical life, may it not be that deep down in the soil +are, some way, the roots of the spiritual? The soil feeds the city in +two ways; it fills its belly with material food, and it is continually +re-vitalizing its spirit with fresh streams of energy which can come +only from the land. Up from the soil comes all life, all progress, all +development--" + +At that moment Grant's plowshare struck a submerged boulder, and he was +dumped precipitately into that element which he had been so generously +apostrophizing. The well-trained horses came to a stop as he gathered +himself up, none the worse, and regained his seat. + +"That WAS a spill," he commented. "Ditched not only myself, but my whole +train of thought. Never mind; perhaps I was dangerously close to the +development of a new whim, and I am well supplied in that particular +already. Hello, whom have we here?" + +The horses had come to a stop a short distance before the end of the +furrow, and Grant, glancing ahead, saw immediately in front of them a +little chap of four or five obstructing the way. He stood astride of +the furrow with widespread legs bridging the distance from the virgin +prairie to the upturned sod. He was hatless, and curls of silky yellow +hair fell about his round, bright face. His hands were stuck obtrusively +in his trouser pockets. + +"Well, son, what's the news?" said Grant, when the two had measured each +other for a moment. + +"I got braces," the boy replied proudly. "Don't you see?" + +"Why, so you have!" Grant exclaimed. "Come around here until I see them +better." + +So encouraged, the little chap came skipping around the horses, and +exhibited his braces for Grant's admiration. But he had already become +interested in another subject. + +"Are these your horses?" he demanded. + +"Yes." + +"Will they bite?" + +"Why, no, I don't believe they would. They have been very well brought +up." + +"What do you call them?" + +"This one is Prince, on the left, and the others are Queen, and King, +and Knave. I call him Knave because he's always scheming, trying to get +out of his share of the work, and I make him walk on the plowed land, +too." + +"That serves him right," the boy declared. "What's your name?" + +"Why--what's yours?" + +"Wilson." + +"Wilson what?" + +"Just Wilson." + +"What does your mother call you?" + +"Just Wilson. Sometimes daddy calls me Bill." + +"Oh!" + +"What's your name?" + +"Call me The Man on the Hill." + +"Do you live on the hill?" + +"Yes." + +"Is that your house?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you make it?" + +"Yes." + +"All yourself?" + +"No. Peter helped me." + +"Who's Peter?" + +"He is the man who helped me." + +"Oh!" + +These credentials exchanged, the boy fell silent, while Grant looked +down upon him with a whimsical admixture of humor and tenderness. +Suddenly, without a word, the boy dashed as fast as his legs could carry +him to the end of the field, and plunged into a clump of bushes. In a +moment he emerged with something brown and chubby in his arms. + +"He's my teddy," he said to Grant. "He was watching in the bushes to see +if you were a nice man." + +"And am I?" Grant was tempted to ask. + +"Yes." There was no evasion about Wilson. He approved of his new +acquaintance, and said so. + +"Let us give teddy a ride on Prince?" + +"Let's!" + +Grant carefully arranged teddy on the horse's hames, and the boy clapped +his hands with delight. + +"Now let us all go for a ride. You will sit on my knee, and teddy will +drive Prince." + +He took the boy carefully on his knee, driving with one hand and holding +him in place with the other. The little body resting confidently against +his side was a new experience for Grant. + +"We must drive carefully," he remarked. "Here and there are big stones +hidden in the grass. If we were to hit one it might dump us off." + +The little chap chuckled. "Nothing could dump you off," he said. + +Grant reflected that such implicit and unwarranted confidence implied a +great responsibility, and he drove with corresponding care. A mishap now +might nip this very delightful little bud of hero-worship. + +They turned the end of the furrow with a fine jingle of loose +trace-chains, and Prince trotted a little on account of being on the +outer edge of the semicircle. The boy clapped his hands again as teddy +bounced up and down on the great shoulders. + +"Have you a little boy?" he asked, when they were started again. + +"Why, no," Grant confessed, laughing at the question. + +"Why?" + +There was no evading this childish inquisitor. He had a way of pursuing +a subject to bedrock. + +"Well, you see, I've no wife." + +"No mother?" + +"No--no wife. You see--" + +"But I have a mother--" + +"Of course, and she is your daddy's wife. You see they have to have +that--" + +Grant found himself getting into deep water, but the sharp little +intellect had cut a corner and was now ahead of him. + +"Then I'll be your little boy," he said, and, clambering up to Grant's +shoulder pressed a kiss on his cheek. In a sudden burst of emotion Grant +brought his team to a stop and clasped the little fellow in both his +arms. For a moment everything seemed misty. + +"And I have lived to be thirty-two years old and have never known what +this meant," he said to himself. + +"Daddy's hardly ever home, anyway," the boy added, naively. + +"Where is your home?" + +"Down beside the river. We live there in summer." + +And so the conversation continued and the acquaintanceship grew as man +and boy plied back and forth on their mile-long furrow. At length +it occurred to Grant that he should send Wilson home; the boy's long +absence might be occasioning some uneasiness. They stopped at the end +of the field and carefully removed teddy from his place of prestige, +but just at that moment a horsefly buzzing about caused Prince to stamp +impatiently, and the big hoof came down on the boy's foot. Wilson sent +up a cry proportionate to the possibilities of the occasion, and Grant +in alarm tore off the boot and stocking. Fortunately the soil had been +soft, and the only damage done was a slight bruise across the upper part +of the foot. + +"There, there," said Grant, soothingly, caressing the injury with his +fingers. "It will be all right in a minute. Prince didn't mean to do it, +and besides, I've seen much worse than that at the war." + +At the mention of war the boy suspended a cry half uttered. + +"Were you at the war?" he demanded. + +"Yes." + +"Did you kill a German?" + +"I've seen a German killed," said Grant, evading a question which no +soldier cares to discuss. + +"Did you kill 'em in the tummy?" the boy persisted. + +"We'll talk about that to-morrow. Now you hop up on to my shoulders, and +I'll tie the horses and then carry you home." + +He followed the boy's directions until they led him to a path running +among pleasant trees down by the river. Presently he caught a glimpse +of a cottage in a little open space, its brown shingled walls almost +smothered in a riot of sweet peas. + +"That's our house. Don't you like it?" said the boy, who had already +forgotten his injury. + +"I think it is splendid." And Grant, taking his young charge from his +shoulder, stepped up on to the porch and knocked at the screen door. + +In a moment it was opened by Zen Transley. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Sitting on his veranda that evening while the sun dropped low over the +mountains and the sound of horses munching contentedly came up from the +stables, Grant for the twentieth time turned over in his mind the events +of a day that was to stand out as an epochal one in his career. The +meeting with the little boy and the quick friendship and confidence +which had been formed between them; the mishap, and the trip to the +house by the river--these were logical and easily followed. But why, of +all the houses in the world, should it have been Zen Transley's house? +Why, of all the little boys in the world, should this have been the son +of his rival and the only girl he had ever--the girl he had loved most +in all his life? Surely events are ordered to some purpose; surely +everything is not mere haphazard chance! The fatalism of the trenches +forbade any other conclusion; and if this was so, why had he been thrown +into the orbit of Zen Transley? He had not sought her; he had not dreamt +of her once in all that morning while her child was winding innocent +tendrils of affection about his heart. And yet--how the boy had gripped +him! Could it be that in some way he was a small incarnation of the Zen +of the Y.D., with all her clamorous passion expressed now in childish +love and hero-worship? Had some intelligence above his own guided him +into this environment, deliberately inviting him to defy conventions +and blaze a path of broader freedom for himself, and for her? These were +questions he wrestled with as the shadows crept down the mountain slopes +and along the valley at his feet. + +For neither Zen nor himself had connived at the situation which had +made them, of all the people in the world, near neighbors in this silent +valley. Her surprise on meeting him at the door had been as genuine as +his. When she had made sure that the boy was not seriously hurt she had +turned to him, and instinctively he had known that there are some things +which all the weight of passing years can never crush entirely dead. He +loved to rehearse her words, her gestures, the quick play of sympathetic +emotions as one by one he reviewed them. + +"You! I am surprised--I had not known--" She had become confused in her +greeting, and a color that she would have given worlds to suppress crept +slowly through her cheeks. + +"I am surprised, too--and delighted," he had returned. "The little boy +came to me in the field, boasting of his braces." Then they had both +laughed, and she had asked him to come in and tell about himself. + +The living-room, as he recalled it, was marked by the simplicity +appropriate to the summer home, with just a dash of elegance in the +furnishings to suggest that simplicity was a matter of choice and not of +necessity. After soothing Wilson's sobs, which had broken out afresh in +his mother's arms, she had turned him over to a maid and drawn a chair +convenient to Grant's. + +"You see, I am a farmer now," he had said, apologetically regarding his +overalls. + +"What changes have come! But I don't understand; I thought you were +rich--very rich--and that you were promoting some kind of settlement +scheme. Frank has spoken of it." + +"All of which is true. You see, I am a man of whims. I choose to live +joyously. I refuse to fit into a ready-made niche in society. I do what +other people don't do--mainly for that reason. I have some peculiar +notions--" + +"I know. You told me." And it was then that their eyes had met and they +had fallen into a momentary silence. + +"But why are you farming?" she had exclaimed, brightly. + +"For several reasons. First, the world needs food. Food is the greatest +safeguard--I would almost say the only safeguard--against anarchy +and chaos. Then, I want to learn by experience; to prove by my own +demonstrations that my theories are workable--or that they're not. And +then, most of all, I love the prairies and the open life. It's my whim, +and I follow it." + +"You are very wonderful," she had murmured. And then, with startling +directness, "Are you happy?" + +"As happy as I have any right to be. Happier than I have been since +childhood." + +She had risen and walked to the mantelpiece; then, with an apparent +change of impulse, she had turned and faced him. He had noted that +her figure was rounder than in girlhood, her complexion paler, but the +sunlight still danced in her hair, and her reckless force had given way +to a poise that suggested infinite resources of character. + +"Frank has done well, too," she had said. + +"So I have heard. I am told that he has done very well indeed." + +"He has made money, and he is busy and excited over his pursuit of +success--what he calls success. He has given it his life. He thinks of +nothing else--" + +She had stopped suddenly, as though her tongue had trapped her into +saying more than she had intended. + +"What do you think of my summer home?" she had exclaimed, abruptly. +"Come out and admire the sweet peas," and with a gay little flourish +she had led him into the garden. "They tell me Western flowers have +a brilliance and a fragrance which the East, with all its advantages, +cannot duplicate. Is that true?" + +"I believe it is. The East has greater profusion--more varieties--but +the individual qualities do not seem to be so well developed." + +"I see you know something of Eastern flowers," she had said, and he +fancied he had caught a note of banter--or was it inquiry?--in her +voice. Then, with another abrupt change of subject, she had made +him describe his house on the hill. But he had said nothing of the +whim-room. + +"I must go," he had exclaimed at length. "I left the horses tied in the +field." + +"So you must. I shall let Wilson visit you frequently, if he is not a +trouble." + +Then she had chosen a couple of blooms and pinned them on his coat, +laughingly overriding his protest that they consorted poorly with his +costume. And she had shaken hands and said good-bye in the manner of +good friends parting. + +The more Grant thought of it the more was he convinced that in her case, +as in his own, the years had failed to extinguish the spark kindled in +the foothills that night so long ago. He reminded himself continually +that she was Transley's wife, and even while granting the irrevocability +of that fact he was demanding to know why Fate had created for them both +an atmosphere charged with unspoken possibilities. He had turned her +words over again and again, reflecting upon the abrupt angles her speech +had taken. In their few minutes' conversation three times she had had +to make a sudden tack to safer subjects. What had she meant by that +reference to Eastern and Western flowers? His answer reminded him how +well he knew. And the confession about her husband, the worshipper of +success--"what he calls success"--how much tragedy lay under those light +words? + +The valley was filled with shadow, and the level rays of the setting sun +fell on the young man's face and splashed the hill-tops with gold and +saffron as within his heart raged the age-old battle.... But as yet he +felt none of its wounds. He was conscious only of a wholly irrational +delight. + +As the next forenoon passed Grant found himself glancing with increasing +frequency toward the end of the field where the little boy might be +expected to appear. But the day wore on without sign of his young +friend, and the furrows which he had turned so joyously at nine were +dragging leadenly at eleven. He had not thought it possible that a child +could so quickly have won a way to his affections. He fell to wondering +as to the cause of the boy's absence. Had Zen, after a night's +reflection, decided that it was wiser not to allow the acquaintance to +develop? Had Transley, returning home, placed his veto upon it? Or--and +his heart paused at this prospect--had the foot been more seriously hurt +than they had supposed? Grant told himself that he must go over that +night and make inquiry. That would be the neighborly thing to do.... + +But early that afternoon his heart was delighted by the sight of a +little figure skipping joyously over the furrows toward him. He had his +hat crumpled in one hand, and his teddy-bear in the other, and his face +was alive with excitement. He was puffing profusely when he pulled up +beside the plow, and Grant stopped the team while he got his breath. + +"My! My! What is the hurry? I see the foot is all better." + +"We got a pig!" the lad gasped, when he could speak. + +"A pig!" + +"Yessir! A live one, too! He's awful big. A man brought him in a wagon. +That is why I couldn't come this morning." + +Grant treated himself to a humble reflection upon the wisdom of childish +preferments. + +"What are you going to do with him?" + +"Eat him up, I guess. Daddy said there was enough wasted about our house +to keep a pig, so we got one. Aren't you going to take me up?" + +"Of course. But first we must put teddy in his place." + +"I'm to go home at five o'clock," the boy said, when he had got properly +settled. + +The hours slipped by all too quickly, and if the lad's presence did not +contribute to good plowing, it at least made a cheerful plowman. It was +plain that Zen had sufficient confidence in her farmer neighbor to trust +her boy in his care, and his frequent references to his mother had an +interest for Grant which he could not have analyzed or explained. During +the afternoon the merits of the pig were sung and re-sung, and at last +Wilson, after kissing his friend on the cheek and whispering, "I like +you, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill," took his teddy-bear under his arm and +plodded homeward. + +The next morning he came again, but mournfully and slow. There were tear +stains on the little round cheeks. + +"Why, son, what had happened?" said Grant, his abundant sympathies +instantly responding. + +"Teddy's spoiled," the child sobbed. "I set him--on the side of--the pig +pen, and he fell'd in, and the big pig et him--ate him--up. He didn't +'zactly eat him up, either--just kind of chewed him, like." + +"Well that certainly is too bad. But then, you're going to eat the pig +some day, so that will square it, won't it?" + +"I guess it will," said the boy, brightening. "I never thought of that." + +"But we must have a teddy for Prince. See, he is looking around, waiting +for it." Grant folded his coat into the shape of a dummy and set it up +on the hames, and all went merrily again. + +That afternoon, which was Saturday, the boy came thoughtfully and +with an air of much importance. Delving into a pocket he produced an +envelope, somewhat crumpled in transit. It was addressed, "The Man on +the Hill." + +Grant tore it open eagerly and read this note: + + +"DEAR MAN-ON-THE-HILL,--That is the name Wilson calls you, so perhaps +you will let me use it, too. Frank is to be home to-morrow, and will you +come and have dinner with us at six? My father and mother will be here, +and possibly one or two others. You had a clash with my men-folk once, +but you will find them ready enough to make allowance for, even if they +fail to understand, your point of view. Do come.--ZEN. + +"P.S.--It just occurs to me that your associates in your colonization +scheme may want to claim your time on Sunday. If any of them come out, +bring them along. Our table is an extension one, and its capacity has +never yet been exhausted." + + +Although Grant's decision was made at once he took some time for +reflection before writing an acceptance. He was to enter Zen's house +on her invitation, but under the auspices, so to speak, of husband and +parents. That was eminently proper. Zen was a sensible girl. Then there +was a reference to that ancient squabble in the hay meadow. It was +evidently her plan to see the hatchet buried and friendly relations +established all around. Eminently proper and sensible. + +He turned the sheet over and wrote on the back: + + +"DEAR ZEN,--Delighted to come. May have a couple of friends with me, one +of whom you have seen before. Prepare for an appetite long denied the +joys of home cooking.--D. G." + + +It was not until after the child had gone home that Grant remembered he +had addressed Transley's wife by her Christian name. That was the way he +always thought of her, and it slipped on to paper quite naturally. Well, +it couldn't be helped now. + +Grant unhitched early and hurried to his house and the telephone. In a +few minutes he had Linder on the line. + +"Hello, Linder? I want you to go to a store for me and buy a +teddy-bear." + +The chuckle at the other end of the line irritated Grant. Linder had a +strange sense of humor. + +"I mean it. A big teddy, with electric eyes, and a deep bass growl, if +they make 'em that way. The best you can get. Fetch it out to-morrow +afternoon, and come decently dressed, for once. Bring Murdoch along if +you can pry him loose." + +Grant hung up the receiver. "Stupid chap, Linder, some ways," he +muttered. "Why shouldn't I buy a teddy-bear if I want to?" + +Sunday afternoon saw the arrival of Linder and Murdoch, with the largest +teddy the town afforded. "What is the big idea now?" Linder demanded, as +he delivered it into Grant's hands. + +"It is for a little boy I know who has been bereaved of his first +teddy by the activities of the family pig. You will renew some pleasant +acquaintanceships, Linder. You remember Transley and his wife--Zen, of +the Y.D?" + +"You don't say! Thanks for that tip about dressing up. I may explain," +Linder continued, turning to Murdoch, "there was a time when I might +have been an also-ran in the race for Y.D.'s daughter, only Transley +beat me on the getaway." + +"You!" Grant exclaimed, incredulously. + +"You, too!" Linder returned, a great light dawning. + +"Well, Mr. Grant," said Murdoch, "I brought you a good cigar, bought at +the company's expense. It comes out of the organization fund. You must +be sick of those cheap cigars." + +"Since the war it is nothing but Player's," Grant returned, taking +the proffered cigar. "They tell me it has revolutionized the tobacco +business. However, this does smell a bit all right. How goes our +venture, Murdoch? Have I any prospect of being impoverished in a worthy +cause?" + +"None whatever. Your foreman here is spending every dollar in a way +to make you two in spite of your daft notion--begging your pardon, +sir--about not taking profits. The subscribers are coming along for +stock, but fingering it gently, as though they can't well believe +there's no catch in it. They say it doesn't look reasonable, and I tell +them no more it is." + +"And then they buy it?" + +"Aye, they do. That's human nature. There's as many members booked now +as can be accommodated in the first colony. I suppose they reason that +they will be sure of their winter's housing, anyway." + +"You don't seem to have much faith in human nature, Murdoch." + +"Nor have I. Not in that kind of human nature which is always wanting +something for nothing." + +Linder's report was more cheerful. The houses and barns were built and +were now being painted, the plowing was done, and the fences were being +run. By the use of a triangular system of survey twelve farm homes had +been centralized in one little community where a community building +would be erected which would be used as a school in daytime, a +motion-picture house at night, and a church on Sunday. A community +secretary would have his office here, and would have charge of a select +little library of fiction, poetry, biography, and works of reference. +The leading periodicals dealing with farm problems, sociology, and +economics, as well as lighter subjects, would be on file. In connection +with this building would be an assembly-room suitable for dances, +social events, and theatricals, and equipped with a player piano and +concert-size talking machine. Arrangements were being made for a weekly +exchange of records, for a weekly musical evening by artists from +the city, for a semi-monthly vaudeville show, and for Sunday meetings +addressed by the best speakers on the more serious topics of the time. + +"What has surprised me in making these arrangements," Linder confessed, +"is the comparatively small outlay they involve. The building will cost +no more than many communities spend on school and church which they use +thirty hours a week and three hours a week respectively. This one can be +used one hundred and sixty-eight hours a week, if needed. Lecturers on +many subjects can be had for paying their expenses; in some cases they +are employed by the Government, and will come without cost. Amateur +theatrical companies from the city will be glad to come in return for +an appreciative audience and a dance afterward, with a good fill-up on +solid farm cooking. Even some of the professionals can be had on these +terms. Of course, before long we will produce our own theatricals. + +"Then there is to be a plunge bath big enough to swim in, open to men +and women alternate nights, and to children every day. There will be a +pool-room, card-room, and refreshment buffet; also a quiet little room +for women's social events, and an emergency hospital ward. I think we +should hire a trained nurse who would not be too dignified to cook and +serve meals when there's no business doing in the hospital. You know +how everyone gets hankering now and then for a meal from home,--not that +it's any better, but it's different. I suppose there are farmer's wives +who don't get a meal away from home once a year. I'm going to change all +that, if I have to turn cook myself!" + +"Bully for you, Linder!" said Grant, clapping him on the shoulder. "I +believe you actually are enthusiastic for once." + +"I understand my orders are to make the country give the city a run for +its money, and I'm going to do it, or break you. If all I've mentioned +won't do it I've another great scheme in storage." + +"Good! What is it?" + +"I am inventing a machine that will make a noise like a trolley-car and +a smell like a sewer. That will add the last touch in city refinements." + +When the laugh over Linder's invention had subsided Murdoch broached +another. + +"The office work is becoming pretty heavy, Mr. Grant, and I'm none too +confident in the help I have. Now if I could send for Miss Bruce--" + +"What do you think you should pay her?" + +"I should say she is worth a hundred dollars a month." + +"Then she must be worth two hundred. Wire her to come and start her at +that figure." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Promptly at six Linder drew his automobile up in front of the Transley +summer home with Grant and Murdoch on board. Wilson had been watching, +and rushed down upon them, but before he could clamber up on Grant +a great teddy-bear was thrust into his arms and sent him, wild with +delight, to his mother. + +"Look, mother! Look what The-Man-on-the-Hill brought! See! He has fire +in his eyes!" + +Transley and Y.D. met the guests at the gate. "How do, Grant? Glad to +see you, old man," said Transley, shaking his hand cordially. "The wife +has had so many good words for you I am almost jealous. What ho, Linder! +By all that's wonderful! You old prairie dog, why did you never look me +up? I was beginning to think the Boche had got you." + +Grant introduced Murdoch, and Y.D. received them as cordially as had +Transley. "Glad to see you fellows back," he exclaimed. "I al'us said +the Western men 'ud put a crimp in the Kaiser, spite o' hell an' high +water!" + +"One thing the war has taught us," said Grant, modestly, "is that men +are pretty much alike, whether they come from west or east or north or +south. No race has a monopoly of heroism." + +"Well, come on in," Transley beckoned, leading the way. "Dinner will be +ready sharp on time twenty minutes late. Not being a married man, Grant, +you will not understand that reckoning. You'll have to excuse Mrs. +Transley a few minutes; she's holding down the accelerator in the +kitchen. Come in; I want you to meet Squiggs." + +Squiggs proved to be a round man with huge round tortoise-shell glasses +and round red face to match. He shook hands with a manner that suggested +that in doing so he was making rather a good fellow of himself. + +"We must have a little lubrication, for Y.D.'s sake," said Transley, +producing a bottle and glasses. "I suppose it was the dust on the plains +that gave these old cow punchers a thirst which never can be slaked. +These be evil days for the old-timers. Grant?" + +"Not any, thanks." + +"No? Well, there's no accounting for tastes. Squiggs?" + +"I'm a lawyer," said Squiggs, "and as booze is now ultra vires I do +my best to keep it down," and Mr. Squiggs beamed genially upon his +pleasantry and the full glass in his hand. + +"I take a snort when I want it and I don't care who knows it," said Y.D. +"I al'us did, and I reckon I'll keep on to the finish. It didn't snuff +me out in my youth and innocence, anyway. Just the same, I'm admittin' +it's bad medicine in onskilful hands. Here's ho!" + +The glasses had just been drained when Mrs. Transley entered the room, +flushed but radiant from a strenuous half hour in the kitchen. + +"Well, here you are!" she exclaimed. "So glad you could come, Mr. Grant. +Why, Mr. Linder! Of all people--This IS a pleasure. And Mr.--?" + +"Mr. Murdoch," Transley supplied. + +"My chief of staff; the man who persists in keeping me rich," Grant +elaborated. + +"I mustn't keep you waiting longer. Dinner is ready. Dad, you are to +carve." + +"Hanged if I will! I'm a guest here, and I stand on my rights," Y.D. +exploded. + +"Then you must do it, Frank." + +"I suppose so," said Transley, "although all I get out of a meal when +I have to carve is splashing and profanity. You know, Squiggs, I've +figured it out that this practice of requiring the nominal head of the +house to carve has come down from the days when there wasn't usually +enough to go 'round, and the carver had to make some fine decisions +and, perhaps, maintain them by force. It has no place under modern +civilization." + +"Except that someone must do it, and it's about the only household +responsibility man has not been able to evade," said Mrs. Transley. + +As they entered the dining-room Zen's mother, whiter and it seemed +even more distinguished by the years, joined them, accompanied by Mrs. +Squiggs, a thin woman much concerned about social status, and the party +was complete. + +Transley managed the carving more skilfully than his protest might have +suggested, and there was a lull in the conversation while the first +demands of appetite were being satisfied. + +"Tell us about your settlement scheme, Mr. Grant," Mrs. Transley +urged when it seemed necessary to find a topic. "Mr. Grant has quite a +wonderful plan." + +"Yes, wise us up, old man," said Transley. "I've heard something of it, +but never could see through it." + +"It's all very simple," Grant explained. "I am providing the capital to +start a few families on farms. Instead of lending the money directly to +them I am financing a company in which each farmer must subscribe for +stock to the value of the land he is to occupy. His stock he will pay +for with a part of the proceeds of each year's crop, until it is paid in +full, when he becomes a paid-up shareholder, subject to no further call +except a levy which may be made for running expenses." + +"And then your advances are returned to you with interest," Squiggs +suggested. "A very creditable plan of benefaction; very creditable, +indeed." + +"No, that is not the idea. In the first place, I am accepting no +interest on my advances, and in the second place the money, when repaid +by the shareholders, will not be returned to me, but will be used to +establish another colony on the same basis, and so on--the movement will +be extended from group to group." + +Mr. Squiggs readjusted his large round tortoise-shell glasses. + +"Do I understand that you are charging no interest?" + +"Not a cent." + +"Then where do YOU come in?" + +"I had hoped to make it clear that I am not seeking to 'come in.' You +see, the money I am doing this with is not really mine at all." + +"Not yours?" cried a chorus of voices. + +"No. Mr. Squiggs, you are a lawyer, and therefore a man of perspicuity +and accurate definitions. What is money?" + +"You flatter me. I should say that money is a medium for the exchange of +value." + +"Very well. Therefore, if a man accepts money without giving value for +it in exchange he is violating the fundamental principle underlying the +use of money. He is, in short, an economic outlaw." + +"I am afraid I don't follow you." + +"Let me illustrate by my own experience, and that of my family. My +father was possessed of a piece of land which at one time had little or +no value. Eventually it became of great value, not through anything he +had done, but as a result of the natural law that births exceed deaths. +Yet he, although he had done nothing to create this value, was able, +through a faulty economic system, to pocket the proceeds. Then, as +a result of the advantages which his wealth gave him, he was able to +extract from society throughout all the remainder of his life value out +of all proportion to any return he made for it. Finally it came down to +me. Holding my peculiar belief, which my right and left bower consider +sinful and silly respectively, I found money forced upon me, regardless +of the fact that I had given absolutely no value in exchange. Now if +money is a medium for the exchange of value and I receive money without +giving value for it, it is plain that someone else must have parted +with money without receiving value in return. The thing is basically +immoral." + +"Your father couldn't take it with him." + +"But why should _I_ have it? I never contributed a finger-weight of +service for it. From society the money came and to society it should +return." + +"You should worry," said Transley. "Society isn't worrying over you. +Some more of the roast beef?" + +"No, thank you. But to come down to date. It seems that I cannot get +away from this wealth which dogs me at every turn. Before enlisting I +had been margining certain steel stocks, purely in the ordinary course +of affairs. With the demands made by the war on the steel industry my +stocks went up in price and my good friend Murdoch was able to report +that it had made a fortune for me while I was overseas.... And we call +ourselves an intelligent people!" + +"And so we are," said Mr. Squiggs. "We stick to a system we know to +be sound. It has weathered all the gales of the past, and promises to +weather those of the future. I tell you, Grant, communism won't +work. You can't get away from the principle of individual reward for +individual effort." + +"My dear fellow, that's exactly what I'm pleading for. I have no +patience with any claim that all men are equal, or capable of rendering +equal service to society, and I want payment to be made according to +service rendered, not according to the freaks of a haphazard system such +as I have been trying to describe." + +"But how are you going to bring that golden age about?" Murdoch +inquired. + +"By education. The first thing is to accept the principle that wealth +cannot be accepted except in exchange for full-measure service. You, +Mrs. Transley--you teach your little boy that he must not steal. As he +grows older simply widen your definition of theft to include receiving +value without giving value in exchange. When all the mothers begin +teaching that principle the golden age which Mr. Murdoch inquires about +will be in sight." + +"How would you drive it home?" said Y.D. "We have too many laws +already." + +"Let us agree on that. The acceptance of this principle will make half +the laws now cluttering our statute books unnecessary. I merely urge +that we should treat the CAUSE of our economic malady rather than the +symptoms." + +"Theoretically your idea has much to commend it, but it is quite +impracticable," Mr. Squiggs announced with some finality. "It could +never be brought into effect." + +"If a corporation can determine the value of the service rendered by +each of its hundred thousand employees, why cannot a nation determine +the value of the service rendered by each of its hundred million +citizens?" + +"THERE'S something for you to chew on, Squiggs," said Transley. "You +argue your case well, Grant; I believe you have our legal light rather +feazed--that's the word, isn't it, Mr. Murdoch?--for once. I confess a +good deal of sympathy with your point of view, but I'm afraid you can't +change human nature." + +"I am not trying to do that. All that needs changing is the popular idea +of what is right and what is wrong. And that idea is changing with a +rapidity which is startling. Before the war the man who made money, by +almost any means, was set up on a pedestal called Success. Moralists +pointed to him as one to be emulated; Sunday school papers printed +articles to show that any boy might follow in his footsteps and become +great and respected. To-day, for following precisely the same practices, +the nation demands that he be thrown into prison; the Press heaps +contumely upon him; he has become an object of suspicion in the popular +eye. This change, world wide and quite unforeseen, has come about in +five years." + +"Is that due to a new sense of right and wrong, or to just old-fashioned +envy of the rich which now feels strong enough to threaten where it used +to fawn?" Y.D.'s wife asked, and Grant was spared a hard answer by the +rancher's interruption, "Hit the profiteer as hard as you like. He's got +no friends." + +"That depends upon who is the profiteer--a point which no one seems +to have settled. In the cities you may even hear prosperous ranchers +included in that class--absurd as that must seem to you," Grant added, +with a smile to Y.D. "Require every man to give service according to +his returns and you automatically eliminate all profiteers, large and +small." + +"But you will admit," said Mrs. Squiggs, "that we must have some +well-off people to foster culture and give tone to society generally?" + +"I agree that the boy who is brought up in a home with a bath tub, and +all that that stands for, is likely to be a better citizen than the boy +who doesn't have that advantage. That's why I want every home to have a +bath tub." + +Mrs. Squiggs subsided rather heavily. In youth her Saturday night +ablutions had been taken in the middle of the kitchen floor. + +"I have a good deal of sympathy," said Transley, "with any movement +which has for its purpose the betterment of human conditions. Any +successful man of to-day will admit, if he is frank about it, that he +owes his success as much to good luck as to good judgment. If you could +find a way, Grant, to take the element of luck out of life, perhaps +you would be doing a service which would justify you in keeping +those millions which worry you so. But I can't see that it makes any +difference to the prosperity of a country who owns the wealth in it, so +long as the wealth is there and is usefully employed. Money doesn't +grow unless it works, and if it works it serves Society just the same as +muscle does. You could put all your wealth in a strong-box and bury it +under your house up there on the hill, and it wouldn't increase a nickel +in a thousand years, but if you put it to work it makes money for +you and money for other people as well. I'm a little nervous about +new-fangled notions. It's easier to wreck the ship than to build a new +one, which may not sail any better. What the world needs to-day is the +gospel of hard work, and everybody, rich and poor, on the job for all +that's in him. That's the only way out." + +"We seem to have much in common," Grant returned. "Hard work is the only +way out, and the best way to encourage hard work is to find a system by +which every man will be rewarded according to the service rendered." + +At this point Mrs. Transley arose, and the men moved out into the +living-room to chat on less contentious subjects. After a time the women +joined them, and Grant presently found himself absorbed in conversation +with the old rancher's wife. Zen seemed to pay but little attention +to him, and for the first time he began to realize what consummate +actresses women are. Had Transley been the most suspicious of +husbands--and in reality his domestic vision was as guileless as that of +a boy--he could have caught no glint of any smoldering spark of the long +ago. Grant found himself thinking of this dissembling quality as one of +nature's provisions designed for the protection of women, much as the +sombre plumage of the prairie chicken protects her from the eye of the +sportsman. For after all the hunting instinct runs through all men, be +the game what it may. + +Before they realized how the time had flown Linder was protesting +that he must be on his way. At the gate Transley put a hand on Grant's +shoulder. + +"I'm prepared to admit," he said, "that there's a whole lot in this old +world that needs correcting, but I'm not sure that it can be corrected. +You have a right to try out your experiments, but take a tip and keep +a comfortable cache against the day when you'll want to settle down and +take things as they are. It is true and always has been true that a man +who is worth his salt, when he wants a thing, takes it--or goes down +in the attempt. The loser may squeal, but that seems to be the path of +progress. You can't beat it." + +"Well, we'll see," said Grant, laughing. "Sometimes two men, each worth +his salt, collide." + +"As in the meadow of the South Y.D.," said Transley, with a smile. "You +remember that, Y.D.--when our friend here upset the haying operations?" + +"Sure, I remember, but I'm not holdin' it agin him now. A dead horse is +a dead horse, an' I don't go sniffin' it." + +"Perhaps I ought to say, though," Grant returned, "that I really do not +know how the iron pegs got into that meadow." + +"And I don't know how your haystacks got afire, but I can guess. +Remember Drazk? A little locoed, an' just the crittur to pull off a fool +stunt like that. When the fire swept up the valley, instead of down, he +made his get-away and has never been seen since. I reckon likely there +was someone in Landson's gang capable o' drivin' pegs without consultin' +the boss." + +The little group were standing in the shadow and Grant had no +opportunity to notice the sudden blanching of Zen's face at the mention +of Drazk. + +"You're wrong about his not having been seen again, Y.D.," said Grant. +"He managed to locate me somewhere in France. That reminds me, he had a +message for you, Mrs. Transley. I'm afraid Drazk is as irresponsible as +ever, provided he hasn't passed out, which is more than likely." + +Grant shook hands cordially with Y.D. and his wife, with Squiggs and +Mrs. Squiggs, with Transley and Mrs. Transley. Any inclination he may +have felt to linger over Zen's hand was checked by her quick withdrawal +of it, and there was something in her manner quite beyond his +understanding. He could have sworn that the self-possessed Zen Transley +was actually trembling. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +The next day Wilson paid his usual visit to the field where Grant was +plowing, and again was he the bearer of a message. With much difficulty +he managed to extricate the envelope from a pocket. + +"Dear Mr. Grant," it read, "I am so excited over a remark you dropped +last night I must see you again as soon as possible. Can you drop in +to-night, say at eight. Yours,--ZEN." + +Grant read the message a second time, wondering what remark of his could +have occasioned it. As he recalled the evening's conversation it had +been most about his experiment, and he had a sense that he had occupied +a little more of the stage than strictly good form would have suggested. +However, it was HIS scheme that had been under discussion, and he did +not propose to let it suffer for lack of a champion. But what had he +said that could be of more than general interest to Zen Transley? For a +moment he wondered if she had created a pretext upon which to bring him +to the house by the river, and then instantly dismissed that thought as +unworthy of him. At any rate it was evident that his addressing her by +her Christian name in the last message had given no offence. This +time she had not called him "The Man-on-the-Hill," and there was no +suggestion of playfulness in the note. Then the signature, "Yours, Zen"; +that might mean everything, or it might mean nothing. Either it was +purely formal or it implied a very great deal indeed. Grant reflected +that it could hardly be interpreted anywhere between those two extremes, +and was it reasonable to suppose that Zen would use it in an ENTIRELY +formal sense? If it had been "yours truly," or "yours sincerely," or +any such stereotyped conclusion, it would not have called for a second +thought, but the simple word "yours"-- + +"If only she were," thought Grant, and felt the color creeping to his +face at the thought. It was the first time he had dared that much. +He had not bothered to wonder much where or how this affair must end. +Through all the years that had passed since that night when she had +fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he had watched the ribbons of fire +rising and falling in the valley, and the smell of grass-smoke had been +strong in his nostrils, through all those years Zen had been to him a +sweet, evasive memory to be dreamed over and idealized, a wild, daring, +irresponsible incarnation of the spirit of the hills. Even in these last +few days he had followed the path simply because it lay before him. He +had not sought her out in all that great West; he had been content with +his dream of the Zen of years gone by; if Fate had brought him once +more within the orbit of his star surely Fate had a purpose in all its +doings. One who has learned to believe that no bullet will find him +unless "his name and number are on it" has little difficulty in excusing +his own indiscretions by fatalistic reasoning. + +He wrote on the back of the note, "Look for me at eight," and then, +observing that the boy had not brought teddy along, he inquired +solicitously for the health of the little pet. + +"He's all right, but mother wouldn't let me bring him. Said I might +lose him." The tone in which the last words were spoken implied just how +impossible such a thing was. Lose teddy! No one but a mother could think +such an absurdity. + +"But I got a knife!" Wilson exclaimed, his mind darting to a happier +subject. "Daddy gave it to me. Will you sharpen it? It is as dull as a +pig." + +Grant was to learn during the day that all the boy's figures of speech +were now hung on the family pig. The knife was as dull as a pig; the +plow was as rough as a pig; the horses, when they capered at a corner, +were as wild as a pig; even Grant himself, while he held the little chap +firmly on his knee, received the doubtful compliment of being as strong +as a pig. He went through the form of sharpening the knife on the +leather lines of the harness, and was pleased to discover that Wilson, +with childish dexterity of imagination, now pronounced it as sharp as a +pig. + +The boy did not return to the field in the afternoon, and Grant +spent the time in a strange admixture of happiness over the pleasant +companionship he had found in this little son of the prairies and +anticipation of his meeting with Zen that night. All his reflection had +failed to suggest the subject so interesting to her as to bring forth +her unconventional note, but it was enough for him that his presence was +desired. As to the future--he would deal with that when he came to it. +As evening approached the horses began their usual procedure of turning +their heads homeward at the end of each furrow. Beginning about five +o'clock, they had a habit of assuming that each furrow was obviously the +last one for the day, and when the firm hand on the lines brought them +sharply back to position they trudged on with an apologetic air which +seemed to say that of course they were quite willing to work another +hour or two but they supposed their master would want to be on his way +home. Today, however, he surprised them, and the first time they turned +their heads he unhitched, and, throwing himself lightly across Prince's +ample back, drove them to their stables. + +Grant prepared his supper of bacon and eggs and fried potatoes, bread +and jam and black tea, and ate it from the kitchen table as was his +habit except on state occasions. Sometimes a touch of the absurdity of +his behavior would tickle his imagination--he, who might dine in the +midst of wealth and splendor, with soft lights beating down upon him, +soft music swelling through arching corridors, soft-handed waiters +moving about on deep, silent carpetings, perhaps round white shoulders +across the table and the faint smell of delicate perfumes--that he +should prefer to eat from the white oilcloth of his kitchen table was a +riddle far beyond any ordinary intellect. And yet he was happy in this +life; happy in his escape from the tragic routine of being decently +civilized; happier, he knew, than he ever could be among all the +artificial pleasures that wealth could buy him. Sometimes, as a +concession to this absurdity, he would set his table in the dining-room +with his best dishes, and eat his silent meal very grandly, until the +ridiculousness of it all would overcome him and he would jump up with a +boyish whoop and sweep everything into the kitchen. + +But to-night he had no time for make-belief. Supper ended, he put +a basin of water on the stove and went out to give his horses their +evening attention, after which he had a wash and a careful shave and +dressed himself in a light grey suit appropriate to an autumn evening. +And then he noticed that he had just time to walk to Transley's house +before eight o'clock. + +Zen received him at the door; the maid had gone to a neighbor's, she +said, and Wilson was in bed. It was still bright outside, but the +sheltered living-room, to which she showed him, was wrapped in a soft +twilight. + +"Shall we have a lamp, or the fireplace?" she asked, then inferentially +answered by saying that a cool wind was blowing down from the mountains. +"I had the maid build the fire," she continued, and he could see the +outline of her form bending over the grate. She struck a match; its glow +lit up her cheeks and hair; in a moment the dry wood was crackling and +ribbons of blue smoke were curling into the chimney. + +"I have been so anxious to see you--again," she said, drawing a chair +not far from his. "A chance remark of yours last night brought to memory +many things--things I have been trying to forget." Then, abruptly, "Did +you ever kill a man?" + +"You know I was in the war," he returned, evading her question. + +"Yes, and you do not care to dwell on that phase of it. I should not +have asked you, but you will be the better able to understand. For years +I have lived under the cloud of having killed a man." + +"You!" + +"Yes. The day of the fire--you remember?" + +Grant had started from his chair. "I can't believe it!" he exclaimed. +"There must have been justification!" + +"YOU had justification at the Front, but it doesn't make the memory +pleasant. I had justification, but it has haunted me night and day. And +then, last night you said he was still alive, and my soul seemed to rise +up again and say, 'I am free!'" + +"Who?" + +"Drazk." + +"DRAZK!" + +"Yes. I thought I had killed him that day of the fire. It is rather an +unpleasant story, and you will excuse me repeating the details, I know. +He attacked me--we were both on horseback, in the river--I suppose +he was crazed with his wild deed, and less responsible than usual. He +dragged me from my horse and I fought with him in the water, but he was +much too strong. I had concluded that to drown myself, and perhaps him, +was the only way out, when I saw a leather thong floating in the water +from the saddle. By a ruse I managed to flip it around his neck, and the +next moment he was at my mercy. I had no mercy then. I understand how +it might be possible to kill prisoners. I pulled it tight, tight--pulled +till I saw his face blacken and his eyes stand out. He went down, but +still I pulled. And then after a little I found myself on shore. + +"I suppose it was the excitement of the fire that carried me on through +the day, but at night--you remember?--there came a reaction, and I +couldn't keep awake. I suddenly seemed to feel that I was safe, and I +could sleep." + +Grant had resumed his seat. He was deeply moved by this strange +confidence; he bent his eyes intently upon her face, now shining in the +ruddy light from the fire-place. Her frank reference to the event that +night seemed to create a new bond between them; he knew now, if ever +he had doubted it, that Zen Transley had treasured that incident in her +heart even as he had treasured it. + +"I was so embarrassed after the--the accident, you know," she continued. +"I knew you must know I had been in the water. For days and weeks I +expected every hour to hear of the finding of the body. I expected to +hear the remark dropped casually by every new visitor at the ranch, +'Drazk's body was found to-day in the river. The Mounted Police are +investigating.' But time went on and nothing was heard of it. It would +almost have been a relief to me if it had been discovered. If I had +reported the affair at once, as I should have done, all would have been +different, but having kept my secret for a while I found it impossible +to confess it later. It was the first time I ever felt my self-reliance +severely shaken.... But what was his message, and why did you not tell +me before?" + +"Because I attached no value to it; because I was, perhaps, a little +ashamed of it. I learned something of his weaknesses at the Front. +According to Drazk's statement of it he won the war, and could as easily +win another, if occasion presented itself, so when he said, 'If ever you +see Y.D.'s daughter tell her I'm well; she'll be glad to hear it,' I put +it down to his usual boasting and thought no more about it. I thought he +was trying to impress me with the idea that you were interested in him, +which was a very absurd supposition, as I saw it." + +"Well, now you know," she said, with a little laugh. "I'm glad it's off +my mind." + +"Of course your husband knows?" + +"No. That made it harder. I never told Frank." + +She arose and walked to the fire-place, pretending to stir the logs. +When she had seated herself again she continued. + +"It has not been easy for me to tell all things to Frank. Don't +misunderstand me; he has been a model husband, according to my +standards." + +"According to your standards?" + +"According to my standards--when I married him. If standards were +permanent I suppose happy matings would be less unusual. A young couple +must have something in common in order to respond at all to each other's +attractions, but as they grow older they set up different standards, and +they drift apart." + +She paused, and Grant sat in silence, watching the glow of the firelight +upon her cheek. + +"Why don't you smoke?" she exclaimed, suddenly springing up. "Let me +find you some of Frank's cigars." + +Grant protested that he smoked too much. She produced a box of cigars +and extended them to him. Then she held a match while he got his light. + +"Your standards have changed?" said Grant, taking up the thread when she +had sat down again. + +"They have. They have changed more than Frank's, which makes me feel +rather at fault in the matter. How could he know that I would change my +ideal of what a husband should be?" + +"Why shouldn't he know? That is the course of development. Without +changing ideals there would be stagnation." + +"Perhaps," she returned, and he thought he caught a note of weariness +in her voice. "But I don't blame Frank--now. I rather blame him then. +He swept me off my feet; stampeded me. My parents helped him, and I was +only half disposed to resist. You see, I had this other matter on my +mind, and for the first time in my life I felt the need of protection. +Besides, I took a matter-of-fact view of marriage. I thought that +sentiment--love, if you like--was a thing of books, an invention of +poets and fiction writers. Practical people would be practical in their +marriages, as in their other undertakings. To marry Frank seemed a very +practical course. My father assured me that Frank had in him qualities +of large success. He would make money; he would be a prominent man in +circles of those who do things. These predictions he has fulfilled. +Frank has been all I expected--then." + +"But you have changed your opinion of marriage--of the essentials of +marriage?" + +"Do YOU need to ask that? I was beginning to see the light--beginning to +know myself--even before I married him, but I didn't stop to analyze. +I plunged ahead, as I have always done, trusting not to get into any +position from which I could not find a way out. But there are some +positions from which there is no way out." + +Grant reflected that possibly his experience had been somewhat like hers +in that respect. He, too, had been following a path, unconcerned about +its end.... Possibly for him, too, there would be no way out. + +"Frank has been all I expected of him," she repeated, as though anxious +to do her husband justice. "He has made money. He spends it generously. +If I live here modestly, with but one maid, it is because of a +preference which I have developed for simplicity. I might have a dozen +if I asked it, and I think Frank is somewhat surprised, and, it may +be, disappointed, that I don't ask it. Although not a man for display +himself, he likes to see me make display. It's a strange thing, isn't +it, that a husband should wish his wife to be admired by other men?" + +"Some are successful in that," Grant remarked. + +"Some are more successful than they intend to be." + +"Frank, for instance?" he queried, pointedly. + +"I have not sought any man's admiration," she went on, with her +astonishing frankness. "I am too independent for that. What do I care +for their admiration? But every woman wants love." + +Grant had changed his position, and sat with his elbows upon his knees, +his chin resting upon his hands. "You know, Zen," he said, using her +Christian name deliberately, "the picture I drew that day by the river? +That is the picture I have carried in my mind ever since--shall carry to +the end. Perhaps it has led me to be imprudent--" + +"Imprudent?" + +"Has brought me here to-night, for example." + +"You had my invitation." + +"True. But why develop another situation which, as you say, has no way +out?" + +"Do you want to go?" + +"No, Zen, no! I want to stay--with you--always! But organized society +must respect its own conventions." + +She arose and stood by his chair, letting her hand fall beside his +cheek. + +"You silly boy!" she said. "You didn't organize society, nor subscribe +to its conventions. Still, I suppose there must be a code of some kind, +and we shall respect it. You had your chance, Denny, and you passed it +up." + +"Had my chance?" + +"Yes. I refused you in words, I know, but actions speak louder--" + +"But when you told me you were engaged what could I honorably do?" + +"More--very much more--than you can do now. You could have shown me my +mistake. How much better to have learned it then, from you, than later, +by my own experience! You could have swept me off my feet, just as Frank +did. You did nothing. If I had sought evidence to prove how impractical +you are, as compared with my super-practical husband, I would have found +it in the way you handled, or rather failed to handle, that situation." + +"What would your super-practical husband do now if he were in my +position?" he said, drawing her hands into his. + +"I don't know." + +"You do! He says that any man worth his salt takes what he wants in this +world. Am I worth my salt?" + +"There are different standards of value.... Goodness! how late it is! +You must go now, and don't come back before, let us say, Wednesday." + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Whatever may have been Grant's philosophy about the unwisdom of creating +a situation which had no way out he found himself looking forward +impatiently to Wednesday evening. An hour or two at Zen's fireside +provided the social atmosphere which his bachelor life lacked, and as +Transley seemed unappreciative of his domestic privileges, remaining in +town unless his business brought him out to the summer home, it seemed +only a just arrangement that they should be shared by one who valued +them at their worth. + +The Wednesday evening conversation developed further the understanding +that was gradually evolving between them, but it afforded no solution of +the problem which confronted them. Zen made no secret of the error she +had made in the selection of her husband, but had no suggestions to +offer as to what should be done about it. She seemed quite satisfied +to enjoy Grant's conversation and company, and let it go at that--an +impossible situation, as the young man assured himself. She dismissed +him again at a quite respectable hour with some reference to Saturday +evening, which Grant interpreted as an invitation to call again at that +time. + +When he entered Saturday night it was evident that she had been +expecting him. A cool wind was again blowing down from the mountains, +laden with the soft smell of melting snow, and the fire in the grate was +built ready for the match. + +"I am my own maid to-night," she said, as she stooped to light it. +"Sarah usually goes to town Saturday evening. Now we shall see if +someone is in good humor." + +The fire curled up pleasantly about the wood. "There!" she exclaimed, +clapping her hands. "All is well. You see how economical I am; if we +must spend on fires we save on light. I love a wood fire; I suppose it +is something which reaches back to the original savage in all of us." + +"To the days when our great ancestors roasted their victims while they +danced about the coals," said Grant, completing the picture. "And yet +they say that human nature doesn't change." + +"Does it? I think our methods change with our environments, but that is +all. Wasn't it you who propounded a theory about an age when men took +what they wanted by force giving way to an age in which they took what +they wanted by subtlety? Now, I believe, you want society to restrain +the man of clever wits just as it has learned to restrain the man of big +biceps. And when that is done will not man discover some other means of +taking what he wants?" + +She had seated herself beside him on a divanette and the joy of her +nearness fired Grant with a very happy intoxication. It recalled that +night on the hillside when, as she had since said, she felt safe in his +protection. + +"I am really very interested," she continued. "I followed the argument +at the table on Sunday with as much concern as if it had been my pet +hobby, not yours, that was under discussion. If I said little it was +because I did not wish to appear too interested." + +Her amazing frankness brought Grant, figuratively, to his feet at every +turn. She seemed to have no desire to conceal her interest in him, her +attachment for him. Hers was such candor as might well be born of +the vast hillsides, the great valleys, the brooding silences of her +girlhood. Yet it seemed obvious that she must be less candid with +Transley.... + +"I am glad you were interested," he answered. "I was afraid I was rather +boring the company, but it was MY scheme and I had to stand up for it. I +fear I made few converts." + +"You were dealing with practical men," she returned, "and practical +men are never converted to a new idea. That is one of the things I have +learned in my years of married life, Dennison. Practical men find many +ways of turning an old idea to advantage, but they never evolve new +ones. New ideas come from dreamers--theoretical fellows like you." + +"The dreamer is always a lap ahead of the rest of civilization, and the +funny thing is that the rest always thinks itself much more sane than +the dreamer, out there blazing the way." + +"That's not remarkable," she replied. "That's logical. The dreamer +blazes the way--proves the possibilities of his dream--and the practical +man follows it up and makes money out of it. To a practical man there is +nothing more practical than making money." + +"Did I convert you?" he pursued. + +"I was not in need of conversion. I have been a follower of the new +faith--an imperfect and limping follower, it is true--ever since you +first announced it." + +"I believe you are laughing at me." + +"Certainly not! I have been brought up in an environment where there +is no standard higher than the money standard. Not that my father or +husband are dishonest; they are rigidly honest according to their ideas +of honesty. But to say that a man must give actual service for every +dollar he gets or it isn't his--that is a conception of honesty so far +beyond them as to be an absurdity. But I have wanted to ask you how you +are going to enforce this new idealism." + +"Idealism is not enforced. We aspire to it; we may not attain to it. +Christianity itself is idealism--the idealism of unselfishness. That +ideal has never been attained by any considerable number of people, and +yet it has drawn all humanity on to somewhat higher levels as surely as +the moon draws the tide. Superficial persons in these days are drawing +pictures of the failure of Christianity, which has failed in part; but +they could find a much more depressing subject by painting a world from +which all Christian idealism had been removed." + +"But surely you have some plan for putting your theories to the +test--some plan which will force those to whom idealism appeals in vain. +We do not trust to a man's idealism to keep him from stealing; we put +him in jail." + +"All that will come in time, but the question for the seeker after truth +is not 'Will it work?' but 'Is it true?' I fancy I can see the practical +men of Moses' time leaning over his shoulder as he inscribed the Ten +Commandments and remarking 'No use of putting that down, Moses; you can +never enforce it.' But Moses put it down and left the enforcement to +natural law and the growing intelligence of the generations which have +followed him. We are too much disposed to think it possible to evade +a law; to violate it, and escape punishment; but if a law is true, +punishment follows violation as implacably as the stars follow their +courses. And if society has failed to recognize the law that service, +and service only, should be able to command service in return, society +must suffer the penalty. We have only to look about us to see that +society is paying in full for its violations. + +"Yes, I have plans, and I think they would work, but the first thing is +the ideal--the new moral sense--that value must not be accepted without +giving equal value in return. Society, of course, will have to set up +the standards of value. That is a matter of detail--a matter for the +practical men who come in the wake of the idealist. But of this I am +certain--and I hark back to my old theme--that just as society has found +a means of preventing the man who is physically superior from taking +wealth without giving service in return, so must society find a means to +prevent men who are mentally superior from taking wealth without giving +service in return. The superior person, mark you, will still have an +advantage, in that his superiority will enable him to EARN more; we +shall merely stop him taking what he does not earn. That must come. I +think it will come soon. It is the next step in the social evolution of +the race." + +She had drunk in his argument as one who hangs on every word, and her +wrapt face turned toward his seemed to glow and thrill him in return +with a sense of their spiritual oneness. She did not need to tell him +that Transley never talked to her like this. Transley loved her, if he +loved her at all, for the glory she reflected upon him; he was proud of +her beauty, of her daring, of her physical charm and self-reliance. The +deeper side of her mental life was to Transley a field unexplored; a +field of the very existence of which he was probably unaware. Grant +looked into her eyes, now close and responsive, and found within their +depths something which sent him to his feet. + +"Zen!" he exclaimed. "The mystery of life is too much for me. Surely +there must be an answer somewhere! Surely the puzzle has a system to +it--a key which may some day be found! Or can it be just chaos--just +blind, driveling, senseless chaos? In our own lives, why should we be +stranded, helpless, wrecked, with the happiness which might have been +ours hung just beyond our reach? Is there no answer to this?" + +"I suppose we disobeyed the law, back in those old days. We heard it +clearly enough, and we disobeyed. I allowed myself to be guided by +motives which were not the highest; you seemed to lack the enterprise +which would have won you its own reward. And as you have said, those who +violate the law must suffer for it. I have suffered." + +She drew up her chin; he could see the firm muscles set beneath the +pink bloom of her flesh.... He had not thought of Zen suffering; all +his thought of her had been very grateful to his vanity, but he had not +thought of her suffering. He extended his hands and took hers within +them. + +"I have sometimes wondered," he said, "why there is no second chance; +why one cannot wipe the slate clear of everything that has been and +start anew. What a world this might be!" + +"Would it be any better? Or would we go on making our mistakes over +again? That seems to be the only way we learn." + +"But a second chance; the idea seems so fair, so plausible. Suppose you +are shooting on the ranges, for instance; you are allowed a shot or +two to find your nerve, to get your distance, to settle yourself to the +business in hand. But in this business of life you fire, and if some +distraction, some momentary influence or folly sends your aim wild, the +shot is gone and you are left with all the years that follow to think +about it. You can do nothing but think about it--the most profitless of +all occupations." + +"For you there is a second chance," she reminded him. "You must have +thought of that." + +"No--no second chance." + +She drew herself up slightly and away from him. "I have been very frank +with you, Dennison," she said. "Suppose you try being frank with me?" + +In her eyes was still the fire of Zen of the Y.D., a woman unconquered +and unconquerable. She gave the impression that she accepted the +buffetings of life, but no one forced them upon her. She had erred; she +would suffer. That was fair; she accepted that. But as Grant gazed +on her face, tilted still in some of its old-time recklessness and +defiance, he knew that the day would come when she would say that her +cup was full, and, throwing it to the winds, would start life over, if +there can be such a thing as starting life over. And something in her +manner told him that day was very, very near. + +"All right," he said, "I will be frank. Fate HAS brought within my orbit +a second chance, or what would have been a second chance had my heart +not been so full of you. She was a girl well worth thinking about. When +an employee introduces herself to you with a declaration of independence +you may know that you have met with someone out of the ordinary. I am +not speaking of these days of labor scarcity; it takes no great moral +quality to be independent when you have the whip-hand. But in the days +before the war, with two applicants for every position, a girl who +valued her freedom of spirit more than her job--more than even a very +good job--was a girl to think about." + +"And you thought about her?" + +"I did. I was sick of the cringing and fawning of which my wealth made +me the object; I loathed the deference paid me, because I knew it was +paid, not to me, but to my money--I was homesick to hear someone tell me +to go to hell. I wanted to brush up against that spirit which says it is +as good as anybody else--against the manliness which stands its ground +and hits back. I found that spirit in Phyllis Bruce." + +"Phyllis Bruce--rather a nice name. But are the men and women of the +East so--so servile as you suggest?" + +"No! That is where I was mistaken. Generations of environment had merely +trained them into docility of habit. Underneath they are red-blooded +through and through. The war showed us that. Zen--the proudest moment of +my life--except one--was when a kid in the office who couldn't come into +my room without trembling jumped up and said 'We WILL win!'--and called +me Grant! Think of that! Poor chap.... What was I saying? Oh, yes; +Phyllis. I grew to like her--very much--but I couldn't marry her. You +know why." + +Zen was looking into the fire with unseeing eyes. "I am not sure that +I know why," she said at length. "You couldn't marry me. It was your +second chance. You should have taken it." + +"Would that be playing the game fairly--with her?" + +She rested her fingers lightly on the back of his hand, extending them +gently down until they fell between his own. + +"Denny, you big, big boy!" she murmured. "Do you suppose every man +marries his first choice?" + +"It has always seemed to me that a second choice is a makeshift. It +doesn't seem quite square--" + +"No. I fancy some second choices are really first choices. Wisdom comes +with experience, you know." + +"Not always. At any rate I couldn't marry her while my heart was yours." + +"I suppose not," she answered, and again he noted a touch of weariness +in her voice. "I know something of what divided affection--if one can +even say it is divided--means. Denny, I will make a confession. I knew +you would come back; I always was sure you would come back. 'Then,' I +said to myself, 'I will see this man Grant as he is, and the reality +will clear my brain of all this idealism which I have woven about him.' +Perhaps you know what I mean. We sometimes meet people who impress us +greatly at the time, but a second meeting, perhaps years later, has a +very different effect. It sweeps all the idealism away, and we wonder +what it was that could have charmed us so. Well--I hoped--I really hoped +for some experience like that with you. If only I could meet you again +and find that, after all, you were just like other men; self-centred, +arrogant, kind, perhaps, but quite superior--if I could only find THAT +to be true then the mirage in which I have lived for all these years +would be swept away and my old philosophy that after all it doesn't +matter much whom one marries so long as he is respectable and gives her +a good living would be vindicated. And so I have encouraged you to come +here; I have been most unconventional, I know, but I was always that--I +have cultivated your acquaintance, and, Denny, I am SO disappointed!" + +"Disappointed? Then the mirage HAS cleared away?" + +"On the contrary, it grows more distorted every day. I see you towering +above all your fellow humans; reaching up into a heaven so far above +them that they don't even know of its existence. I see you as really The +Man-On-the-Hill, with a vision which lays all this selfish, commonplace +world at your feet. The idealism which I thought must fade away is +justified--heightened--by the reality." + +She had turned her face to him, and Grant, little as he understood the +ways of women, knew that she had made her great confession. For a moment +he held himself in check.... then from somewhere in his subconsciousness +came ringing the phrase, "Every man worth his salt.... takes what he +wants." That was Transley's morality; Transley, the Usurper, who had +bullied himself into possession of this heart which he had never won +and could never hold; Transley, the fool, frittering his days and +nights with money! He seized her in his arms, crushing down her weak +resistance; he drew her to him until, as in that day by a foothill river +somewhere in the sunny past, her lips met his and returned their caress. +He cared now for nothing--nothing in the whole world but this quivering +womanhood within his arms.... + +"You must go," she whispered at length. "It is late, and Frank's habits +are somewhat erratic." + +He held her at arm's length, his hands upon her shoulders. "Do you +suppose that fear--of anything--can make me surrender you now?" + +"Not fear, perhaps--I know it could not be fear--but good sense may do +it. It was not fear that made me send you home early from your previous +calls. It was discretion." + +"Oh!" he said, a new light dawning, and he marvelled again at her +consummate artistry. + +"But I must tell you," she resumed, "Frank leaves on a business trip +to-morrow night. He will be gone for some time, and I shall motor into +town to see him off. I am wondering about Wilson," she hurried on, as +though not daring to weigh her words; "Sarah will be away--I am letting +her have a little holiday--and I can't take Wilson into town with me +because it will be so late." Then, with a burst of confession she spoke +more deliberately. "That isn't exactly the reason, Dennison; Frank +doesn't know I have let Sarah go, and I--I can't explain." + +Her face shone pink and warm in the glow of the firelight, and as the +significance of her words sank in upon him Grant marvelled at that +wizardry of the gods which could bring such homage to the foot of man. +A tenderness such as he had never known suffused him; her very presence +was holy. + +"Bring the boy over and let him spend the night with me. We are great +chums and we shall get along splendidly." + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Grant spent his Sunday forenoon in an exhaustive house-cleaning +campaign. Bachelor life on the farm is not conducive to domestic +delicacy, and although Grant had never abandoned the fundamentals he had +allowed his interpretation of essential cleanliness to become somewhat +liberal. The result was that the day of rest usually confronted him +with a considerable array of unwashed pots and pans and other culinary +utensils. To-day, while the tawny autumn hills seemed to fairly heave +and sigh with contentment under a splendor of opalescent sunshine, he +scoured the contents of his kitchen until they shone; washed the floor; +shook the rugs from the living-room and swept the corners, even behind +the gramophone; cleared the ashes from the hearth and generally set his +house in order, for was not she to call upon him that evening on her +way to town, and was not little Wilson--he of the high adventures with +teddy-bear and knife and pig--to spend the night with him? + +When he was able to view his handiwork with a feeling that even feminine +eyes would find nothing to offend, Grant did an unwonted thing. He +unlocked the whim-room and opened the windows that the fresh air might +play through the silent chamber. To the west the mountains looked down +in sombre placidity as they had looked down every bright autumn morning +since the dawn of time, their shoulders bathed in purple mist and their +snow-crowned summits shining in the sun. For a long time Grant stood +drinking in the scene; the fertile valley lying with its square farms +like a checker-board of the gods, with its round little lakes beating +back the white sunshine like coins from the currency of the Creator; the +ruddy copper-colored patches of ripe wheat, and drowsy herds motionless +upon the receding hills; the blue-green ribbon of river with its yellow +fringes of cottonwood and bluffs of forbidding spruce, and behind and +over all the silent, majestic mountains. It was a sight to make the soul +of man rise up and say, "I know I stand on the heights of the Eternal!" +Then as his eyes followed the course of the river Grant picked out a +column of thin blue smoke, and knew that Zen was cooking her Sunday +dinner. + +The thought turned him to his dusting of the whim-room, and afterwards +to his own kitchen. When he had lunched and dressed he took a stroll +over the hills, thinking a great deal, but finding no answer. On his +return he descried the familiar figure of Linder in a semi-recumbent +position on the porch, and Linder's well-worn car in the yard. + +"How goes it, Linder?" he said, cheerily, as he came up. "Is the Big +Idea going to fructify?" + +"The Big Idea seems to be all right. You planned it well." + +"Thanks. But is it going to be self-supporting--I mean in the matter of +motive power. Would it run if you and I and Murdoch were wiped out?" + +"Everything must have a head." + +"Democracy must find its own head--must grow it out of the materials +supplied. If it doesn't do that it's a failure, and the Big Idea will +end in being the Big Fizzle. That's why I'm leaving it so severely +alone--I want to see which way it's headed." + +"I could suggest another reason," said Linder, pointedly. + +"Another reason for what?" + +"For your leaving it so severely alone." + +"What are you driving at?" demanded Grant, somewhat petulantly. "You are +in a taciturn mood to-day, Linder." + +"Perhaps I am, Grant, and if so it comes from wondering how a man with +as much brains as you have can be such a damned fool upon occasion." + +"Drop the riddles, Linder. Let me have it in the face." + +"It's just like this, Grant, old boy," said Linder, getting up and +putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "I feel that I still have an +interest in the chap who saved all of me except what this empty sleeve +stands for, and it's that interest which makes me speak about something +which you may say is none of my business. I was out here Monday night to +see you, and you were not at home. I came out again Wednesday, and you +were not at home. I came last night and you were not at home, and had +not come back at midnight. Your horses were in the barn; you were not +far away." + +"Why didn't you telephone me?" + +"If I hadn't cared more for you than I do for my job and the Big Idea +thrown in I could have settled it that way. But, Grant, I do." + +"I believe you. But why this sudden worry over me? I was merely spending +the evening at a neighbor's." + +"Yes--at Transley's. Transley was in town, and Mrs. Transley is--not +responsible--where you are concerned." + +"Linder!" + +"I saw it all that night at dinner there. Some things are plain to +everyone--except those most involved. Now it's not my job to say to you +what's right and wrong, but the way it looks to me is this: what's the +use of setting up a new code of morality about money which concerns, +after all, only some of us, if you're going to knock down those things +which concern all of us?" + +Grant regarded his foreman for some time without answering. "I +appreciate your frankness, Linder," he said at length. "Your friendship, +which I can never question, gives you that privilege. Man to man, I'm +going to be equally frank with you. To begin with, I suppose you will +admit that Y.D.'s daughter is a strong character, a woman quite capable +of directing her own affairs?" + +"The stronger the engine the bigger the smash if there's a wreck." + +"It's not a case of wrecking; it's a case of trying to save something +out of the wreck. Convention, Linder, is a torture-monger; it binds men +and women to the stake of propriety and bids them smile while it snuffs +out all the soul that's in them. We have pitted ourselves against +convention in economic affairs; shall we not--" + +"No! It was pure unselfishness which led you into the Big Idea. That +isn't what's leading you now." + +"Well, let me put it another way. Transley is a clever man of affairs. +He knows how to accomplish his ends. He applied the methods--somewhat +modified for the occasion--of a landshark in winning his wife. He makes +a great appearance of unselfishness, but in reality he is selfish to the +core. He lavishes money on her to satisfy his own vanity, but as for her +finer nature, the real Zen, her soul if you like--he doesn't even know +she has one. He obtained possession by false pretences. Which is the +more moral thing--to leave him in possession, or to throw him out? +Didn't you yourself hear him say that men who are worth their salt take +what they want?" + +"Since when did you let him set YOUR standards?" + +"That's hardly fair." + +"I think it is. I think, too, that you are arguing against your own +convictions. Well, I've had my say. I deliberately came out to-day +without Murdoch so that I might have it. You would be quite justified +in firing me for what I've done. But now I'm through, and no matter what +may happen, remember, Linder will never have suspected anything." + +"That's like you, old chap. We'll drop it at that, but I must explain +that Zen is going to town to-night to meet Transley, and is leaving the +boy with me. It is an event in my young life, and I have house-cleaned +for it appropriately. Come inside and admire my handiwork." + +Linder admired as he was directed, and then the two men fell into a +discussion of business matters. Eventually Grant cooked supper, and just +as they had finished Mrs. Transley drove up in her motor. + +"Here we are!" she cried, cheerily. "Glad to see you, Mr. Linder. Wilson +has his teddy-bear and his knife and his pyjamas, and is a little put +out, I think, that I wouldn't let him bring the pig." + +"I shall try and make up the deficiency," said Grant, smiling broadly, +as the boy climbed to his shoulder. "Won't you come in? Linder, among +his other accomplishments learned in France, is an excellent chaperon." + +"Thank you, no; I must get along. I shall call early in the morning, so +that you will not be delayed on Wilson's account." + +"No need of that; he can ride to the field with me on Prince. He is a +great help with the plowing." + +"I'm sure." She stepped up to Grant and drew the boy's face down to +hers. "Good-bye, dear; be a good boy," she whispered, and Wilson waved +kisses to her as the motor sped down the road. + +Linder took his departure soon after, and Grant was surprised to find +himself almost embarrassed in the presence of his little guest. +The embarrassment, however, was all on his side. Wilson was greatly +interested in the strange things in the house, and investigated them +with the romantic thoroughness of his years. Grant placed a collection +of war trophies that had no more fight in them at the child's disposal, +and he played about until it was time to go to bed. + +Where to start on the bedtime preparations was a puzzle, but Wilson +himself came to Grant's aid with explicit instructions about buttons and +pins. Grant fervently hoped the boy would be able to reverse the process +in the morning, otherwise-- + +Suddenly, with a little dexterous movement, the child divested himself +of all his clothing, and rushed into a far corner. + +"You have to catch me now," he shouted in high glee. "One, two--" + +Evidently it was a game, and Grant entered into the spirit of it, +finally running Wilson to earth on the farthest corner of the kitchen +table. To adjust the pyjamas was, as Grant confessed, a bigger job than +harnessing a four-horse team, but at length it was completed. + +"You must hear my prayer, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill," said the boy. "You +have to sit down in a chair." + +Grant sat down and with a strange mixture of emotions drew the little +chap between his knees as he listened to the long-forgotten prattle. +He felt his fingers running through Wilson's hair as other fingers, now +long, long turned to dust, had once run through his.... + +At the third line the boy stopped. "You have to tell me now," he +prompted. + +"But I can't, Willie; I have forgotten." + +"Huh, you don't know much," the child commented, and glibly quoted the +remaining lines. "And God bless Daddy and Mamma and teddy-bear and Uncle +Man-on-the-Hill and the pig. Amen," he concluded, accompanying the last +word with a jump which landed him fairly in Grant's lap. His little +arms went up about his friend's neck, and his little soft cheek rested +against a tanned and weather-beaten one. Slowly Grant's arms closed +about the warm, lithe body and pressed it to his in a new passion, +strange and holy. Then he led him to the whim-room, turned down the +white sheets in which no form had ever lain and placed the boy between +them, snuggled his teddy down by his side and set his knife properly +in view upon the dresser. And then he leaned down again and kissed the +little face, and whispered, "Good night, little boy; God keep you safe +to-night, and always." And suddenly Grant realized that he had been +praying.... + +He withdrew softly, and only partly closed the door; then he chose a +seat where he could see the little figure lying peacefully on the white +bed. The last shafts of the setting sun were falling in amber wedges +across the room. He picked up a book, thinking to read, but he could not +keep his attention on the page; he found his mind wandering back into +the long-forgotten chambers of its beginning, conjuring up from the +faint recollections of infancy visions of the mother he had hardly +known.... After a while he tip-toed to the whim-room door and found that +Wilson, with his arms firmly clasped about his teddy-bear, was deep in +the sleep of childhood. + +"The dear little chap," he murmured. "I must watch by him to-night. It +would be unspeakable if anything should happen him while he is under my +care." + +He felt a sense of warmth, almost a smothering sensation, and raised his +hand to his forehead. It came down covered with perspiration. + +"It's amazingly close," he said, and walked to one of the French windows +opening to the west. The sun had gone down, and a brooding darkness lay +over all the valley, but far up in the sky he could trace the outline of +a cloud. Above, the stars shone with an unwonted brightness, but below +all was a bank of blue-black darkness. The air was intensely still; in +the silence he could hear the wash of the river. Grant reflected that +never before had he heard the wash of the river at that distance. + +"Looks like a storm," he commented, casually, and suddenly felt +something tighten about his heart. The storms of the foothill country, +which occasionally sweep out of the mountains and down the valleys on +the shortest notice, had no terror for him; he had sat on horseback +under an oilskin slicker through the worst of them; but to-night! +Even as he watched, the distant glare of lightning threw the heaving +proportions of the thundercloud into sharp relief. + +He turned to his chair, but found himself pacing the living-room with +an altogether inexplicable nervousness. He had held the line many a bad +night at the Front while Death spat out of the darkness on every hand; +he had smoked in the faces of his men to cover his own fear and to shame +them out of theirs; he had run the whole gamut of the emotion of the +trenches, but tonight something more awesome than any engine of man was +gathering its forces in the deep valleys. He shook himself to throw off +the morbidness that was settling upon him; he laughed, and the echo came +back haunting from the silent corners of the house. Then he lit a lamp +and set it, burning low, in the whim-room, and noted that the boy slept +on, all unconcerned. + +"Damn Linder, anyway!" he exclaimed presently. "I believe he shook me +up more than I realized. He charged me with insincerity; me, who have +always made sincerity my special virtue.... Well, there may be something +in it." + +A faint, indistinct growling, as of the grinding of mighty rocks, came +down from the distances. + +"The storm will be nothing," he assured himself. "A gust of wind; a +spatter of rain; perhaps a dash of hail; then, of a sudden, a sky +so calm and peaceful one would wonder how it ever could have been +disturbed." Even as he spoke the house shivered in every timber as the +gale struck it and went whining by. + +He rushed to the whim-room, but found the boy still sleeping soundly. "I +must stay up," he reasoned with himself; "I must be on hand in case he +should be frightened." + +Suddenly it occurred to Grant that, quite apart from his love for +Wilson, if anything should happen the child in his house a very +difficult situation would be created. Transley would demand +explanations--explanations which would be hard to make. Why was Wilson +there at all? Why was he not at home with Sarah? Sarah away from home! +Why had Zen kept that a secret?... How long had this thing been going +on, anyway? Grant feared neither Transley nor any other man, and yet +there was something akin to fear in his heart as he thought of these +possibilities. He would be held accountable--doubly accountable--if +anything happened the child. Even though it were something quite beyond +his control; lightning, for example-- + +The gale subsided as quickly as it had come, and the sudden silence +which followed was even more awesome. It lasted only for a moment; a +flash of lightning lit up every corner of the house, bursting like white +fire from every wall and ceiling. Grant rushed to the whim-room and was +standing over the child when the crash of thunder came upon them. The +boy stirred gently, smiled, and settled back to his sleep. + +Grant drew the blinds in the whim-room, and went out to draw them in +the living-room, but the sight across the valley was of a majesty so +terrific that it held him fascinated. The play of the lightning was +incessant, and with every flash the little lakes shot back their white +reflection, and distant farm window-panes seemed heliographing to each +other through the night. As yet there was no rain, but a dense wall of +cloud pressed down from the west, and the farther hills were hidden even +in the brightest flashes. + +Turning from the windows, Grant left the blinds open. "Only cowardice +would close them," he muttered to himself, "and surely, in addition to +the other qualities Linder has attributed to me, I am not a coward. If +it were not for Willie I could stand and enjoy it." + +Presently rain began to fall; a few scattered drops at first, then +thicker, harder, until the roof and windows rattled and shook with +their force. The wind, which had gone down so suddenly, sprang up again, +buffeting the house as it rushed by with the storm. Grant stood in the +whim-room, in the dim light of the lamp turned low, and watched the +steady breathing of his little guest with as much anxiety as if some +dread disease threatened him. For the first time in his life there came +into Grant's consciousness some sense of the price which parents pay in +the rearing of little children. He thought of all the hours of sickness, +of all the childish hurts and dangers, and suddenly he found himself +thinking of his father with a tenderness which was strange and new to +him. Doubtless under even that stern veneer of business interest had +beat a heart which, many a time, had tightened in the grip of fear for +young Dennison. + +As the night wore on the storm, instead of spending itself quickly +as Grant had expected, continued unabated, but his nervous tension +gradually relaxed, and when at length Wilson was awakened by an +exceptionally loud clap of thunder he took the boy in his arms and +soothed his little fears as a mother might have done. They sat for +a long while in a big chair in the living-room, and exchanged such +confidences as a man may with a child of five. After the lad had dropped +back into sleep Grant still sat with him in his arms, thinking.... + +And what he thought was this: He was a long while framing the exact +thought; he tried to beat it back in a dozen ways, but it circled around +him, gradually closed in upon him and forced its acceptance. "Linder +called me a fool, and he was right. He might have called me a coward, +and again he would have been right. Linder was right." + +Some way it seemed easy to reach that conclusion while this little +sleeping form lay in his arms. Perhaps it had quickened into life that +ennobling spirit of parenthood which is all sacrifice and love and +self-renunciation. The ends which seemed so all-desirable a few hours +ago now seemed sordid and mean and unimportant. Reaching out for some +means of self-justification Grant turned to the Big Idea; that was his; +that was big and generous and noble. But after all, was it his? The idea +had come in upon him from some outside source--as perhaps all ideas +do; struck him like a bullet; swept him along. He was merely the agency +employed in putting it into effect. It had cost him nothing. He was +doing that for society. Now was the time to do something that would +cost; to lay his hand upon the prize and then relinquish it--for the +sake of Wilson Transley! + +"And by God I'll do it!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet. He carried +the child back to his bed, and then turned again to watch the storm +through the windows. It seemed to be subsiding; the lightning, although +still almost continuous, was not so near. The air was cooling off and +the rain was falling more steadily, without the gusts and splatters +which marked the storm in its early stages. And as he looked out over +the black valley, lighted again and again by the glare of heaven's +artillery, Grant became conscious of a deep, mysterious sense of peace. +It was as though his soul, like the elements about him, caught in a +paroxysm of elemental passion, had been swept clean and pure in the fire +of its own upheaval. + +"What little incidents turn our lives!" he thought. "That boy; in some +strange way he has been the means of bringing me to see things as they +are--which not even Linder could do. The mind has to be fertilized for +the thought, or it can't think it. He brought the necessary influence to +bear. It was like the night at Murdoch's house, the night when the Big +Idea was born. Surely I owe that to Murdoch, and his wife, and Phyllis +Bruce." + +The name of Phyllis Bruce came to him with almost a shock. He had been +so occupied with his farm and with Zen that he had thought but little of +her of late. As he turned the matter over in his mind now he felt that +he had used Phyllis rather shabbily. He recalled having told Murdoch to +send for her, but that was purely a business transaction. Yet he felt +that he had never entirely forgotten her, and he was surprised to find +how tenderly the memory of her welled up within him. Zen's vision had +been clearer than his; she had recognized in Phyllis Bruce a party to +his life's drama. "The second choice may be really the first," she had +said. + +Grant lit a cigar and sat down to smoke and think. The matter of Phyllis +needed prompt settlement. It afforded a means to burn his bridges +behind him, and Grant felt that it would be just as well to cut off all +possibility of retreat. Fortunately the situation was one that could be +explained--to Phyllis. He had come out West again to be sure of himself; +he was sure now; would she be his wife? He had never thought that line +out to a conclusion before, but now it proved a subject very delightful +to contemplate. + +He had told himself, back in those days in the East, that it would not +be fair to marry Phyllis Bruce while his heart was another's. He had +believed that then; now he knew the real reason was that he had allowed +himself to hope, against all reason, that Zen Transley might yet be his. +He had harbored an unworthy desire, and called it a virtue. Well--the +die was cast. He had definitely given Zen up. He would tell Phyllis +everything.... That is, everything she needed to know. + +It would be best to settle it at once--the sooner the better. He went +to his desk and took out a telegraph blank. He addressed it to Phyllis, +pondered a minute in a great hush in the storm, and wrote, + +"I am sure now. May I come? Dennison." + +This done he turned to the telephone, hurrying as one who fears for the +duration of his good resolutions. It was a chance if the line was not +out of business, but he lifted the receiver and listened to the thump of +his heart as he waited. + +Presently came a voice as calm and still as though it spoke from another +world, "Number?" + +He gave the number of Linder's rooms in town; it was likely Linder had +remained in town, but it was a question whether the telephone bell would +waken him. He had recollections of Linder as a sound sleeper. But even +as this possibility entered his mind he heard Linder's phlegmatic voice +in his ear. + +"Oh, Linder! I'm so glad I got you. Rush this message to Phyllis +Bruce.... Linder?... Linder!" + +There was no answer. Nothing but a hollow, empty sound on the wire, as +though it led merely into the universe in general. He tried to call the +operator, but without success. The wire was down. + +He turned from it with a sense of acute impatience. Was this an omen of +obstacles to bar him now from Phyllis Bruce? He had a wild thought of +saddling a horse and riding to town, but at that moment the storm came +down afresh. Besides, there was the boy. + +Suddenly came a quick knock at the door; the handle turned, and a +drenched, hatless figure, with disheveled, wet hair, and white, drawn +face burst in upon him. It was Zen Transley. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +"Zen!" + +"How is he--how is Wilson?" she demanded, breathlessly. + +"Sound as a bell," he answered, alarmed by her manner. The self-assured +Zen was far from self-assurance now. "Come, see, he is asleep." + +He led her into the whim-room and turned up the lamp. The lad was +sleeping soundly, his teddy-bear clasped in his arms, his little pink +and white face serene under the magic skies of slumberland. Grant +expected that Zen would throw herself upon the child in her agitation, +but she did not. She drew her fingers gently across his brow, then, +turning to Grant, + +"Rather an unceremonious way to break into your house," she said, with a +little laugh. "I hope you will pardon me.... I was uneasy about Wilson." + +"But tell me--how--where did you come from?" + +"From town. Let me stand in your kitchen, or somewhere." + +"You're wet through. I can't offer you much change." + +"Not as wet as when you first met me, Dennison," she said, with a smile. +"I have a good waterproof, but my hat blew off. It's somewhere on the +road. I couldn't see through the windshield, so I put my head out, and +away it went." + +"The hat?" + +Then both laughed, and an atmosphere that had been tense began to settle +back to normal. Grant led her out to the living-room, removed her coat, +and started a fire. + +"So you drove out over those roads?" he said, when the smoke began to +curl up around the logs. "You had your courage." + +"It wasn't courage, Dennison; it was terror. Fear sometimes makes one +wonderfully brave. After I saw Frank off I went to the hotel. I had a +room on the west side, and instead of going to bed I sat by the window +looking out at the storm and at the wet streets. I could see the +flashes of lightning striking down as though they were aimed at definite +objects, and I began to think of Wilson, and of you. You see, it was the +first night I had ever spent away from him, and I began to think.... + +"After a while I could bear it no longer, and I rushed down and out to +the garage. There was just one young man on night duty, and I'm sure +he thought me crazy. When he couldn't dissuade me he wanted to send a +driver with me. You know I couldn't have that." + +She was looking squarely at him, her face strangely calm and +emotionless. Grant nodded that he followed her reasoning. + +"So here I am," she continued. "No doubt you think me silly, too. You +are not a mother." + +"I think I understand," he answered, tenderly. "I think I do." + +They sat in silence for some time, and presently they became aware of +a grey light displacing the yellow glow from the lamp and the ruddy +reflections of the fire. "It is morning," said Grant. "I believe the +storm has cleared." + +He stood beside her chair and took her hand in his. "Let us watch the +dawn break on the mountains," he said, and together they moved to the +windows that overlooked the valley and the grim ranges beyond. Already +shafts of crimson light were firing the scattered drift of clouds far +overhead.... + +"Dennison," she said at length, turning her face to his, "I hope you +will understand, but--I have thought it all over. I have not hidden my +heart from you. For the boy's sake, and for your sake, and for the sake +of 'a scrap of paper'--that was what the war was over, wasn't it?--" + +"I know," he whispered. "I know." + +"Then you have been thinking, too?... I am so glad!" In the growing +light he could see the moisture in her bright eyes glisten, and it +seemed to him this wild, daring daughter of the hills had never been +lovelier than in this moment of confession and of high resolve. + +"I am so glad," she repeated, "for your sake--and for my own. Now, +again, you are really the Man-on-the-Hill. We have been in the valley of +late. You can go ahead now with your high plans, with your Big Idea. You +will marry Miss Bruce, and forget." + +"I shall remember with chastened memory, but I shall never forget," he +said at length. "I shall never forget Zen of the Y.D. And you--what will +you do?" + +"I have the boy. I did not realize how much I had until to-night. +Suddenly it came upon me that he was everything. You won't understand, +Dennison, but as we grow older our hearts wrap up around our children +with a love quite different from that which expresses itself in +marriage. This love gives--gives--gives, lavishly, unselfishly, asking +nothing in return." + +"I think I understand," he said again. "I think I do." + +They turned their eyes to the mountains, and as they looked the first +shafts of sunlight fell on the white peaks and set them dazzling like +mighty diamond-points against the blue bosom of the West. Slowly the +flood of light poured down their mighty sides and melted the mauve +shadows of the valley. Suddenly a ray of the morning splendor shot +through the little window in the eastern wall of the living-room and +fell fairly upon the woman's head, crowning her like a halo of the +Madonna. + +"It is morning on the mountains--and on you!" Grant exclaimed. "Zen, you +are very, very beautiful." He raised her hand and pressed her fingers to +his lips. + +As they stood watching the sunlight pour into the valley a sharp knock +sounded on the door. "Come," said Dennison, and the next moment it +swung open and Phyllis Bruce entered, followed immediately by Linder. A +question leapt into her eyes at the remarkable situation which greeted +them, and she paused in embarrassment. + +"Phyllis!" Grant exclaimed. "You here!" + +"It would seem that I was not expected." + +"It is all very simple," Grant explained, with a laugh. "Little Willie +Transley was my guest overnight. On account of the storm his mother +became alarmed, and drove out from the city early this morning for him. +Mrs. Transley, let me introduce Miss Bruce--Phyllis Bruce, of whom I +have told you." + +Zen's cordial handshake did more to reassure Phyllis than any amount of +explanations, and Linder's timely observation that he knew Wilson was +there and was wondering about him himself had valuable corroborative +effect. + +"But now--YOUR explanations?" said Grant. "How comes it, Linder?" + +"Simple enough, from our side. When I got back to town last night I +found Murdoch highly excited over a telegram from Miss Bruce that she +would arrive on the 3 a.m. train. He was determined to wait up, but +when the storm came on I persuaded him to go home, as I was sure I could +identify her. So I was lounging in my room waiting for three o'clock +when I got your telephone call. All I could catch was the fact that you +were mighty glad to get me, and had some urgent message for Miss Bruce. +Then the connection broke." + +"I see. And you, of course, assured Miss Bruce that I was being +murdered, or meeting some such happy and effective ending, out here in +the wilderness." + +"Not exactly that, but I reported what I could, and Miss Bruce insisted +upon coming out at once. The roads were dreadful, but we had daylight. +Also, we have a trophy." + +Linder went out and returned in a moment with a sadly bedraggled hat. + +"My poor hat!" Zen exclaimed. "I lost it on the way." + +"It is the best kind of evidence that you had but recently come over the +road," said Linder, significantly. + +"I think no more evidence need be called," said Phyllis. "May I lay off +my things?" + +"Certainly--certainly," Grant apologized. "But I must introduce one more +exhibit." He handed her the telegram he had written during the night. +"That is the message I wanted Linder to rush to you," he said, and as +she read it he saw the color deepen in her cheeks. + +"I'm going to get breakfast, Mr. Grant," Zen announced with a sudden +burst of energy. "Everybody keep out of the kitchen." + +"Guess I'll feed up for you, this morning, old chap," said Linder, +beating a retreat to the stables. + +And when Phyllis had laid aside her coat and hat and had straightened +her hair a little in the glass above the mantelpiece she walked straight +to Grant and put both her hands in his. "Let me see this boy, Willie +Transley," she said. + +Grant led her into the whim-room, where the boy still slept soundly, +and drew aside the blinds that the morning light might fall about him. +Phyllis bent over the child. "Isn't he dear?" she said, and stooped and +kissed his lips. + +Then she stood up and looked for what seemed to Grant a very long time +at the panorama of grandeur that stretched away to the westward. + +"When may I expect an answer, Phyllis?" he said at length. "You know +why my question has been so long delayed. I shall not attempt to excuse +myself. I have been very, very foolish. But to-day I am very, very wise. +May I also be very, very happy?" + +He had taken her hands in his, and as she did not resist he drew her +gently to him. + +"Little Willie christened me The Man-on-the-Hill," he whispered. "I have +tried to live on the hill, but I need you to keep me from falling off." + +"What about your settlement plan? I thought you wanted me for that." + +"We will give our lives to that, together, Phyllis, to that, and to +making this house a home. If God should give us--" + +He did not finish the thought, for the form of Phyllis Bruce trembled +against his, and her lips had murmured "Yes."... + +"Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant! The telephone is ringing," called the clear voice +of Zen Transley. "Shall I take the message?" + +"Please do," said Dennison, inwardly abjuring the efficiency of the +lineman who had already made repairs. + +"It's Mr. Murdoch, and he's highly excited, and he says have you Phyllis +Bruce here." + +"Tell him I have, and I'm going to keep her." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dennison Grant, by Robert Stead + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DENNISON GRANT *** + +***** This file should be named 3264.txt or 3264.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/3264/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com. + + + + + +DENNISON GRANT + +A Novel of To-day + + +by ROBERT STEAD + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Chuck at the Y.D. to-night, and a bed under the shingles," shouted +Transley, waving to the procession to be off. + +Linder, foreman and head teamster, straightened up from the half +load of new hay in which he had been awaiting the final word, +tightened the lines, made an unique sound in his throat, and the +horses pressed their shoulders into the collars. Linder glanced +back to see each wagon or implement take up the slack with a jerk +like the cars of a freight train; the cushioned rumble of wagon +wheels on the soft earth, and the noisy chatter of the steel teeth +of the hay-rakes came up from the rear. Transley's "outfit" was +under way. + +Transley was a contractor; a master of men and of circumstances. +Six weeks before, the suspension of a grading order had left him +high and dry, with a dozen men and as many teams on his hands and +hired for the season. Transley galloped all that night into the +foothills; when he returned next evening he had a contract with the +Y.D. to cut all the hay from the ranch buildings to The Forks. By +some deft touch of those financial strings on which he was one day +to become so skilled a player Transley converted his dump scrapers +into mowing machines, and three days later his outfit was at work +in the upper reaches of the Y.D. + +The contract had been decidedly profitable. Not an hour of broken +weather had interrupted the operations, and to-day, with two +thousand tons of hay in stack, Transley was moving down to the +headquarters of the Y.D. The trail lay along a broad valley, +warded on either side by ranges of foothills; hills which in any +other country would have been dignified by the name of mountains. +From their summits the grey-green up-tilted limestone protruded, +whipped clean of soil by the chinooks of centuries. Here and there +on their northern slopes hung a beard of scrub timber; sharp +gulleys cut into their fastnesses to bring down the turbulent +waters of their snows. + +Some miles to the left of the trail lay the bed of the Y.D., +fringed with poplar and cottonwood and occasional dark green +splashes of spruce. Beyond the bed of the Y.D., beyond the +foothills that looked down upon it, hung the mountains themselves, +their giant crests pitched like mighty tents drowsing placidly +between earth and heaven. Now their four o'clock veil of blue- +purple mist lay filmed about their shoulders, but later they would +stand out in bold silhouette cutting into the twilight sky. +Everywhere was the soft smell of new-mown hay; everywhere the +silences of the eternal, broken only by the muffled noises of +Transley's outfit trailing down to the Y.D. + +Linder, foreman and head teamster, cushioned his shoulders against +his half load of hay and contemplated the scene with amiable +satisfaction. The hay fields of the foothills had been a pleasant +change from the railway grades of the plains below. Men and horses +had fattened and grown content, and the foreman had reason to know +that Transley's bank account had profited by the sudden shift in +his operations. Linder felt in his pocket for pipe and matches; +then, with a frown, withdrew his fingers. He himself had laid down +the law that there must be no smoking in the hay fields. A +carelessly dropped match might in an hour nullify all their labor. + +Linder's frown had scarce vanished when hoof-beats pounded by the +side of his wagon, and a rider, throwing himself lightly from his +horse, dropped beside him in the hay. + +"Thought I'd ride with you a spell, Lin. That Pete-horse acts like +he was goin' sore on the off front foot. Chuck at the Y.D. to-night?" + +"That's what Transley says, George, and he knows." + +"Ever et at the Y.D?" + +"Nope." + +"Know old Y.D?" + +"Only to know his name is good on a cheque, and they say he still +throws a good rope." + +George wriggled to a more comfortable position in the hay. He had +a feeling that he was approaching a delicate subject with +consummate skill. After a considerable silence he continued-- + +"They say that's quite a girl old Y.D.'s got." + +"Oh," said Linder, slowly. The occasion of the soreness in that +Pete-horse's off front foot was becoming apparent. + +"You better stick to Pete," Linder continued. "Women is most +uncertain critters." + +"Don't I know it?" chuckled George, poking the foreman's ribs +companionably with his elbow. "Don't I know it?" he repeated, as +his mind apparently ran back over some reminiscence that verified +Linder's remark. It was evident from the pleasant grimaces of +George's face that whatever he had suffered from the uncertain sex +was forgiven. + +"Say, Lin," he resumed after another pause, and this time in a more +confidential tone, "do you s'pose Transley's got a notion that +way?" + +"Shouldn't wonder. Transley always knows what he's doing, and why. +Y.D. must be worth a million or so, and the girl is all he's got to +leave it to. Besides all that, no doubt she's well worth having on +her own account." + +"Well, I'm sorry for the boss," George replied, with great +soberness. "I alus hate to disappoint the boss." + +"Huh!" said Linder. He knew George Drazk too well for further +comment. After his unlimited pride in and devotion to his horse, +George gave his heart unreservedly to womankind. He suffered from +no cramping niceness in his devotions; that would have limited the +play of his passion; to him all women were alike--or nearly so. +And no number of rebuffs could convince George that he was +unpopular with the objects of his democratic affections. Such a +conclusion was, to him, too absurd to be entertained, no matter how +many experiences might support it. If opportunity offered he +doubtless would propose to Y.D.'s daughter that very night--and get +a boxed ear for his pains. + +The Y.D. creek had crossed its valley, shouldering close against +the base of the foothills to the right. Here the current had +created a precipitous cutbank, and to avoid it and the stream the +trail wound over the side of the hill. As they crested a corner +the silver ribbon of the Y.D. was unravelled before them, and half +a dozen miles down its course the ranch buildings lay clustered in +a grove of cottonwoods and evergreens. All the great valley lay +warm and pulsating in a flood of yellow sunshine; the very earth +seemed amorous and content in the embrace of sun and sky. The +majesty of the view seized even the unpoetic souls of Linder and +Drazk, and because they had no other means of expression they swore +vaguely and relapsed into silence. + +Hoof-beats again sounded by the wagon side. It was Transley. + +"Oh, here you are, Drazk. How long do you reckon it would take you +to ride down to the Y.D. on that Pete-horse?" Transley was a +leader of men. + +Drazk's eyes sparkled at the subtle compliment to his horse. + +"I tell you, Boss," he said, "if there's any jackrabbits in the +road they'll get tramped on." + +"I bet they will," said Transley, genially. "Well, you just slide +down and tell Y.D. we're coming in. She's going to be later than I +figured, but I can't hurry the work horses. You know that, Drazk." + +"Sure I do, Boss," said Drazk, springing into his saddle. "Just +watch me lose myself in the dust." Then, to himself, "Here's where +I beat the boss to it." + +The sun had fallen behind the mountains, the valley was filled with +shadow, the afterglow, mauve and purple and copper, was playing far +up the sky when Transley's outfit reached the Y.D. corrals. George +Drazk had opened the gate and waited beside it. + +"Y.D. wants you an' Linder to eat with him at the house," he said +as Transley halted beside him. "The rest of us eat in the bunk- +house." There was something strangely modest in Drazk's manner. + +"Had yours handed to you already?" Linder managed to banter in a +low voice as they swung through the gate. + +"Hell!" protested Mr. Drazk. "A fellow that ain't a boss or a +foreman don't get a look-in. Never even seen her. . . . Come, you +Pete-horse!" It was evident George had gone back to his first +love. + +The wagons drew up in the yard, and there was a fine jingle of +harness as the teamsters quickly unhitched. Y.D. himself +approached through the dusk; his large frame and confident bearing +were unmistakable even in that group of confident, vigorous men. + +"Glad to see you, Transley," he said cordially. "You done well out +there. 'So, Linder! You made a good job of it. Come up to the +house--I reckon the Missus has supper waitin'. We'll find a room +for you up there, too; it's different from bein' under canvas." + +So saying, and turning the welfare of the men and the horses over +to his foreman, the rancher led Transley and Linder along a path +through a grove of cottonwoods, across a footbridge where from +underneath came the babble of water, to "the house," marked by a +yellow light which poured through the windows and lost itself in +the shadow of the trees. + +The nucleus of the house was the log cabin where Y.D. and his wife +had lived in their first married years. With the passage of time +additions had been built to every side which offered a point of +contact, but the log cabin still remained the family centre, and +into it Transley and Linder were immediately admitted. The poplar +floor had long since worn thin, save at the knots, and had been +covered with edge-grained fir, but otherwise the cabin stood as it +had for twenty years, the white-washed logs glowing in the light of +two bracket lamps and the reflections from a wood fire which burned +merrily in the stove. The skins of a grizzly bear and a timber +wolf lay on the floor, and two moose heads looked down from +opposite ends of the room. On the walls hung other trophies won by +Y.D.'s rifle, along with hand-made bits of harness, lariats, and +other insignia of the ranchman's trade. + +The rancher took his guests' hats, and motioned each to a seat. +"Mother," he said, directing his voice into an adjoining room, +"here's the boys." + +In a moment "Mother" appeared drying her hands. In her appearance +were courage, resourcefulness, energy,--fit mate for the man who +had made the Y.D. known in every big cattle market of the country. +As Linder's eye caught her and her husband in the same glance his +mind involuntarily leapt to the suggestion of what the offspring of +such a pair must be. The men of the cattle country have a proper +appreciation of heredity. . . . + +"My wife--Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder," said the rancher, with a +courtliness which sat strangely on his otherwise rough-and-ready +speech. "I been tellin' her the fine job you boys has made in the +hay fields, an' I reckon she's got a bite of supper waitin' you." + +"Y.D. has been full of your praises," said the woman. There was a +touch of culture in her manner as she received them, which Y.D.'s +hospitality did not disclose. + +She led them into another room, where a table was set for five. +Linder experienced a tang of happy excitement as he noted the +number. Linder allowed himself no foolishness about women, but, as +he sometimes sagely remarked to George Drazk, you never can tell +what might happen. He shot a quick glance at Transley, but the +contractor's face gave no sign. Even as he looked Linder thought +what an able face it was. Transley was not more than twenty-six, +but forcefulness, assertion, ability, stood in every line of his +clean-cut features. He was such a man as to capture at a blow the +heart of old Y.D., perhaps of Y.D.'s daughter. + +"Where's Zen?" demanded the rancher. + +"She'll be here presently," his wife replied. "We don't have Mr. +Transley and Mr. Linder every night, you know," she added, with a +smile. + +"Dolling up," thought Linder. "Trust a woman never to miss a bet." + +But at that moment a door opened, and the girl appeared. She did +not burst upon them, as Linder had half expected; she slipped +quietly and gracefully into their presence. She was dressed in +black, in a costume which did not too much conceal the charm of her +figure, and the nut-brown lustre of her face and hair played +against the sober background of her dress with an effect that was +almost dazzling. + +"My daughter, Zen," said Y.D. "Mr. Transley, Mr. Linder." + +She shook hands frankly, first with Transley, then with Linder, as +had been the order of the introduction. In her manner was neither +the shyness which sometimes marks the women of remote settlements, +nor the boldness so readily bred of outdoor life. She gave the +impression of one who has herself, and the situation, in hand. + +"We're always glad to have guests at the Y.D." she was saying. "We +live so far from everywhere." + +Linder thought that a strange peg on which to hang their welcome. +But she was continuing-- + +"And you have been so successful, haven't you? You have made quite +a hit with Dad." + +"How about Dad's daughter?" asked Transley. Transley had a manner +of direct and forceful action. These were his first words to her. +Linder would not have dared be so precipitate. + +"Perhaps," thought Linder to himself, as he turned the incident +over in his mind, "perhaps that is why Transley is boss, and I'm +just foreman." The young woman's behavior seemed to support that +conclusion. She did not answer Transley's question, but she gave +no evidence of displeasure. + +"You boys must be hungry," Y.D. was saying. "Pile in." + +The rancher and his wife sat at the ends of the table; Transley on +the side at Y.D.'s right; Linder at Transley's right. In the +better light Linder noted Y.D.'s face. It was the face of a man of +fifty, possibly sixty. Life in the open plays strange tricks with +the appearance. Some men it ages before their time; others seem to +tap a spring of perpetual youth. Save for the grey moustache and +the puckerings about the eyes Y.D.'s was still a young man's face. +Then, as the rancher turned his head, Linder noted a long scar, as +of a burn, almost grown over in the right cheek. . . . Across the +table from them sat the girl, impartially dividing her position +between the two. + +A Chinese boy served soup, and the rancher set the example by +"piling in" without formality. Eight hours in the open air between +meals is a powerful deterrent of table small-talk. Then followed a +huge joint of beef, from which Y.D. cut generous slices with swift +and dexterous strokes of a great knife, and the Chinese boy added +the vegetables from a side table. As the meat disappeared the call +of appetite became less insistent. + +"She's been a great summer, ain't she?" said the rancher, laying +down his knife and fork and lifting the carver. "Transley, some +more meat? Pshaw, you ain't et enough for a chicken. Linder? +That's right, pass up your plate. Powerful dry, though. That's +only a small bit; here's a better slice here. Dry summers +gen'rally mean open winters, but you can't never tell. Zen, how +'bout you? Old Y.D.'s been too long on the job to take chances. +Mother? How much did you say, Transley? About two thousand tons? +Not enough. Don't care if I do,"--helping himself to another piece +of beef. + +"I think you'll find two thousand tons, good hay and good +measurement," said Transley. + +"I'm sure of it," rejoined his host, generously. "I'm carryin' +more steers than usual, and'll maybe run in a bunch of doggies from +Manitoba to boot. I got to have more hay." + +So the meal progressed, the rancher furnishing both the hospitality +and the conversation. Transley occasionally broke in to give +assent to some remark, but his interruption was quite unnecessary. +It was Y.D.'s practice to take assent for granted. Once or twice +the women interjected a lead to a different subject of conversation +in which their words would have carried greater authority, but Y.D. +instantly swung it back to the all-absorbing topic of hay. + +The Chinese boy served a pudding of some sort, and presently the +meal was ended. + +"She's been a dry summer--powerful dry," said the rancher, with a +wink at his guests. "Zen, I think there's a bit of gopher poison +in there yet, ain't there?" + +The girl left the room without remark, returning shortly with a jug +and glasses, which she placed before her father. + +"I suppose you wear a man's size, Transley," he said, pouring out a +big drink of brown liquor, despite Transley's deprecating hand. +"Linder, how many fingers? Two? Well, we'll throw in the thumb. +Y.D? If you please, just a little snifter. All set?" + +The rancher rose to his feet, and the company followed his example. + +"Here's ho!--and more hay," he said, genially. + +"Ho!" said Linder. + +"The daughter of the Y.D!" said Transley, looking across the table +at the girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white +teeth, she raised an empty glass and clinked it against his. + +The men drained their glasses and re-seated themselves, but the +women remained standing. + +"Perhaps you will excuse us now," said the rancher's wife. "You +will wish to talk over business. Y.D. will show you upstairs, and +we will expect you to be with us for breakfast." + +With a bow she left the room, followed by her daughter. Linder had +a sense of being unsatisfied; it was as though a ravishing meal has +been placed before a hungry man, and only its aroma had reached his +senses when it had been taken away. Well, it provoked the appetite-- + +The rancher re-filled the glasses, but Transley left his untouched, +and Linder did the same. There were business matters to discuss, +and it was no fair contest to discuss business in the course of a +drinking bout with an old stager like Y.D. + +"I got to have another thousand tons," the rancher was saying. +"Can't take chances on any less, and I want you boys to put it up +for me." + +"Suits me," said Transley, "if you'll show me where to get the +hay." + +"You know the South Y.D?" + +"Never been on it." + +"Well, it's a branch of the Y.D. which runs south-east from The +Forks. Guess it got its name from me, because I built my first +cabin at The Forks. That was about the time you was on a milk +diet, Transley, and us old-timers had all outdoors to play with. +You see, the Y.D. is a cantank'rous stream, like its godfather. At +The Forks you'd nat'rally suppose is where two branches joined, an' +jogged on henceforth in double harness. Well, that ain't it at +all. This crick has modern ideas, an' at The Forks it divides +itself into two, an' she hikes for the Gulf o' Mexico an' him for +Hudson's Bay. As I was sayin', I built my first cabin at The +Forks--a sort o' peek-a-boo cabin it was, where the wolves usta +come an' look in at nights. Well, I usta look out through the same +holes. I had the advantage o' usin' language, an' I reckon we was +about equal scared. There was no wife or kid in those days." + +The rancher paused, took a long draw on his pipe, and his eyes +glowed with the light of old recollections. + +"Well, as I was sayin'," he continued presently, "folks got to +callin' the stream the Y.D., after me. That's what you get for +bein' first on the ground--a monument for ever an ever. This bein' +the main stream got the name proper, an' the other branch bein' +smallest an' running kind o' south nat'rally got called the South +Y.D. I run stock in both valleys when I was at The Forks, but not +much since I came down here. Well, there's maybe a thousand tons +o' hay over in the South Y.D., an' you boys better trail over there +to-morrow an' pitch into it--that is, if you're satisfied with the +price I'm payin' you." + +"The price is all right," said Transley, "and we'll hit the trail +at sun-up. There'll be no trouble--no confliction of interests, I +mean?" + +"Whose interests?" demanded the rancher, beligerently. "Ain't I +the father of the Y.D? Ain't the whole valley named for me? When +it comes to interests--" + +"Of course," Transley agreed, "but I just wanted to know how things +stood in case we ran up against something. It's not like the old +days, when a rancher would rather lose twenty-five per cent. of his +stock over winter than bother putting up hay. Hay land is getting +to be worth money, and I just want to know where we stand." + +"Quite proper," said Y.D., "quite proper. An' now the matter's +under discussion, I'll jus' show you my hand. There's a fellow +named Landson down the valley of the South Y.D. that's been +flirtin' with that hay meadow for years, but he ain't got no claim +to it. I was first on the ground an' I cut it whenever I feel like +it an' I'm goin' to go on cuttin' it. If anybody comes out raisin' +trouble, you just shoo 'em off, an' go on cuttin' that hay, spite +o' hell an' high water. Y.D.'ll stand behind you." + +"Thanks," said Transley. "That's what I wanted to know." + + + +CHAPTER II + + +The rancher had ridden into the Canadian plains country from below +"the line" long before barbed wire had become a menace in cattle- +land. From Pincher Creek to Maple Creek, and far beyond, the +plains lay unbroken save by the deep canyons where, through the +process of ages, mountain streams had worn their beds down to +gravel bottoms, and by the occasional trail which wandered through +the wilderness like some thousand-mile lariat carelessly dropped +from the hand of the Master Plainsman. Here and there, where the +cutbanks of the river Canyons widened out into sloping valleys, +affording possible access to the deep-lying streams, some ranchman +had established his headquarters, and his red-roofed, whitewashed +buildings flashed back the hot rays which fell from an opalescent +heaven. At some of the more important fords trading posts had come +into being, whither the ranchmen journeyed twice a year for +groceries, clothing, kerosene, and other liquids handled as +surreptitiously as the vigilance of the Mounted Police might +suggest. The virgin prairie, with her strange, subtle facility for +entangling the hearts of men, lay undefiled by the mercenary +plowshare; unprostituted by the commercialism of the days that were +to be. + +Into such a country Y.D. had ridden from the South, trailing his +little bunch of scrub heifers, in search of grass and water and, it +may be, of a new environment. Up through the Milk River country; +across the Belly and the Old Man; up and down the valley of the +Little Bow, and across the plains as far as the Big Bow he rode in +search of the essentials of a ranch headquarters. The first of +these is water, the second grass, the third fuel, the fourth +shelter. Grass there was everywhere; a fine, short, hairy crop +which has the peculiar quality of self-curing in the autumn +sunshine and so furnishing a natural, uncut hay for the herds in +the winter months. Water there was only where the mountain streams +plowed their canyons through the deep subsoil, or at little lakes +of surface drainage, or, at rare intervals, at points where pure +springs broke forth from the hillsides. Along the river banks +dark, crumbling seams exposed coal resources which solved all +questions of fuel, and fringes of cottonwood and poplar afforded +rough but satisfactory building material. As the rancher sat on +his horse on a little knoll which overlooked a landscape leading +down on one side to a sheltering bluff by the river, and on the +other losing itself on the rim of the heavens, no fairer prospect +surely could have met his eye. + +And yet he was not entirely satisfied. He was looking for no +temporary location, but for a spot where he might drive his claim- +stakes deep. That prairie, which stretched under the hot sunshine +unbroken to the rim of heaven; that brown grass glowing with an +almost phosphorescent light as it curled close to the mother sod;-- +a careless match, a cigar stub, a bit of gun-wadding, and in an +afternoon a million acres of pasture land would carry not enough +foliage to feed a gopher. + +Y.D. turned in his saddle. Along the far western sky hung the +purple draperies of the Rockies. For fifty miles eastward from the +mighty range lay the country of the foothills, its great valleys +lost to the vision which leapt only from summit to summit. In the +clear air the peaks themselves seemed not a dozen miles away, but +Y.D. had not ridden cactus, sagebrush and prairie from the Rio +Grande to the St. Mary's for twenty years to be deceived by a so +transparent illusion. Far over the plains his eye could trace the +dark outline of a trail leading mountainward. + +The heifers drowsed lazily in the brown grass. Y.D., shading his +eyes the better with his hand, gazed long and thoughtfully at the +purple range. Then he spat decisively over his horse's shoulder +and made a strange "cluck" in his throat. The knowing animal at +once set out on a trot to stir the lazy heifers into movement, and +presently they were trailing slowly up into the foothill country. + +Far up, where the trail ahead apparently dropped over the end of +the world, a horse and rider hove in view. They came on leisurely, +and half an hour elapsed before they met the rancher trailing west. + +The stranger was a rancher of fifty, wind-whipped and weather- +beaten of countenance. The iron grey of his hair and moustache +suggested the iron of the man himself; iron of figure, of muscle, +of will. + +"'Day," he said, affably, coming to a halt a few feet from Y.D. +"Trailing into the foothills?" + +Y.D. lolled in his saddle. His attitude did not invite conversation, +and, on the other hand, intimated no desire to avoid it. + +"Maybe," he said, noncommittally. Then, relaxing somewhat,--"Any +water farther up?" + +"About eight miles. Sundown should see you there, and there's a +decent spot to camp. You're a stranger here?" The older man was +evidently puzzling over the big "Y.D." branded on the ribs of the +little herd. + +"It's a big country," Y.D. answered. "It's a plumb big country, +for sure, an' I guess a man can be a stranger in some corners of +it, can't he?" + +Y.D. began to resent the other man's close scrutiny of his brand. + +"Well, what's wrong with it?" he demanded. + +"Oh, nothing. No offense. I just wondered what 'Y.D.' might stand +for." + +"Might stand for Yankee devil," said Y.D., with a none-of-your- +business curl of his lip. But he had carried his curtness too far, +and was not prepared for the quick retort. + +"Might also stand for yellow dog, and be damned to you!" The +stranger's strong figure sat up stern and knit in his saddle. + +Y.D.'s hand went to his hip, but the other man was unarmed. You +can't draw on a man who isn't armed. + +"Listen!" the older man continued, in sharp, clear-cut notes. "You +are a stranger not only to our trails, but our customs. You are a +young man. Let me give you some advice. First--get rid of that +artillery. It will do you more harm than good. And second, when a +stranger speaks to you civilly, answer him the same. My name is +Wilson--Frank Wilson, and if you settle in the foothills you'll +find me a decent neighbor, as soon as you are able to appreciate +decency." + +To his own great surprise, Y.D. took his dressing down in silence. +There was a poise in Wilson's manner that enforced respect. He +recognized in him the English rancher of good family; usually a man +of fine courtesy within reasonable bounds; always a hard hitter +when those bounds are exceeded. Y.D. knew that he had made at +least a tactical blunder; his sensitiveness about his brand would +arouse, rather than allay, suspicion. His cheeks burned with a +heat not of the afternoon sun as he submitted to this unaccustomed +discipline, but he could not bring himself to express regret for +his rudeness. + +"Well, now that the shower is over, we'll move on," he said, +turning his back on Wilson and "clucking" to his horse. + +Y.D. followed the stream which afterwards bore his name as far as +the Upper Forks. As he entered the foothills he found all the +advantages of the plains below, with others peculiar to the +foothill country. The richer herbage, induced by a heavier +precipitation; the occasional belts of woodland; the rugged ravines +and limestone ridges affording good natural protection against +fire; abundant fuel and water everywhere--these seemed to +constitute the ideal ranch conditions. At the Upper Forks, through +some freak of formation, the stream divided into two. From this +point was easy access into the valleys of the Y.D. and the South +Y.D., as they were subsequently called. The stream rippled over +beds of grey gravel, and mountain trout darted from the rancher's +shadow as it fell across the water. Up the valley, now ruddy gold +with the changing colors of autumn, white-capped mountains looked +down from amid the infinite silences; and below, broad vistas of +brown prairie and silver ribbons of running water. Y.D. turned his +swarthy face to the sunlight and took in the scene slowly, +deliberately, but with a commercialized eye; blue and white and +ruddy gold were nothing to him; his heart was set on grass and +water and shelter. He had roved enough, and he had a reason for +seeking some secluded spot like this, where he could settle down +while his herds grew up, and, perhaps, forget some things that were +better forgotten. + +With sudden decision the cattle man threw himself from his horse, +unstrapped the little kit of supplies which he carried by the +saddle; drew off saddle and bridle and turned the animal free. The +die was cast; this was the spot. Within ten minutes his ax was +ringing in the grove of spruce trees close by, and the following +night he fried mountain trout under the shelter of his own +temporary roof. + +It was the next summer when Y.D. had another encounter with Wilson. +The Upper Forks turned out to be less secluded than he had +supposed; it was on the trail of trappers and prospectors working +into the mountains. Traders, too, in mysterious commodities, moved +mysteriously back and forth, and the log cabin at The Forks became +something of a centre of interest. Strange companies forgathered +within its rude walls. + +It was at such a gathering, in which Y.D. and three companions sat +about the little square table, that one of the visitors facetiously +inquired of the rancher how his herd was progressing. + +"Not so bad, not so bad," said Y.D., casually. "Some winter +losses, of course; snow's too deep this far up. Why?" + +"Oh, some of your neighbors down the valley say your cows are +uncommon prolific." + +"They do?" said Y.D., laying down his cards. "Who says that?" + +"Well, Wilson, for instance--" + +Y.D. sprang to his feet. "I've had one run-in with that ----," he +shouted, "an' I let him talk to me like a Sunday School +super'ntendent. Here's where I talk to him!" + +"Well, finish the game first," the others protested. "The night's +young." + +Y.D. was sufficiently drunk to be supersensitive about his honor, +and the inference from Wilson's remark was that he was too handy +with his branding-iron. + +"No, boys, no!" he protested. "I'll make that Englishman eat his +words or choke on them." + +"That's right," the company agreed. "The only thing to do. We'll +all go down with you." + +"An' you won't do that, neither," Y.D. answered. "Think I need a +body-guard for a little chore like that? Huh!" There was +immeasurable contempt in that monosyllable. + +But a fresh bottle was produced, and Y.D. was persuaded that his +honor would suffer no serious damage until the morning. Before +that time his company, with many demonstrations of affection and +admonitions to "make a good job of it," left for the mountains. + +Y.D. saddled his horse early, buckled his gun on his hip, hung a +lariat from his saddle, and took the trail for the Wilson ranch. +During the drinking and gambling of the night he had been able to +keep the insult in the background, but, alone under the morning +sun, it swept over him and stung him to fury. There was just +enough truth in the report to demand its instant suppression. + +Wilson was branding calves in his corral as Y.D. came up. He was +alone save for a girl of eighteen who tended the fire. + +Wilson looked up with a hot iron in his hand, nodded, then turned +to apply the iron before it cooled. As he leaned over the calf +Y.D. swung his lariat. It fell true over the Englishman, catching +him about the arms and the middle of the body. Y.D. took a half- +hitch of the lariat about his saddle horn, and the well-trained +horse dragged his victim in the most matter-of-fact manner out of +the gate of the corral and into the open. + +Y.D. shortened the line. After the first moment of confused +surprise Wilson tried to climb to his feet, but a quick jerk of the +lariat sent him prostrate again. In a moment Y.D. had taken up all +the line, and sat in his saddle looking down contemptuously upon +him. + +"Well," he said, "who's too handy with his branding-iron now?" + +"You are!" cried Wilson. "Give me a man's chance and I'll thrash +you here and now to prove it." + +For answer Y.D. clucked to his horse and dragged his enemy a few +yards farther. "How's the goin', Frank?" he said, in mock +cordiality. "Think you can stand it as far as the crick?" + +But at that instant an unexpected scene flashed before Y.D. He +caught just a glimpse of it--just enough to indicate what might +happen. The girl who had been tending the fire was rushing upon +him with a red-hot iron extended before her. Quicker than he could +throw himself from the saddle she had struck him in the face with +it. + +"You brand our calves!" she cried in a fury of recklessness. "I'll +brand YOU--damn you!" + +Y.D. threw himself from the saddle, but in the suddenness of her +onslaught he failed to clear it properly, and stumbled to the +ground. In a moment she was on him and had whipped his gun from +his belt. + +"Get up!" she said. And he got up. + +"Walk to that post, put your arms around it with your back to me, +and stand there." He did so. + +The girl kept him covered with the revolver while she released the +lariat that bound her father. + +"Are you hurt, Dad?" she inquired solicitously. + +"No, just shaken up," he answered, scrambling to his feet. + +"All right. Now we'll fix him!" + +The girl walked to the next post from Y.D.'s, climbed it leisurely +and seated herself on the top. + +"Now, Mr. Y.D.," she said, "you are going to fight like a white +man, with your fists. I'll sit up here and see that there's no +dirty work. First, advance and shake hands." + +"I'm damned if I will," said Y.D. + +The revolver spoke, and the bullet cut dangerously close to him. + +"Don't talk back to me again," she cried, "or you won't be able to +fight. Now shake hands." + +He extended his hand and Wilson took it for a moment. + +"Now when I count three," said the girl, "pile in. There's no time +limit. Fight 'til somebody's satisfied. One--two--three--" + +At the sound of the last word Wilson caught his opponent a punch on +the chin which stretched him. He got up slowly, gathering his wits +about him. He was twenty years younger than Wilson, but a rancher +of fifty is occasionally a better man than he was at thirty. Any +disadvantages Wilson suffered from being shaken up in the lariat +were counterbalanced by Y.D.'s branding. His face was burning +painfully, and his vision was not the best. But he had not +followed the herds since childhood without learning to use his +fists. He steadied himself on his knee to bring his mind into tune +with this unusual warfare. Then he rushed upon Wilson. + +He received another straight knock-out on the chin. It jarred the +joints of his neck and left him dazed. It was half a minute before +he could steady himself. He realized now that he had a fight on +his hands. He was too cool a head to get into a panic, but he +found he must take his time and do some brain work. Another chin +smash would put him out for good. + +He advanced carefully. Wilson stood awaiting him, a picture of +poise and self-confidence. Y.D. led a quick left to Wilson's ribs, +but failed to land. Wilson parried skilfully and immediately +answered with a left swing to the chin. But Y.D. was learning, and +this time he was on guard. He dodged the blow, broke in and seized +Wilson about the body. The two men stood for a moment like bulls +with locked horns. Y.D. brought his weight to bear on his +antagonist to force him to the ground, but in some way the +Englishman got elbow room and began raining short jabs on his face, +already raw from the branding-iron. Y.D. jerked back from this +assault. Then came the third smash on the chin. + +Y.D. gathered himself up very slowly. The world was swimming +around in circles. On a post sat a girl, covering him with a +revolver and laughing at him. Somewhere on the horizon Wilson's +figure whipped forward and back. Then his horse came into the +circle. Y.D. rose to his feet, strode with quick, uncertain steps +to his horse, threw himself into the saddle and without a word +started up the trail to The Forks. + +"Seems to have gone with as little ceremony as he came," Wilson +remarked to his daughter. "Now, let us get along with the +calves." . . . + +Y.D. rode the trail to The Forks in bitterness of spirit. He had +sallied forth that morning strong and daring to administer summary +punishment; he was retracing his steps thrashed, humiliated, +branded for life by a red iron thrust in his face by a slip of a +girl. He exhausted his by no means limited vocabulary of epithets, +but even his torrents of abuse brought no solace to him. The hot +sun beat down on his wounded face and hurt terribly, but he almost +forgot that pain in the agony of his humiliation. He had been +thrashed by an old man, with a wisp of a girl sitting on a post and +acting as referee. He turned in his saddle and through the empty +valley shouted an insulting name at her. + +Then Y.D. slowly began to feel his face burn with a fire not of the +branding-iron nor of the afternoon sun. He knew that his word was +a lie. He knew that he would not have dared use it in her father's +hearing. He knew that he was a coward. No man had ever called +Y.D. a coward; no man had ever known him for a coward; he had never +known himself as such--until to-day. With all his roughness Y.D. +had a sense of honor as keen as any razor blade. If he allowed +himself wide latitude in some matters it was because he had lived +his life in an atmosphere where the wide latitude was the thing. +The prairie had been his bed, the sky his roof, himself his own +policeman, judge, and executioner since boyhood. When responsibility +is so centralized wide latitudes must be allowed. But the uttermost +borders of that latitude were fixed with iron rigidity, and when he +had thrown a vile epithet at a decent woman he knew he had broken +the law of honor. He was a cur--a cur who should be shot in his +tracks for the cur he was. + +Y.D. did hard thinking all the way to The Forks. Again and again +the figure of the girl flashed before him; he would close his eyes +and jerk his head back to avoid the burning iron. Then he saw her +on the post, sitting, with apparent impartiality, on guard over the +fight. Yes, she had been impartial, in a way. Y.D. was willing to +admit that much, although he surmised that she knew more about her +father's prowess with his fists than he had known. She had had no +doubt about the outcome. + +"Well, she's good backing for her old man, anyway," he admitted, +with returning generosity. He had reached his cabin, and was +dressing his face with salve and soda. "She sure played the game +into the old man's hand." + +Y.D. could not sleep that night. He was busy sorting up his ideas +of life and revising them in the light of the day's experience. +The more he thought of his behavior the less defensible it +appeared. By midnight he was admitting that he had got just what +was coming to him. + +Presently he began to feel lonely. It was a strange sensation to +Y.D., whose life had been loneliness from the first, so that he had +never known it. Of course, there was the hunger for companionship; +he had often known that. A drinking bout, a night at cards, a +whirl into excess, and that would pass away. But this loneliness +was different. The moan of the wind in the spruce trees communicated +itself to him with an eerie oppressiveness. He sat up and lit a +lamp. The light fell on the bare logs of his hut; he had never +known before how bare they were. He got up and shuffled about; took +a lid off the stove and put it back on again; moved aimlessly about +the room, and at last sat down on the bed. + +"Y.D.," he said with a laugh, "I believe you've got nerves. You're +behavin' like a woman." + +But he could not laugh it off. The mention of a woman brought +Wilson's daughter back vividly before him. "She's a man's girl," +he found himself, saying. + +He sat up with a shock at his own words. Then he rested his chin +on his hands and gazed long at the blank wall before him. That was +life--his life. That blank wall was his life. . . . If only it +had a window in it; a bright space through which the vision could +catch a glimpse of something broader and better. . . . Well, he +could put a window in it. He could put a window in his life. + +The next noon Frank Wilson looked up with surprise to see Y.D. +riding into his yard. Wilson stiffened instantly, as though +setting himself against the shock of an attack, but there was +nothing belligerent in Y.D.'s greeting. + +"Wilson," he said, "I pulled a dirty trick on you yesterday, an' I +got more than I reckoned on. The old Y.D. would have come back +with a gun for vengeance. Well, I ain't after vengeance. I reckon +you an' me has got to live in this valley, an' we might as well +live peaceful. Does that go with you?" + +"Full weight and no shrinkage," said Wilson, heartily, extending +his hand. "Come up to the house for dinner." + +Y.D. was nothing loth to accept the invitation, even though he had +his misgivings as to how he should meet the women folks. It turned +out that Mrs. Wilson had been at a neighboring ranch for some days, +and the girl was in charge of the home. The flash in her eyes did +not conceal a glint of triumph--or was it humor? + +"Jessie," her father said, with conspicuous matter-of-factness, +"Y.D. has just dropped in for dinner." + +Y.D. stood with his hat in his hand. This was harder than meeting +Wilson. He felt that he could manage better if Wilson would get +out. + +"Miss Wilson," he managed to say at length, "I just thought I'd run +in an' thank you for what you did yesterday." + +"You're very welcome," she answered, and he could not tell whether +the note in her voice was of fun or sarcasm. "Any time I can be of +service--" + +"That's what I wanted to talk about," he broke in. There was +something bewitching about the girl. She more than realized his +fantastic visions of the night. She had mastered him. Perhaps it +was a subtle masculine desire to turn her mastery into ultimate +surrender that led him on. + +"That's just what I want to talk about. You started breakin' in an +outlaw yesterday, so to speak. How'd you like to finish the job?" + +Y.D. was very red when this speech was finished. He had not known +that a wisp of a girl could so discomfit a man. + +"Is that a proposal?" she asked, and this time he was sure the note +in her voice was one of banter. "I never had one, so I don't +know." + +"Well, yes, we'll call it that," he said, with returning courage. + +"Well we won't, either," she flared back. "Just because I sat on a +post and superintended the--the ceremonies, is no reason that you +should want to marry me,--or I, you. You'll find water and a basin +on the bench at the end of the house, and dinner will be ready in +twenty minutes." + +Y.D. had a feeling of a little boy being sent to wash himself. + +But the next spring he built a larger cabin down the valley from +The Forks, and to that cabin one day in June came Jessie Wilson to +"finish the job." + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Transley and Linder were so early about on the morning after their +conversation with Y.D. that there was no opportunity of another +meeting with the rancher's wife or daughter. They were slipping +quietly out of the house to take breakfast with the men when Y.D. +intercepted them. + +"Breakfast is waitin', boys," he said, and led them back into the +room where they had had supper the previous evening. Y.D. ate with +them, but the meal was served by the Chinese boy. + +In the yard all was jingling excitement. The men of the Y.D. were +fraternally assisting Transley's gang in hitching up and getting +away, and there was much bustling activity to an accompaniment of +friendly profanity. It was not yet six o'clock, but the sun was +well up over the eastern ridges that fringed the valley, and to the +west the snow-capped summits of the mountains shone like polished +ivory. The exhilaration in the air was almost intoxicating. + +Linder quickly converted the apparent chaos of horses, wagons and +implements into order; Transley had a last word with Y.D., and the +rancher, shouting "Good luck, boys! Make it a thousand tons or +more," waved them away. + +Linder glanced back at the house. The bright sunshine had not +awakened it; it lay dreaming in its grove of cool, green trees. + +The trail lay, not up the valley, but across the wedge of foothills +which divided the South Y.D. from the parent stream. The assent +was therefore much more rapid than the trails which followed the +general course of the stream. Huge hills, shouldering together, +left at times only wagon-track room between; at other places they +skirted dangerous cutbanks worn by spring freshets, and again +trekked for long distances over gently curving uplands. In an hour +the horses were showing the strain of it, and Linder halted them +for a momentary rest. + +It was at that moment that Drazk rode up, his face a study in +obvious annoyance. + +"Danged if I ain't left that Pete-horse's blanket down at the +Y.D.," he exclaimed. + +"Oh, well, you can easily ride back for it and catch up on us this +afternoon," said Linder, who was not in the least deceived. + +"Thanks, Lin," said Drazk. "I'll beat it down an' catch up on you +this afternoon, sure," and he was off down the trail as fast as +"that Pete-horse" could carry him. + +At the Y.D. George conducted the search for his horse blanket in +the strangest places. It took him mainly about the yard of the +house, and even to the kitchen door, where he interviewed the +Chinese boy. + +"You catchee horse blanket around here?" he inquired, with +appropriate gesticulations. + +"You losee hoss blanket?" + +"Yep." + +"What kind hoss blanket?" + +"Jus' a brown blanket for that Pete-horse." + +"Whose hoss?" + +"Mine," proudly. + +"Where you catchee?" + +"Raised him." + +"Good hoss?" + +"You betcha." + +"Huh!" + +Pause. + +"You no catchee horse blanket, hey?" + +"No!" said the Chinaman, whose manner instantly changed. In this +brief conversation he had classified Drazk, and classified him +correctly. "You catchee him, though--some hell, too--you stickee +lound here. Beat it," and Drazk found the kitchen door closed in +his face. + +Drazk wandered slowly around the side of the house, and was not +above a surreptitious glance through the windows. They revealed +nothing. He followed a path out by a little gate. His ruse had +proven a blind trail, and there was nothing to do but go down to +the stables, take the horse blanket from the peg where he had hung +it, and set out again for the South Y.D. + +As he turned a corner of the fence the sight of a young woman burst +upon him. She was hatless and facing the sun. Drazk, for all his +admiration of the sex, had little eye for detail. "A sort of +chestnut, about sixteen hands high, and with the look of a +thoroughbred," he afterwards described her to Linder. + +She turned at the sound of his footsteps, and Drazk instantly +summoned a smirk which set his homely face beaming with good humor. + +"Pardon me, ma'am," he said, with an elaborate bow. "I am Mr. +Drazk--Mr. George Drazk--Mr. Transley's assistant. No doubt he +spoke of me." + +She was inside the enclosure formed by the fence, and he outside. +She turned on him eyes which set Drazk's pulses strangely a-tingle, +and subjected him to a deliberate but not unfriendly inspection. + +"No, I don't believe he did," she said at length. Drazk cautiously +approached, as though wondering how near he could come without +frightening her away. He reached the fence and leaned his elbows +on it. She showed no disposition to move. He cautiously raised +one foot and rested it on the lower rail. + +"It's a fine morning, ma'am," he ventured. + +"Rather," she replied. "Why aren't you with Mr. Transley's gang?" + +The question gave George an opening. "Well, you see," he said, +"it's all on account of that Pete-horse. That's him down there. I +rode away this morning and plumb forgot his blanket. So when Mr. +Transley seen it he says, 'Drazk, take the day off an' go back for +your blanket,' he says. 'There's no hurry,' he says. 'Linder an' +me'll manage,' he says." + +"Oh!" + +"So here I am." He glanced at her again. She was showing no +disposition to run away. She was about two yards from him, along +the fence. Drazk wondered how long it would take him to bridge +that distance. Even as he looked she leaned her elbows on the +fence and rested one of her feet on the lower rail. Drazk fancied +he saw the muscles about her mouth pulling her face into little, +laughing curves, but she was gazing soberly into the distance. + +"He's some horse, that Pete-horse," he said, taking up the subject +which lay most ready to his tongue. "He's sure some horse." + +"I have no doubt." + +"Yep," Drazk continued. "Him an' me has seen some times. Whew! +Things I couldn't tell you about, at all." + +"Well, aren't you going to?" + +Drazk glanced at her curiously. This girl showed signs of leading +him out of his depth. But it was a very delightful sensation to +feel one's self being led out of his depth by such a girl. Her +face was motionless; her eyes fixed dreamily upon the brown +prairies that swept up the flanks of the foothills to the south. +Far and away on their curving crests the dark snake-line of +Transley's outfit could be seen apparently motionless on the rim of +the horizon. + +Drazk changed his foot on the rail and the motion brought him six +inches nearer her. + +"Well, f'r instance," he said, spurring his imagination into +action, "there was the fellow I run down an' shot in the Cypress +Hills." + +"Shot!" she exclaimed, and the note of admiration in her voice +stirred him to further flights. + +"Yep," he continued, proudly. "Shot an' buried him there, right by +the road where he fell. Only me an' that Pete-horse knows the +spot." + +George sighed sentimentally. "It's awful sad, havin' to kill a +man," he went on, "an' it makes you feel strange an' creepy, +'specially at nights. That is, the first one affects you that way, +but you soon get used to it. You see, he insulted--" + +"The first one? Have you killed more than one?" + +"Oh yes, lots of them. A man like me, what knocks around all over +with all sorts of people, has to do it. + +"Then there's the police. After you kill a few men nat'rally the +police begins to worry you. I always hate to kill a policeman." + +"It must be an interesting life." + +"It is, but it's a hard one," he said, after a pause during which +he had changed feet again and taken up another six inches of the +distance which separated them. He was almost afraid to continue +the conversation. He was finding progress so much easier than he +had expected. It was evident that he had made a tremendous hit +with Y.D.'s daughter. What a story to tell Linder! What would +Transley say? He was shaking with excitement. + +"It's an awful hard life," he went on, "an' there comes a time, +Miss, when a man wants to quit it. There comes a time when every +decent man wants to settle down. I been thinkin' about that a lot +lately. . . . What do YOU think about it?" Drazk had gone white. +He felt that he actually had proposed to her. + +"Might be a good idea," she replied, demurely. He changed feet +again. He had gone too far to stop. He must strike the iron when +it was hot. Of course he had no desire to stop, but it was all so +wonderful. He could speak to her now in a whisper. + +"How about you, Miss? How about you an' me jus' settlin' down?" + +She did not answer for a moment. Then, in a low voice, + +"It wouldn't be fair to accept you like this, Mr. Drazk. You don't +know anything about me." + +"An' I don't want to--I mean, I don't care what about you." + +"But it wouldn't be fair until you know," she continued. "There +are things I'd have to tell you, and I don't like to." + +She was looking downwards now, and he fancied he could see the +color rising about her cheeks and her frame trembling. He turned +toward her and extended his arms. "Tell me--tell your own George," +he cooed. + +"No," she said, with sudden rigidity. "I can't confess." + +"Come on," he pleaded. "Tell me. I've been a bad man, too." + +She seemed to be weighing the matter. "If I tell you, you will +never, never mention it to anyone?" + +"Never. I swear it to you," dramatically raising his hand. + +"Well," she said, looking down bashfully and making little marks +with her finger-nail in the pole on which they were leaning, "I +never told anyone before, and nobody in the world knows it except +he and I, and he doesn't know it now either, because I killed +him. . . . I had to do it." + +"Of course you did, dear," he murmured. It was wonderful to +receive a woman's confidence like this. + +"Yes, I had to kill him," she repeated. "You see, he--he proposed +to me without being introduced!" + +It was some seconds before Drazk felt the blow. It came to him +gradually, like returning consciousness to a man who has been +stunned. Then anger swept him. + +"You're playin' with me," he cried. "You're makin' a fool of me!" + +"Oh, George dear, how could I?" she protested. "Now perhaps you +better run along to that Pete-horse. He looks lonely." + +"All right," he said, striding away angrily. As he walked his rage +deepened, and he turned and shook his fist at her, shouting, "All +right, but I'll get you yet, see? You think you're smart, and +Transley thinks he's smart, but George Drazk is smarter than both +of you, and he'll get you yet." + +She waved her hand complacently, but her composure had already +maddened him. He jerked his horse up roughly, threw himself into +the saddle, and set out at a hard gallop along the trail to the +South Y.D. + +It was mid-afternoon when he overtook Transley's outfit, now +winding down the southern slope of the tongue of foothills which +divided the two valleys of the Y.D. Pete, wet over the flanks, +pulled up of his own accord beside Linder's wagon. + +"'Lo, George," said Linder. "What's your hurry?" Then, glancing +at his saddle, "Where's your blanket?" + +Drazk's jaw dropped, but he had a quick wit, although an unbalanced +one. + +"Well, Lin, I clean forgot all about it," he admitted, with a +laugh, "but when a fellow spends the morning chatting with old +Y.D.'s daughter I guess he's allowed to forget a few things." + +"Oh!" + +"Reckon you don't believe it, eh, Lin? Reckon you don't believe I +stood an' talked with her over the fence for so long I just had to +pull myself away?" + +"You reckon right." + +George was thinking fast. Here was an opportunity to present the +incident in a light which had not before occurred to him. + +"Guess you wouldn't believe she told me her secret--told me +somethin' she had never told anybody else, an' made me swear not to +mention. Guess you don't believe that, neither?" + +"You guess right again." Linder was quite unperturbed. He knew +something of Drazk's gift for romancing. + +Drazk leaned over in the saddle until he could reach Linder's ear +with a loud whisper. "And she called me 'dear'; 'George dear,' she +said, when I came away." + +"The hell she did!" said Linder, at last prodded into interest. He +considered the "George dear" idea a daring flight, even for Drazk. +"Better not let old Y.D. hear you spinning anything like that, +George, or he'll be likely to spoil your youthful beauty." + +"Oh, Y.D.'s all right," said George, knowingly. "Y.D.'s all right. +Well, I guess I'll let Pete feed a bit here, and then we'll go back +for his blanket. You'll have to excuse me a bit these days, Lin; +you know how it is when a fellow's in love." + +"Huh!" said Linder. + +George dropped behind, and an amused smile played on the foreman's +face. He had known Drazk too long to be much surprised at anything +he might do. It was Drazk's idea of gallantry to make love to +every girl on sight. Possibly Drazk had managed to exchange a word +with Zen, and his imagination would readily expand that into a love +scene. Zen! Even the placid, balanced Linder felt a slight leap +in the blood at the unusual name, which to him suggested the bright +girl who had come into his life the night before. Not exactly into +his life; it would be fairer to say she had touched the rim of his +life. Perhaps she would never penetrate it further; Linder rather +expected that would be the case. As for Drazk--she was in no +danger from him. Drazk's methods were so precipitous that they +could be counted upon to defeat themselves. + +Below stretched the valley of the South Y.D., almost a duplicate of +its northern neighbor. The stream hugged the feet of the hills on +the north side of the valley; its ribbon of green and gold was like +a fringe gathered about the hem of their skirts. Beyond the stream +lay the level plains of the valley, and miles to the south rose the +next ridge of foothills. It was from these interlying plains that +Y.D. expected his thousand tons of hay. There is no sleugh hay in +the foothill country; the hay is cut on the uplands, a short, fine +grass of great nutritive value. This grass, if uncut, cures in its +natural state, and affords sustenance to the herds which graze over +it all winter long. But it occasionally happens that after a snow- +fall the Chinook wind will partially melt the snow, and then a +sudden drop in the temperature leaves the prairies and foothills +covered with a thin coating of ice. It is this ice covering, +rather than heavy snow-fall or severe weather, which is the +principal menace to winter grazing, and the foresighted rancher +aims to protect himself and his stock from such a contingency by +having a good reserve of hay in stack. + +Here, then, was the valley in which Y.D. hoped to supplement the +crop of his own hay lands. Linder's appreciative eye took in the +scene: a scene of stupendous sizes and magnificent distances. As +he slowly turned his vision down the valley a speck in the distance +caught his sight and brought him to his feet. Shading his eyes +from the bright afternoon sun he surveyed it long and carefully. +There was no doubt about it: a haying outfit was already at work +down the valley. + +Leaving his team to manage themselves Linder dropped from his wagon +and joined Transley. "Some one has beat us to it," he remarked. + +"So I observed," said Transley. "Well, it's a big valley, and if +they're satisfied to stay where they are there should be enough for +both. If they're not--" + +"If they're not, what?" demanded Linder. + +"You heard what Y.D. said. He said, 'Cut it, spite o' hell an' +high water,' and I always obey orders." + +They wound down the hillside until they came to the stream, the +horses quickening their pace with the smell of water in their eager +nostrils. It was a good ford, broad and shallow, with the typical +boulder bottom of the mountain stream. The horses crowded into it, +drinking greedily with a sort of droning noise caused by the bits +in their mouths. When they had satisfied their thirst they raised +their heads, stretched their noses far out and champed wide-mouthed +upon their bits. + +After a pause in the stream they drew out on the farther bank, +where were open spaces among cottonwood trees, and Transley +indicated that this would be their camping ground. Already smoke +was issuing from the chuck wagon, and in a few minutes the men's +sleeping tent and the two stable tents were flashing back the +afternoon sun. They carried no eating tent; instead of that an +eating wagon was backed up against the chuck wagon, and the men +were served in it. They had not paused for a midday meal; the cook +had provided sandwiches of bread and roast beef to dull the edge of +their appetite, and now all were keen to fall to as soon as the +welcome clanging of the plow-colter which hung from the end of the +chuck wagon should give the signal. + +Presently this clanging filled the evening air with sweet music, +and the men filed with long, slouchy tread into the eating wagon. +The table ran down the centre, with bench seats at either side. +The cook, properly gauging the men's appetites, had not taken time +to prepare meat and potatoes, but on the table were ample basins of +graniteware filled with beans and bread and stewed prunes and +canned tomatoes, pitchers of syrup and condensed milk, tins with +marmalade and jam, and plates with butter sadly suffering from the +summer heat. The cook filled their granite cups with hot tea from +a granite pitcher, and when the cups were empty filled them again +and again. And when the tables were partly cleared he brought out +deep pies filled with raisins and with evaporated apples and a +thick cake from which the men cut hunks as generous as their +appetite suggested. Transley had learned, what women are said to +have learned long ago, that the way to a man's heart is through his +stomach, and the cook had carte blanche. Not a man who ate at +Transley's table but would have spilt his blood for the boss or for +the honor of the gang. + +The meal was nearing its end when through a window Linder's eye +caught sight of a man on horseback rapidly approaching. "Visitors, +Transley," he was able to say before the rider pulled up at the +open door of the covered wagon. + +He was such a rider as may still be seen in those last depths of +the ranching country where wheels have not entirely crowded Romance +off of horseback. Spare and well-knit, his figure had a suggestion +of slightness which the scales would have belied. His face, keen +and clean-shaven, was brown as the August hills, and above it his +broad hat sat in the careless dignity affected by the gentlemen of +the plains. His leather coat afforded protection from the heat of +day and from the cold of night. + +"Good evening, men," he said, courteously. "Don't let me disturb +your meal. Afterwards perhaps I can have a word with the boss." + +"That's me," said Transley, rising. + +"No, don't get up," the stranger protested, but Transley insisted +that he had finished, and, getting down from the wagon, led the way +a little distance from the eager ears of its occupants. + +"My name is Grant," said the stranger; "Dennison Grant. I am +employed by Mr. Landson, who has a ranch down the valley. If I am +not mistaken you are Mr. Transley." + +"You are not mistaken," Transley replied. + +"And I am perhaps further correct," continued Grant, "in surmising +that you are here on behalf of the Y.D., and propose cutting hay in +this valley?" + +"Your grasp of the situation does you credit." Transley's manner +was that of a man prepared to meet trouble somewhat more than half +way. + +"And I may further surmise," continued Grant, quite unruffled, +"that Y.D. neglected to give you one or two points of information +bearing upon the ownership of this land, which would doubtless have +been of interest to you?" + +"Suppose you dismount," said Transley. "I like to look a man in +the face when I talk business to him." + +"That's fair," returned Grant, swinging lightly from his horse. "I +have a preference that way myself." He advanced to within arm's +length of Transley and for a few moments the two men stood +measuring each other. It was steel boring steel; there was not a +flicker of an eyelid. + +"We may as well get to business, Grant," said Transley at length. +"I also can do some surmising. I surmise that you were sent here +by Landson to forbid me to cut hay in this valley. On what +authority he acts I neither know nor care. I take my orders from +Y.D. Y.D. said cut the hay. I am going to cut it." + +"YOU ARE NOT!" + +Transley's muscles could be seen to go tense beneath his shirt. + +"Who will stop me?" he demanded. + +"You will be stopped." + +"The Mounted Police?" There was contempt in his voice, but the +contempt was not for the Force. It was for the rancher who would +appeal to the police to settle a "friendly" dispute. + +"No, I don't think it will be necessary to call in the police," +returned Grant, dropping back to his pleasant, casual manner. "You +know Y.D., and doubtless you feel quite safe under his wing. But +you don't know Landson. Neither do you know the facts of the case-- +the right and wrong of it. Under these handicaps you cannot reach +a decision which is fair to yourself and to your men." + +"Further argument is simply waste of time," Transley interrupted. +"I have told you my instructions, and I have told you that I am +going to carry them out. Have you had your supper?" + +"Yes, thanks. All right, we won't argue any more. I'm not arguing +now--I'm telling you, Y.D. has cut hay in this valley so long he +thinks he owns it, and the other ranchers began to think he owned +it. But Landson has been making a few inquiries. He finds that +these are not Crown lands, but are privately owned by speculators +in New York. He has contracted with the owners for the hay rights +of these lands for five years, beginning with the present season. +He is already cutting farther down the valley, and will be cutting +here within a day or two." + +"The trout ought to bite on a fine evening like this," said +Transley. "I have an extra rod and some flies. Will you try a +throw or two with me?" + +"I would be glad to, but I must get back to camp. I hope you land +a good string," and so saying Grant remounted, nodded to Transley +and again to the men now scattered about the camp, and started his +horse on an easy lope down the valley. + +"Well, what is it to be?" said Linder, coming up with the rest of +the boys. "War?" + +"War if they fight," Transley replied, unconcernedly. "Y.D. said +cut the hay; 'spite o' hell an' high water,' he said. That goes." + +Slowly the great orb of the sun sank until the crest of the +mountains pierced its molten glory and sent it burnishing their +rugged heights. In the east the plains were already wrapped in +shadow. Up the valley crept the veil of night, hushing even the +limitless quiet of the day. The stream babbled louder in the +lowering gloom; the stamp and champing of horses grew less +insistent; the cloudlets overhead faded from crimson to mauve to +blue to grey. + +Transley tapped the ashes from his pipe and went to bed. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +"How about a ride over to the South Fork this afternoon, Zen?" said +Y.D. to his daughter the following morning. "I just want to make +sure them boys is hittin' the high spots. The grass is gettin' +powerful dry an' you can never tell what may happen." + +"You're on," the girl replied across the breakfast table. Her +mother looked up sharply. She wondered if the prospect of another +meeting with Transley had anything to do with Zen's alacrity. + +"I had hoped you would outgrow your slang, Zen," she remonstrated +gently. "Men like Mr. Transley are likely to judge your training +by your speech." + +"I should worry. Slang is to language what feathers are to a hat-- +they give it distinction, class. They lift it out of the drab +commonplace." + +"Still, I would not care to be dressed entirely in feathers," her +mother thrust quietly. + +"Good for you, Mother!" the girl exclaimed, throwing an arm about +her neck and planking a firm kiss on her forehead. "That was a +solar plexus. Now I'll try to be good and wear a feather only here +and there. But Mr. Transley has nothing to do with it." + +"Of course not," said Y.D. "Still, Transley is a man with snap in +him. That's why he's boss. So many of these ornery good-for- +nothin's is always wishin' they was boss, but they ain't willin' to +pay the price. It costs somethin' to get to the head of the herd-- +an' stay there." + +"He seems firm on all fours," the girl agreed. "How do we travel, +and when?" + +"Better take a democrat, I guess," her father said. "We can throw +in a tent and some bedding for you, as we'll maybe stay over a +couple of nights." + +"The blue sky is tent enough for me," Zen protested, "and I can +surely rustle a blanket or two around the camp. Besides, I'll want +a riding horse to get around with there." + +"You can run him beside the democrat," said her father. "You're +gettin' too big to go campin' promisc'us like when you was a kid." + +"That's the penalty for growing up," Zen sighed. "All right, Dad. +Say two o'clock?" + +The girl spent the morning helping her mother about the house, and +casting over in her mind the probable developments of the near +future. She would not have confessed outwardly to even a casual +interest in Transley, but inwardly she admitted that the promise of +another meeting with him gave zest to the prospect. Transley was +interesting. At least he was out of the commonplace. His bold +directness had rather fascinated her. He had a will. Her father +had always admired men with a will, and Zen shared his admiration. +Then there was Linder. The fierce light of Transley's charms did +not blind her to the glow of quiet capability which she saw in +Linder. If one were looking for a husband, Linder had much to +recommend him. He was probably less capable than Transley, but he +would be easier to manage. . . . But who was looking for a +husband? Not Zen. No, no, certainly not Zen. + +Then there was George Drazk, whose devotions fluctuated between +"that Pete-horse" and the latest female to cross his orbit. At the +thought of George Drazk Zen laughed outright. She had played with +him. She had made a monkey of him, and he deserved all he had got. +It was not the first occasion upon which Zen had let herself drift +with the tide, always sure of justifying herself and discomfiting +someone by the swift, strong strokes with which, at the right +moment, she reached the shore. Zen liked to think of herself as +careering through life in the same way as she rode the half-broken +horses of her father's range. How many such a horse had thought +that the lithe body on his back was something to race with, toy +with, and, when tired of that, fling precipitately to earth! And +not one of those horses but had found that while he might race and +toy with his rider within limitations, at the last that light body +was master, and not he. . . . Yet Zen loved best the horse that +raced wildest and was hardest to bring into subjection. + +That was her philosophy of life so far as a girl of twenty may have +a philosophy of life. It was to go on and see what would happen, +supported always by a quiet confidence that in any pinch she could +take care of herself. She had learned to ride and shoot, to sleep +out and cook in the open, to ride the ranges after dark by instinct +and the stars--she had learned these things while other girls of +her age learned the rudiments of fancy-work and the scales of the +piano. + +Her father and mother knew her disposition, loved it, and feared +for it. They knew that there was never a rider so brave, so +skilful, so strong, but some outlaw would throw him at last. So at +fourteen they sent her east to a boarding-school. In two months +she was back with a letter of expulsion, and the boast of having +blacked the eyes of the principal's daughter. + +"They couldn't teach me any more, Mother," she said. "They +admitted it. So here I am." + +Y.D. was plainly perplexed. "It's about time you was halter- +broke," he commented, "but who's goin' to do it?" + +"If a girl has learned to read and think, what more can the schools +do for her?" she demanded. + +And Y.D., never having been to school, could not answer. + +The sun was capping the Rockies with molten gold when the rancher +and his daughter swung down the foothill slopes to the camp on the +South Y.D. Strings of men and horses returning from the upland +meadows could be seen from the hillside as they descended. + +Y.D.'s sharp eyes measured the scale of operations. + +"They're hittin' the high spots," he said, approvingly. "That boy +Transley is a hum-dinger." + +Zen made no reply. + +"I say he's a hum-dinger," her father repeated. + +The girl looked up with a quick flush of surprise. Y.D. was no +puzzle to her, and if he went out of his way to commend Transley he +had a purpose. + +"Mr. Transley seems to have made a hit with you, Dad," she +remarked, evasively. + +"Well, I do like to see a man who's got the goods in him. I like a +man that can get there, just as I like a horse that can get there. +I've often wondered, Zen, what kind you'd take up with, when it +came to that, an' hoped he'd be a live crittur. After I'm dead an' +buried I don't want no other dead one spendin' my simoleons." + +"How about Mr. Linder?" said Zen, naively. + +Her father looked up sharply. "Zen," he said, "you're not serious?" + +Zen laughed. "I don't figure you're exactly serious, Dad, in your +talk about Transley. You're just feeling out. Well--let me do a +little feeling out. How about Linder?" + +"Linder's all right," Y.D. replied. "Better than the average, I +admit. But he's not the man Transley is. If he was, he wouldn't +be workin' for Transley. You can't keep a man down, Zen, if he's +got the goods in him. Linder comes up over the average, so's you +can notice it, but not like Transley does." + +Zen did not pursue the subject. She understood her father's +philosophy very well indeed, and, to a large degree, she accepted +it as her own. It was natural that a man of Y.D.'s experience, who +had begun life with no favors and had asked none since, and had +made of himself a big success--it was natural that such a man +should judge all others by their material achievements. The only +quality Y.D. took off his hat to was the ability to do things. And +Y.D.'s idea of things was very concrete; it had to do with steers +and land, with hay and money and men. It was by such things he +measured success. And Zen was disposed to agree with him. Why +not? It was the only success she knew. + +Transley was greeting them as they drew into camp. + +"Glad to see you, Y.D.; honored to have a visit from you, Ma'am," +he said, as he helped them from the democrat, and gave instructions +for the care of their horses. "Supper is waiting, and the men +won't be ready for some time." + +Y.D. shook hands with Transley cordially. "Zen an' me just thought +we'd run over and see how the wind blew," he said. "You got a good +spot here for a camp, Transley. But we won't go in to supper just +now. Let the men eat first; I always say the work horses should be +first at the barn. Well, how's she goin'?" + +"Fine," said Transley, "fine," but it was evident his mind was +divided. He was glancing at Zen, who stood by during the +conversation. + +"I must try and make your daughter at home," he continued. "I +allow myself the luxury of a private tent, and as you will be +staying over night I will ask you to accept it for her." + +"But I have my own tent with me, in the democrat," said Zen. "If +you will let the men pitch it under the trees where I can hear the +water murmuring in the night--" + +"Who'd have thought it, from the daughter of the practical Y.D!" +Transley bantered. "All right, Ma'am, but in the meantime take my +tent. I'll get water, and there's a basin." He already was +leading the way. "Make yourself at home--Zen. May I call you +Zen?" he added, in a lower voice, as they left Y.D. at a distance. + +"Everybody calls me Zen." + +They were standing at the door of the tent, he holding back the +flap that she might enter. The valley was already in shadow, and +there was no sunlight to play on her hair, but her face and figure +in the mellow dusk seemed entirely winsome and adorable. There was +no taint of Y.D.'s millions in the admiration that Transley bent +upon her. . . . Of course, as an adjunct, the millions were not to +be despised. + +When the men had finished supper Transley summoned her. On the way +to the chuck-wagon she passed close to George Drazk. It was +evident that he had chosen a station with that result in view. She +had passed by when she turned, whimsically. + +"Well, George, how's that Pete-horse?" she said. + +"Up an comin' all the time, Zen," he answered. + +She bit her lip over his familiarity, but she had no come-back. +She had given him the opening, by calling him "George." + +"You see, I got quite well acquainted with Mr. Drazk when he came +back to hunt for a horse blanket which had mysteriously +disappeared," she explained to Transley. + +They ascended the steps which led from the ground into the wagon. +The table had been reset for four, and as the shadows were now +heavy in the valley, candles had been lighted. Y.D. and his +daughter sat on one side, Transley on the other. In a moment +Linder entered. He had already had a talk with Y.D., but had not +met Zen since their supper together in the rancher's house. + +"Glad to see you again, Mr. Linder," said the girl, rising and +extending her hand across the table. "You see we lost no time in +returning your call." + +Linder took her hand in a frank grasp, but could think of nothing +in particular to say. "We're glad to have you," was all he could +manage. + +Zen was rather sorry that Linder had not made more of the situation. +She wondered what quick repartee, shot, no doubt, with double +meaning, Transley would have returned. It was evident that, as +her father had said, Linder was second best. And yet there was +something about his shyness that appealed to her even more than did +Transley's superb self-confidence. + +The meal was spent in small talk about horses and steers and the +merits of the different makes of mowing machines. When it was +finished Transley apologized for not offering his guests any +liquor. "I never keep it about the camp," he said. + +"Quite right," Y.D. agreed, "quite right. Booze is like fire; a +valuable thing in careful hands, but mighty dangerous when +everybody gets playin' with it. I reckon the grass is gettin' +pretty dry, Transley?" + +"Mighty dry, all right, but we're taking every precaution." + +"I'm sure you are, but you can't take precautions for other people. +Has anybody been puttin' you up to any trouble here?" + +"Well, no, I can't exactly say trouble," said Transley, "but we've +got notice it's coming. A chap named Grant, foreman, I think, for +Landson, down the valley, rode over last night, and invited us not +to cut any hay hereabouts. He was very courteous, and all that, +but he had the manner of a man who'd go quite a distance in a +pinch." + +"What did you tell him?" + +"Told him I was working for Y.D., and then asked him to stay for +supper." + +"Did he stay?" Zen asked. + +"He did not. He cantered off back, courteous as he came. And this +morning we went out on the job, and have cut all day, and nothing +has happened." + +"I guess he found you were not to be bluffed," said Zen, and +Transley could not prevent a flush of pleasure at her compliment. +"Of course Landson has no real claim to the hay, has he, Dad?" + +"Of course not. I reckon them'll be his stacks we saw down the +valley. Well, I'm not wantin' to rob him of the fruit of his +labor, an' if he keeps calm perhaps we'll let him have what he has +cut, but if he don't--" Y.D.'s face hardened with the set of a man +accustomed to fight, and win, his own battles. "I think we'll just +stick around a day or two in case he tries to start anythin'," he +continued. + +"Well, five o'clock comes early," said Transley, "and you folks +must be tired with your long drive. We've had your tent pitched +down by the water, Zen, so that its murmurs may sing you to sleep. +You see, I have some of the poetic in me, too. Mr. Linder will +show you down, and I will see that your father is made comfortable. +And remember--five o'clock does not apply to visitors." + +The camp now lay in complete darkness, save where a lantern threw +its light from a tent by the river. Zen walked by Linder's side. +Presently she reached out and took his arm. + +"I beg your pardon," said Linder. "I should have offered--" + +"Of course you should. Mr. Transley would not have waited to be +told. Dad thinks that anything that's worth having in this world +is worth going after, and going after hard. I guess I'm Dad's +daughter in more ways than one." + +"I suppose he's right," Linder confessed, "but I've always been +shy. I get along all right with men." + +"The truth is, Mr Linder, you're not shy--you're frightened. Now I +can well believe that no man could frighten you. Consequently you +get along all right with men. Do I need to tell you the rest?" + +"I never thought of myself as being afraid of women," he replied. +"It has always seemed that they were, well, just out of my line." + +They had reached the tent but the girl made no sign of going in. +In the silence the sibilant lisp of the stream rose loud about +them. + +"Mr. Linder," she said at length, "do you know why Mr. Transley +sent you down here with me?" + +"I'm sure I don't, except to show you to your tent." + +"That was the least of his purposes. He wanted to show you that he +wasn't afraid of you; and he wanted to show me that he wasn't +afraid of you. Mr. Transley is a very self-confident individual. +There is such a thing as being too self-confident, Mr. Linder, just +as there is such a thing as being too shy. Do you get me? Good +night!" And with a little rush she was in her tent. + +Linder walked slowly down to the water's edge, and stood there, +thinking, until her light went out. His brain was in a whirl with +a sensation entirely strange to it. A light wind, laden with snow- +smell from the mountains, pressed gently against his features, and +presently Linder took deeper breaths than he had ever known before. + +"By Jove!" he said. "Who'd have thought it possible?" + + + +CHAPTER V + + +When Zen awoke next morning the mowing machines of Transley's +outfit were already singing their symphony in the meadows; she +could hear the metallic rhythm as it came borne on the early +breeze. She lay awake on her camp cot for a few minutes, +stretching her fingers to the canvas ceiling and feeling that it +was good to be alive. And it was. The ripple of water came from +almost underneath the walls of her tent; the smell of spruce trees +and balm-o'-Gilead and new-mown hay was in the air. She could feel +the warmth of the sunshine already pouring upon her white roof; she +could trace the gentle sway of the trees by the leafy patterns +gliding forward and back. A cheeky gopher, exploring about the +door of her tent, ventured in, and, sitting bolt upright, sent his +shrill whistle boldly forth. She watched his fine bravery for a +minute, then clapped her hands together, and laughed as he fled. + +"Therein we have the figures of both Transley and Linder," she +mused to herself. "Upright, Transley; horizontal, Linder. I doubt +if the poor fellow slept last night after the fright I gave him." +Slowly and calmly she turned the incident over in her mind. She +wondered a little if she had been quite fair with Linder. Her +words and conduct were capable of very broad interpretations. She +was not at all in love with Linder; of that Zen was very sure. She +was equally sure that she was not at all in love with Transley. +She admitted that she admired Transley for his calm assumptions, +but they nettled her a little nevertheless. If this should develop +into a love affair--IF it should--she had no intention that it was +to be a pleasant afternoon's canter. It was to be a race--a race, +mind you--and may the best man win! She had a feeling, amounting +almost to a conviction, that Transley underrated his foreman's +possibilities in such a contest. She had seen many a dark horse, +less promising than Linder, gallop home with the stakes. + +Then Zen smiled her own quiet, self-confident smile, the smile +which had come down to her from Y.D. and from the Wilsons--the only +family that had ever mastered him. The idea of either Transley or +Linder thinking he could gallop home with HER! For the moment she +forgot to do Linder the justice of remembering that nothing was +further from his thoughts. She would show them. She would make a +race of it--ALMOST to the wire. In the home stretch she would make +the leap, out and over the fence. She was in it for the race, not +for the finish. + +Zen contemplated for some minutes the possibilities of that race; +then, as the imagination threatened to become involved, she sprang +from her cot and thrust a cautious head through the door of her +tent. The gang had long since gone to the fields, and friendly +bushes sheltered her from view from the cook-car. She drew on her +boots, shook out her hair, threw a towel across her shoulders, and, +soap in hand, walked boldly the few steps to the stream rippling +over its shiny gravel bed. She stopped and tested the water with +her fingers; then brought it in fresh, cool handfuls about her face +and neck. + +"Mornin', Zen!" said a familiar voice. "'Scuse me for happenin' to +be here. I was jus' waterin' that Pete-horse after a hard ride." + +"Now look here, Mr. Drazk!" said the girl, whipping her scanty +clothing about her, "if I had a gun that Pete-horse would be +scheduled for his fastest travel in the next twenty seconds, and +he'd end it without a rider, too. I won't have you spying about!" + +"Aw, don' be cross," Drazk protested. He was sitting on his horse +in the ford a dozen yards away. "I jus' happened along. I guess +the outside belongs to all of us. Say, Zen, if I was to get +properly interduced, what's the chances?" + +"Not one in a million, and if that isn't odds enough I'll double +it." + +"You're not goin' to hitch up with Linder, are you?" + +"Linder? Who said anything about Linder?" + +"Gee, but ain't she innercent?" Drazk stepped his horse up a few +feet to facilitate conversation. "I alus take an interest in +innercent gals away from home, so I kinda kep' my angel eye on you +las' night. An' I see Linder stalkin' aroun' here an' sighin' out +over the water when he should 'ave been in bed. But, of course, +he's been interduced." + +"George Drazk, if you speak to me again I'll horse-whip you out of +the camp at noon before all the men. Now, beat it!" + +"Jus' as you say, Ma'am," he returned, with mock courtesy. "But I +could tell a strange story if I would. But you don't need to be +scared. That's one thing I never do--I never squeal on a friend." + +She was burning with his insults, and if she had had a gun at hand +she undoubtedly would have made good her threat. But she had none. +Drazk very deliberately turned his horse and rode away toward the +meadows. + +"Oh, won't I fix him!" she said, as she continued her toilet in a +fury. She had not the faintest idea what revenge she would take, +but she promised herself that it would leave nothing to be desired. +Then, because she was young and healthy and an optimist, and did +not know what it meant to be afraid, she dismissed the incident +from her mind to consider the more urgent matter of breakfast. + +Tompkins, the cook, had not needed Transley's suggestion to put his +best foot forward when catering to Y.D. and his daughter. Tompkins' +soul yearned for a cooking berth that could be occupied the year +round. Work in the railway camps had always left him high and dry +at the freeze-up--dry, particularly, and a few nights in Calgary or +Edmonton saw the end of his season's earnings. Then came a +precarious existence for Tompkins until the scrapers were back on +the dump the following spring. A steady job, cooking on a ranch +like the Y.D.; if Tompkins had written the Apocalypse that would +have been his picture of heaven. So he had left nothing undone, +even to despatching a courier over night to a railway station thirty +miles away for fresh fruit and other delicacies. Another of the gang +had been impressed into a trip up the river to a squatter who was +suspected of keeping one or two milch cows and sundry hens. + +"This way, Ma'am," Tompkins was waving as Zen emerged from the +grove. "Another of our usual mornings. Hope you slep' well, +Ma'am." He stood deferentially aside while she ascended the three +steps that led into the covered wagon. + +Zen gave a little shriek of delight, and Tompkins felt that all his +efforts had been well repaid. One end of the table--it was with a +sore heart Tompkins had realized that he could not cut down the big +table--one end of the table was set with a clean linen cloth and +granite dishware scoured until it shone. Beside Zen's plate were +grape fruit and sliced oranges and real cream. + +"However did you manage it?" she gasped. + +"Nothing's too good for Y.D.'s daughter," was the only explanation +Tompkins would offer, but, as Zen afterwards said, the smile on his +face was as good as another breakfast. After the fruit came +porridge, and more cream; then fresh boiled eggs with toast; then +fresh ripe strawberries with more cream. + +"Mr.--Mr.--" + +"Tompkins, Ma'am; Cyrus Tompkins," he supplied. + +"Well, Mr. Tompkins, you're a wonder, and when there's a new cook +to be engaged for the Y.D. I shall think of you." + +"Indeed I wish you would, Ma'am," he said, earnestly. "This road +work's all right, and nobody ever cooked for a better boss than Mr. +Transley--savin' it would be your father, Ma'am--but I'm a man of +family, an' it's pretty hard--" + +"Family, did you say, Mr. Tompkins? How many of a family have +you?" + +"Well, it's seven years since I heard from them--I haven't +corresponded very reg'lar of late, but they WAS six--" + +The story of Tompkins' family was cut short by the arrival of a +team and mowing machine. + +"What's up, Fred?" called Tompkins through a window of his dining +car to the driver. "Breakfust is just over, an' dinner ain't +begun." + +For answer the man addressed as Fred slowly produced an iron stake +about eighteen inches long and somewhat less than an inch in +diameter. + +"What kind of shrubbery do you call that, Tompkins?" he demanded. + +"Well, it ain't buffalo grass, an' it ain't brome grass, an' I +don't figger it's alfalfa," said Tompkins, meditatively. + +"No, and it ain't a grub-stake," Fred replied, with some sarcasm. +"It's a iron stake, growin' right in a nice little clump of grass, +and I run on to it and bust my cuttin'-bar all to--that is, all to +pieces," he completed rather lamely, taking Zen into his glance. + +"I think I follow you," she said, with a smile. "Can you fix it +here?" + +"Nope. Have to go to town for a new one. Two days' lost time, +when every hour counts. Hello! Here comes someone else." + +Another of the teamsters was drawing into camp. "Hello, Fred!" he +said, upon coming up with his fellow workman, "you in too? I had a +bit of bad luck. I run smash on to an iron stake right there in +the ground and crumpled my knife like so much soap." + +"I did worse," said Fred, with a grin. "I bust my cuttin'-bar." + +The two men exchanged a steady glance for half a minute. Then the +new-comer gave vent to a long, low whistle. + +"So that's the way of it," he said. "That's the kind of war Mr. +Landson makes. Well, we can fight back with the same weapons, but +that won't cut the hay, will it?" + +By this time Y.D. and Transley, with four other teamsters, were +observed coming in. Each driver had had the same experience. An +iron stake, carefully hidden in a clump of grass, had been driven +down into the ground until it was just high enough to intercept the +cutting-bar. The fine, sharp knives were crumpled against it; in +some cases the heavy cutting-bar, in which the knives operate, was +damaged. + +Y.D.'s face was black with fury. + +"That's the lowest, mangyest, cowardliest trick I ever had pulled +on me," he was saying. "I'm plumb equal to ridin' down to +Landson's an' drivin' one of them stakes through under his short +ribs." + +"But can you prove that Landson did it?" said Zen, who had an +element of caution in her when her father was concerned. She had a +vision of a fight, with Landson pleading entire ignorance of the +whole cause of offence, and her father probably summoned by the +police for unprovoked assault. + +"No, I can't prove that Landson did it, an' I can't prove that the +grass my steers eat turns to hair on their backs," he retorted, +"but I reach my own conclusions. Is there any shootin' irons in +the place?" + +"Now, Dad, that's enough," said the girl, firmly. "There'll be no +shooting between you and Landson. If there is to be anything of +that kind I'll ride down ahead and warn him of what's coming." + +"Darter," said Y.D.--it was only on momentous occasions that he +addressed her as daughter--"I brought you over here as a guest, not +as manager o' my affairs. I've taken care of those affairs for some +considerable years, an' I reckon I still have the qualifications. +If you're a-goin' to act up obstrep'rous I'll get Mr. Transley to +lend me a man to escort you home." + +"At your service, Y.D.," said George Drazk, who was in the crowd +which had gathered about the rancher, his daughter, and Transley. +"That Pete-horse an' me would jus' see her over the hills a- +whoopin'." + +"I don't think it would be wise to take any extreme measures, at +least, not just yet," said Transley. "It's out of the question to +suppose that Landson has picketed the whole valley with those +stakes. It is now quite clear why we were left in peace yesterday. +He wanted us to get started, and get a few swaths cut, so that he +would know where to drive the stakes to catch us the next morning. +Some of these machines can be repaired at once, and the others +within a day or two. We will just move over a little and start on +new fields. There's pretty good moonlight these nights and we'll +leave a few men out on guard, and perhaps we can catch the enemy at +his little game. Let us get one of Landson's men with the goods on +him." + +Y.D. was somewhat pacified by this suggestion. "You're a practical +devil, Transley," he said, with considerable admiration. "Now, in +a case of this kind I jus' get plumb fightin' mad. I want to bore +somebody. I guess it's the only kind o' procedure that comes easy +to my hand. I guess you're right, but I hate to let anybody have +the laugh on me." Y.D. looked down the valley, shading his eyes +with his hand. "That son-of-a-gun has got a dozen or more stacks +down there. I don't wish nobody any hard luck, but if some +tenderfoot was to drop a cigar--" + +"In that case I suppose you'd pray for a west wind, Dad," Zen +suggested, "but the winds in these valleys, even with your prayers +to direct them, are none too reliable." + +"Everybody to work on fixing up these machines," Transley ordered. +"Linder, make a list of what repairs are needed and Drazk will ride +to town with it at once. Some of them may have to come out from +the city by express. Drazk can get the orders in and a team will +follow to bring out the repairs." + +In a moment Transley's men were busy with wrenches and hammers, +replacing knives and appraising damages. Even in his anger Y.D. +took approving note of the promptness of Transley's decisions and +the zest with which his men carried them into effect. + +"A he-man, that fellow, Zen," he confided to his daughter, "If he'd +blowed into this country thirty years ago, like I did, he'd own it +by this time plumb to the sky-line." + +When the list of repairs was completed Linder handed it to Drazk. + +"Beat it to town on that Pete-horse of yours, George," he said. +"Burn the grass on the road." + +"I bet I'll be ten miles on the road back when I meet my shadow +goin'," said Drazk, making a spectacular leap into his saddle. +"Bye, Y.D!; bye, Zen!" he shouted while he whirled his horse's head +eastward and waved his hand to where they stood. In spite of her +annoyance at him she had to smile and return his salute. + +"Mr. Drazk is irrepressible," she remarked to Transley. + +"And irresponsible," the contractor returned. "I sometimes wonder +why I keep him. In fact, I don't really keep him; he just stays. +Every spring he hunts me up and fastens on. Still, I get a lot of +good service out of him. Praise 'that Pete-horse,' and George +would ride his head off for you. He has a weakness for wanting to +marry every woman he sees, but his infatuations seem harmless +enough." + +"I know something of his weakness," Zen replied. "I have already +been honored with a proposal." + +Transley looked in her face. It was slightly flushed, whether with +the summer sun or with her confession, but it was a wonderfully +good face to look in. + +"Zen," he said, in a low voice that Y.D. and the others might not +hear, "how would you take a serious proposal, made seriously by one +who loves you, and who knows that you are, and always will be, a +queen among women?" + +"If you had been a cow puncher instead of a contractor," she told +him, "I'm sure you would long ago have ended your life in some dash +over a cutbank." + +Meanwhile Drazk pursued his way to town. The trail, after crossing +the ford, turned abruptly to the right from that which led across +country to the North Y.D. For a mile or more it skirted the stream +in a park-like drive through groves of spruce and cottonwood. +Sunshine and the babble of water everywhere filled the air. +Sunshine, too, filled George Drazk's heart. The importance of his +mission was pleasantly heavy upon him. He pictured the impression +he would make in town, galloping in with his horse wet over the +back, and rushing to the implement agency with all the importance of +a courier from Y.D. He would let two of the boys take Pete to the +stable, and then, seated on a mower seat in the shade, he would tell +the story. It would lose nothing in the telling. He would even add +how Zen had thrown a kiss at him in parting. Perhaps he would have +Zen kiss him on the cheek before the whole camp. He turned that +possibility over in his mind, weighing nicely the credulity of his +imaginary audience. . . . At any rate, whether he decided to put +that in the story or not, it was very pleasant to think about. + +Presently the trail turned abruptly up a gully leading into the +hills. A huge cutbank, jutting into the river, barred the way in +front, and its precipitous side, a hundred feet or more in height, +kept continually crumbling and falling into the stream. These +cutbanks are a terror to inexperienced riders. The valleys are +swallowed up in the tawny sameness of the ranges; the vision +catches only the higher levels, and one may gallop to the verge of +a precipice before becoming aware of its existence. It was to this +that Zen had referred in speaking of Transley's precipitateness. + +Drazk followed the gully up into the hills, letting his horse drop +back to a walk in the hard going along the dry bed of a stream +which flowed only in the spring freshets. Pete had to pick his way +over boulders and across stretches of sand and boggy patches of +black mud formed by little springs leaking out under clumps of +willows. Here and there the white ribs of a steer's skeleton +peered through the brush; once or twice an overpowering stench gave +notice of a carcass not wholly decomposed. + +It was not a pleasant environment, but in an hour Drazk was out +again on the brow of the brown hills, where the sunshine flooded +about and a fresh breeze beat up against his face. After all his +winding about in the gully he was not more than a mile from the +cutbank. + +"I reckon I could get a great view from that cutbank of what +Landson is doin'," he suddenly remarked to himself. He took off +his hat and scratched his tousled head in reflection. "Linder said +to beat it," he ruminated, "but I can't get back to-night anyway, +an' it might be worth while to do a little scoutin'. Here goes!" + +He struck a smart gallop to the southward, and brought his horse +up, spectacularly, a yard from the edge of the precipice. The view +which his position commanded was superb. Up the valley lay the +white tents of Transley's outfit, almost hidden in green foliage; +the ford across the river was distinctly visible, and stretching +south from it lay, like a great curving snake, the trail which +wound across the valley and lost itself in the foothills far to the +south; across the western horizon hung the purple curtain of the +mountains, soft and vague in their noonday mists, but touched with +settings of ivory where the snow fields beat back the blazing +sunshine; far down the valley was the gleam of Landson's +whitewashed buildings, and nearer at hand the greenish-brown of the +upland meadows which his haymakers had already cleared of their +crop of prairie wool. This was now arising in enormous stacks; it +must have been three miles to where they lay, but Drazk's keen eyes +could distinguish ten completed stacks and two others in course of +building. He could even see the sweeps hauling the new hay, after +only a few hours of sun-drying, and sliding it up the inclined +platforms which dumped it into the form of stacks. The foothill +rancher makes hay by horse power, and almost without the aid of a +pitch-fork. Even as Drazk watched he saw a load skidded up; saw +its apparent momentary poise in air; saw the well-trained horses +stop and turn and start back to the meadow with their sweep. And +up the valley Transley's outfit was at a standstill. + +Drazk employed his limited but expressive vocabulary. It was +against all human nature to look on such a scene unmoved. He +recalled Y.D.'s half-spoken wish about a random cigar. Then +suddenly George Drazk's mouth dropped open and his eyes rounded +with a great idea. + +Of course, it was against all the rules of the range--it was outlaw +business--but what about driving iron stakes in a hay meadow? +Drazk's philosophy was that the end justifies the means. And if +the end would win the approval of Y.D.--and of Y.D.'s daughter-- +then any means was justified. Had not Linder said, "Burn the grass +on the road?" Drazk knew well enough that Linder's remark was a +figure of speech, but his eccentric mind found no trouble in +converting it into literal instructions. + +Drazk sniffed the air and looked at the sun. A soft breeze was +moving slowly up the valley; the sun was just past noon. There was +every reason to expect that as the lowland prairies grew hot with +the afternoon sunshine a breeze would come down out of the mountains +to occupy the area of great atmospheric expansion. Drazk knew +nothing about the theory of the thing; all that concerned him was +the fact that by mid-afternoon the wind would probably change to the +west. + +Two miles down the valley he found a gully which gave access to the +water's edge. He descended, located a ford, and crossed. There +were cattle-trails through the cottonwoods; he might have followed +them, but he feared the telltale shoe-prints. He elected the more +difficult route down the stream itself. The South Y.D. ran mostly +on a wide gravel bottom; it was possible to pick out a course which +kept Pete in water seldom higher than his knees. An hour of this, +and Drazk, peering through the trees, could see the nearest of +Landson's stacks not half a mile away. The Landson gang were +working farther down the valley, and the stack itself covered +approach from the river. + +Drazk slipped from the saddle, and stole quietly into the open. +The breeze was now coming down the valley. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Transley's men had repaired such machines as they could and +returned to work. The clatter of mowing machines filled the +valley; the horses were speeded up to recover lost time. Transley +and Y.D. rode about, carefully scrutinizing the short grass for +iron stakes, and keeping a general eye on operations. + +Suddenly Transley sat bolt-still on his horse. Then, in a low +voice, + +"Y.D!" he said. + +The rancher turned and followed the line of Transley's vision. The +nearest of Landson's stacks was ablaze, and a great pillar of smoke +was rolling skyward. Even as they watched, the base of the fire +seemed to spread; then, in a moment, tongues of flame were seen +leaping from a stack farther on. + +"Looks like your prayers were answered, Y.D.," said Transley. "I +bet they haven't a plow nearer than the ranch." + +Y.D. seemed fascinated by the sight. He could not take his eyes +off it. He drew a cigar from his pocket and thrust it far into his +mouth, chewing it savagely and rolling it in his lips, but, +according to the law of the hayfield, refraining from lighting it. +At first there was a gleam of vengeance in his eyes, but presently +that gave way to a sort of horror. Every honorable tradition of +the range demanded that he enlist his force against the common +enemy. + +"Hell, Transley!" he ejaculated, "we can't sit and look at that! +Order the men out! What have we got to fight with?" + +For answer Transley swung round in his saddle and struck his palm +into Y.D.'s. + +"Good boy, Y.D!" he said. "I did you an injustice--I mean, about +your prayers being answered. We haven't as much as a plow, either, +but we can gallop down with some barrels in a wagon and put a sack +brigade to work. I'm afraid it won't save Landson's hay, but it +will show where our hearts are." + +Transley and Y.D. galloped off to round up the men, some of whom +had already noticed the fire. Transley despatched four men and two +teams to take barrels, sacks, and horse blankets to the Landson +meadows. The others he sent off at once on horseback to give what +help they could. + +Zen rode up just as they left, and already her fine horse seemed to +realize the tension in the air. His keen, hard-strung muscles +quivered as she brought his gallop to a stop. + +"How did it start, Dad?" she demanded. + +"How do I know?" he returned, shortly. "D'ye think I fired it?" + +"No, but I just asked the question that Landson will ask, so you +better have your answer handy. I'm going to gallop down to their +ranch; perhaps I can help Mrs. Landson." + +"The ranch buildings are safe enough, I think," said Transley. +"The grass there is close cropped, and there is some plowing." + +For a moment the three sat, watching the spread of the flames. By +this time the whole lower valley was blanketed in smoke. Clouds of +blue and mauve and creamy yellow rolled from the meadows and +stacks. The fire was whipping the light breeze of the afternoon to +a gale, and was already running wildly over the flanks of the +foothills. + +"Well, I'm off," said Zen. "Good-bye!" + +"Be careful, Zen!" her father shouted. "Fire is fire." But +already her horse was stretching low and straight in a hard gallop +down the valley. + +"I'll ride in to camp and tell Tompkins to make up a double supply +of sandwiches and coffee," said Transley. "I guess there'll be no +cooking in Landson's outfit this afternoon. After that we can both +run down and lend a hand, if that suits you." + +As they rode to camp together Y.D. drew up close to the contractor. +"Transley," he said, "how do you reckon that fire started?" + +"I don't know," said Transley, "any more than you do." + +"I didn't ask you what you KNEW. I asked you what you reckoned." + +Transley rode for some minutes in silence. Then at last he spoke: + +"A man isn't supposed to reckon in things of this kind. He should +know, or keep his mouth shut. But I allow myself just one guess. +Drazk." + +"Why Drazk?" Y.D. demanded. "He has nothin' to gain, and this +prank may put him in the cooler." + +"Drazk would do anything to be spectacular," Transley explained. +"He probably will boast openly about it. You know, he's trying to +make an impression on Zen." + +"Nonsense!" + +"Of course it's nonsense, but Drazk doesn't see it that way." + +"I'd string him to the nearest cottonwood if I thought he--" + +"Now don't do him an injustice, Y.D. Drazk doesn't realize that +he is no mate for Zen. He doesn't know of any reason why Zen +shouldn't look on him with favor; indeed, with pride. It's +ridiculous, I know, but Drazk is built that way." + +"Then I'll change his style of architecture the first time I run +into him," said Y.D. savagely. "Zen is too young to think of such +a thing, anyway." + +"She will always be too young to think of such a thing, so far as +Drazk or his type is concerned," Transley returned. "But suppose-- +Y.D., to be quite frank, suppose _I_ suggested--" + +"Transley, you work quick," said Y.D. "I admit I like a quick +worker. But just now we have a fire on our hands." + +By this time they had reached the camp. Transley gave his +instructions in a few words, and then turned to ride down to +Landson's. They had gone only a few hundred yards when Y.D. pulled +his horse to a stop. + +"Transley!" he exclaimed, and his voice was shaking. "What do you +smell?" + +The contractor drew up and sniffed the air. When he turned to Y.D. +his face was white. + +"Smoke, Y.D!" he gasped. "The wind has changed!" + +It was true. Already low clouds of smoke were drifting overhead +like a broken veil. The erratic foothill wind, which a few minutes +before had been coming down the valley, was now blowing back up +again. Even while they took in the situation they could feel the +hot breath of the distant fire borne against their faces. + +"Well, it's up to us," said Transley tersely. "We'll make a fight +of it. Got any speed in that nag of yours?" Without waiting for +an answer he put spurs to his horse and set forward on a wild +gallop into the smoke. + +A mile down the line he found that Linder had already gathered his +forces and laid out a plan of defence. The valley, from the South +Y.D. to the hills, was about four miles wide, and up the full +breadth of it was now coming the fire from Landson's fields. There +was no natural fighting line; Linder had not so much as a buffalo +path to work against. But he was already starting back-fires at +intervals of fifty yards, allotting three men to each fire. A +back-fire is a fire started for the purpose of stopping another. +Usually a road, or a plowed strip, or even a cattle path, is used +for a base. On the windward side of this base the back-fire is +started and allowed to eat its way back against the wind until it +meets the main fire which is rushing forward with the wind, and +chokes it out for lack of fuel. A few men, stationed along a +furrow or a trail, can keep the small back-fire from jumping it, +although they would be powerless to check the momentum of the main +fire. + +This was Linder's position, except that he had no furrow to work +against. All he could do was tell off men with sacks and horse +blankets soaked in the barrels of water to hold the back-fire in +check as best they could. So far they were succeeding. As soon as +the fire had burned a few feet the forward side of it was pounded +out with wet sacks. It didn't matter about the other side. It +could be allowed to eat back as far as it liked; the farther the +better. + +"Good boy, Lin!" Transley shouted, as he drew up and surveyed +operations. "She played us a dirty trick, didn't she?" + +Linder looked up, red-eyed and coughing. "We can hold it here," he +said, "but we can never cross the valley. The fire will be on us +before we have burned a mile. It will beat around our south flank +and lick up everything!" + +Transley jumped from his horse. He seized Linder in his arms and +literally threw him into the saddle. "You're played, boy!" he +shouted in his foreman's ear. "Ride down to the river and get into +the water, and stay there until you know we can win!" + +Then Transley threw himself into the fight. As the men said +afterwards, Linder fought like a wildcat, but Transley fought like +a den of lions. When the wagon galloped up from the river with +barrels of water Transley seized a barrel at the end and set it +bodily on the ground. He sprang into the wagon, shouting commands +to horses and men. A hundred yards they galloped along the +fighting front; then Transley sprang out and set another barrel on +the ground. In this way, instead of having the men all coming to +the wagon to wet their sacks, he distributed water along the line. +Then they turned back, picked up the empty barrels, and galloped to +the river for a fresh supply. + +Soon they had the first mile secure. The backfires had all met; +the forward line of flames had all been pounded out; the rear line +had burned back until there was no danger of it jumping the burned +space. Then Transley picked up his kit and rushed it on to a new +front farther south. At intervals of a hundred yards he started +fires, holding them in check and beating out the western edge as +before. + +But his difficulties were increasing. He was farther from the +river. It took longer to get water. One of the barrels fell off +and collapsed. Some of the men were playing out. The horses were +wild with excitement and terror. The smoke was growing denser and +hotter. Men were coughing and gasping through dry, seared lips. + +"You can't hold it, Transley; you can't hold it!" said one of the +men. + +Transley hit him from the shoulder. He crumpled up and collapsed. + +A mile and a half had been made safe, but the smoke was +suffocatingly thick and the roar of the oncoming fire rose above +the shouts of the fighters. Up galloped the water wagon; made a +sharp lurch and turn, and a front wheel collapsed with the shock. +The wagon went down at one corner and the barrels were dumped on +the ground. + +The men looked at Transley. For one moment he surveyed the +situation. + +"Is there a chain?" he demanded. There was. + +"Hitch on to the tire of this broken wheel. Some of you men yank +the hub out of it. Others pull grass. Pull, like hell was after +you!" + +They pulled. In a minute or two Transley had the rim of the wheel +flat on the ground, with a team hitched to it and a little pile of +dry grass inside. Then he set fire to the little pile of grass and +started the team slowly along the battle front. As they moved the +burning grass in the rim set fire to the grass on the prairie +underneath; the rim partly rubbed it out again as it came over, and +the men were able to keep what remained in check, but as he +lengthened his line Transley had to leave more and more men to beat +out the fire, and had fewer to pull grass. The sacks were too wet +to burn; he had to have grass to feed his moving fire-spreader. + +At length he had only a teamster and himself, and his fire was +going out. Transley whipped off his shirt, rolled it into a little +heap, set fire to it, and ran along beside the rim, firing the +little moving circle of grass inside. + +It was the teamster, looking back, who saw Transley fall. He had +to drop the lines to run to his assistance, and the horses, +terrified by smoke and fire and the excitement of the fight, +immediately bolted. The teamster took Transley in his arms and +half carried, half dragged him into the safe area behind the +backfires. And a few minutes later the main fire, checked on its +front, swept by on the flank and raced on up through the valley. + +In riding down to the assistance of Mrs. Landson Zen found herself +suddenly caught in an eddy of smoke. She did not realize at the +moment that the wind had turned; she thought she must have ridden +into the fire area. To avoid the possibility of being cut off by +the fire, and also for better air, she turned her horse to the +river. All through the valley were billows of smoke, with here and +there a reddish-yellow glare marking the more vicious sections of +flame. Vaguely, at times, she thought she caught the shouting of +men, but all the heavens seemed full of roaring. + +When Zen reached the water the smoke was hanging low on it, and she +drove her horse well in. Then she swung down the stream, believing +that by making a detour in this way she could pass the wedge of +fire that had interrupted her and get back on to the trail leading +to Landson's. She was coughing with the smoke, but rode on in the +confidence that presently it would lift. + +It did. A whip of wind raised it like a strong arm throwing off a +blanket. She sat up and breathed freely. The hot sun shone +through rifts in the canopy of smoke; the blue sky looked down +serene and unmoved by this outburst of the elements. Then as Zen +brought her eyes back to the water she saw a man on horseback not +forty yards ahead. Her first thought was that it must be one of +the fire fighters, driven like herself to safety, but a second +glance revealed George Drazk. For a moment she had an impulse to +wheel and ride out, but even as she smothered that impulse a tinge +of color rose in her cheeks that she should for a moment have +entertained it. To let George Drazk think she was afraid of him +would be utmost humiliation. + +She continued straight down the stream, but he had already seen her +and was headed her way. In the excitement of what he had just done +Drazk was less responsible than usual. + +"Hello, Zen!" he said. "Mighty decent of you to ride down an' meet +me like this. Mighty decent, Zen!" + +"I didn't ride down to meet you, Drazk, and you know it. Keep out +of the way or I'll use a whip on you!" + +"Oh, how haughty! Y.D. all over! Never mind, dear, I like you all +the better for that. Who wants a tame horse? An' as for comin' +down to meet me, what's the odds, so long as we've met?" + +He had turned his horse and blocked the way in front of her. When +Zen's horse came within reach Drazk caught him by the bridle. + +"Will you let go?" the girl said, speaking as calmly as she could, +but in a white passion. "Will you let go of that bridle, or shall +I make you?" + +He looked her full in the face. "Gad, but you're a stunner!" he +exclaimed. "I'm glad we met--here." + +She brought her whip with a biting cut around the wrist that held +her bridle. Drazk winced, but did not let go. + +"Jus' for that, young Y.D.," he hissed, "jus' for that we drop all +formalities, so to speak." + +With a dexterous spurring he brought his horse alongside and threw +an arm about Zen before she could beat him off. She used her whip +at short range on his face, but had not arm-room in which to land a +blow. They were stirrup-deep in water, and as they struggled the +horses edged in deeper still. Finding that she could not beat +Drazk off Zen clutched her saddle and drove the spurs into her +horse. At this unaccustomed treatment he plunged wildly forward, +but Drazk's grip on her was too strong to be broken. The manoeuvre +had, however, the effect of unhorsing Drazk. He fell in the water, +but kept his grip on Zen. With his free hand he still had the +reins of his own horse, and he managed also to get hold of hers. +Although her horse was plunging and jumping, Drazk's strong grip on +his rein kept him from breaking away. + +"You fight well, Zen, damn you--you fight well," he cried. "So you +might. You played with me--you made a fool of me. We'll see who's +the fool in the end." With a mighty wrench he tore her from her +saddle and she found herself struggling with him in the water. + +"If I put you under for a minute I guess you'll be good," he +threatened. "I'll half drown you, Zen, if I have to." + +"Go ahead," she challenged. "I'll drown myself, if I have to." + +"Not just yet, Zen; not just yet. Afterwards you can do as you +like." + +In their struggles they had been getting gradually into deeper +water. At this moment they found their feet carried free, and the +horses began to swim for the shore. Drazk held to both reins with +one hand, still clutching his victim with the other. More than +once they went under water together and came up half choking. + +Zen was not a good swimmer, but she would gladly have broken away +and taken chances with the current. Once on land she would be at +his mercy. She was using her head frantically, but could think of +no device to foil him. It was not her practice to carry weapons; +her whip had already gone down the stream. Presently she saw a +long leather thong floating out from the saddle of Drazk's horse. +It was no larger than a whiplash; apparently it was a spare lace +which Drazk carried, and which had worked loose in the struggle. +It was floating close to Drazk. + +"Don't let me sink, George!" she cried frantically, in sudden +fright. "Save me! I won't fight any more." + +"That's better," he said, drawing her up to him. "I knew you'd +come to your senses." + +Her hand reached the lash. With a quick motion of the arm, such as +is given in throwing a rope, she had looped it once around his +neck. Then, pulling the lash violently, she fought herself out of +his grip. He clutched at her wildly, but could reach only some +stray locks of her brown hair which had broken loose and were +floating on the water. + +She saw his eyes grow round and big and horrified; saw his mouth +open and refuse to close; heard strange little gurgles and +chokings. But she did not let go. + +"When you insulted me this morning I promised to settle with you; I +did not expect to have the chance so soon." + +His head had gone under water. . . . Suddenly she realized that he +was drowning. She let go of the thong, clutched her horse's tail, +and was pulled quickly ashore. + +Sitting on the gravel, she tried to think. Drazk had disappeared; +his horse had landed somewhat farther down. . . . Doubtless Drazk +had drowned. Yes, that would be the explanation. Why change it? + +Zen turned it over in her mind. Why make any explanations? It +would be a good thing to forget. She could not have done otherwise +under the circumstances; no jury would expect her to do otherwise. +But why trouble a jury about it? + +"He got what was coming to him," she said to herself presently. +She admitted no regret. On the contrary, her inborn self-confidence, +her assurance that she could take care of herself under any +circumstances, seemed to be strengthened by the experience. + +She got up, drew her hair into some kind of shape, and scrambled a +little way up the steep bank. Clouds of smoke were rolling up the +valley. She did not grasp the significance of the fact at the +first glance, but in a moment it impacted home to her. The wind +had changed! Her help now would be needed, not by Mrs. Landson, +but probably at their own camp. She sprang on her horse, re- +crossed the stream, and set out on a gallop for the camp. On the +way she had to ride through one thin line of fire, which she +accomplished successfully. Through the smoke she could dimly see +Transley's gang fighting the back-fires. She knew that was in good +hands, and hastened on to the camp. Zen had had prairie experience +enough to know that in hours like this there is almost sure to be +something or somebody, in vital need, overlooked. + +She galloped into the camp and found only Tompkins there. He had +already run a little back-fire to protect the tents and the chuck- +wagon. + +"How goes it, Tompkins?" she cried, bursting upon him like a +courier from battle. + +"All set here, Ma'am," he answered. "All set an' safe. But +they'll never hold the main fire; it'll go up the valley hell- +scootin',--beggin' your pardon, Ma'am." + +"Anyone live up the valley?" + +"There is. There's the Lints--squatters about six miles up--it was +from them I got the cream an' fresh eggs you was good enough to +notice, Ma'am. An' there's no men folks about; jus' Mrs. Lint an' +a young herd of little Lints; least, that's all was there las' +night." + +"I must go up," said Zen, with instant decision. "I can get there +before the fire, and as the Lints are evidently farmers there will +be some plowed land, or at least a plow with which to run a furrow +so that we can start a back-fire. Direct me." + +Tompkins directed her as to the way, and, leaving a word of +explanation to be passed on to her father, she was off. A half +hour's hard riding brought her to Lint's, but she found that this +careful settler had made full provision against such a contingency +as was now come about. The farm buildings, implements, stables, +everything was surrounded, not by a fire-guard, but by a broad +plowed field. Mrs. Lint, however, was little less thankful for +Zen's interest than she would have been had their little steading +been in danger. She pressed Zen to wait and have at least a cup +of tea, and the girl, knowing that she could be of little or no +service down the valley, allowed herself to be persuaded. In this +little harbor of quiet her mind began to arrange the day's events. +The tragic happening at the river was as yet too recent to appear +real; had it not been for the touch of her wet clothing Zen could +have thought that all an unhappy dream of days ago. She reflected +that neither Tompkins nor Mrs. Lint had commented upon her +appearance. The hot sun had soon dried her outer apparel, and her +general dishevelled condition was not remarkable on such a day as +this. + +The wind had gone down as the afternoon waned, and the fire was +working up the valley leisurely when Zen set out on her return +trip. A couple of miles from the Lint homestead she met its +advance guard. It was evening now; the sun shone dull red through +the banked clouds of smoke resting against the mountains to the +west; the flames danced and flickered, advanced and receded, sprang +up and died down again, along mile after mile of front. It was a +beautiful thing to behold, and Zen drew her horse to a stop on a +hill-top to take in the grandeur of the scene. Near at hand +frolicking flames were working about the base of the hill, and far +down the valley and over the foothills the flanks of the fire +stretched like lines of impish infantry in single file. + +Suddenly she heard the sound of hoofs, and a rider drew up at her +side. She supposed him one of Transley's men, but could not recall +having seen him in the camp. He sat his horse with an ease and +grace that her eye was quick to appraise; he removed his broad felt +hat before he spoke; and he did not call her "ma'am." + +"Pardon me--I believe I am speaking to Y.D.'s daughter?" he asked, +and before waiting for a reply hastened to introduce himself. "My +name is Dennison Grant, foreman on the Landson ranch." + +"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I thought--I thought you were one of Mr. +Transley's men." Then, with a quick sense of the barrier between +them, she added, "I hope you don't think that I--that we--had +anything to do with this?" She indicated the ruined valley with +her hand. + +"No more than I had to do with those coward's stakes," he answered. +"Neither of us understand just now, but can we take that much for +granted?" + +There was something about him that rather appealed to her. "I +think we can," she said, simply. + +For a moment they watched the kaleidoscopic scene below them. "It +may help you to understand," she continued, "if I say that I was +riding down to see if I could be of some use to Mrs. Landson when +the wind changed, and I saw I would be more likely to be needed +here." + +"And it may help you to understand," he said, "if I say that as +soon as immediate danger to the Landson ranch was over I rode up to +Transley's camp. Only the cook was there, and he told me of your +having set out to help Mrs. Lint, so I followed up. Fortunately +the fire has lost its punch; it will probably go out through the +night." + +There was a short silence, in which she began to realize her +peculiar position. This man was the rival of Transley and Linder +in the business of hay-cutting in the valley. He was the foreman +of the Landson crowd--Landson, against whom her father had been +voicing something very near to murder threats not many hours ago. +Had she met him before the fire she would have spurned and despised +him, but nothing unites the factions of man like a fight against a +common elemental enemy. Besides, there was the question, How DID +the fire start? That was a question which every Landson man would +be asking. Grant had been generous about it; he had asked her to +be equally generous about the episode of the stakes. . . . And +there was something about the man that appealed to her. She had +never felt that way about Transley or Linder. She had been +interested in them; amused, perhaps; out for an adventure, perhaps; +but this man-- Nonsense! It was the environment--the romantic +setting. As for Drazk-- A quick sense of horror caught her as the +memory of his choking face protruded into her consciousness. . . . + +"Well, suppose we ride home," he suggested. "By Jove! The fire +has worked around us." + +It was true. The hill on which they stood was now entirely +surrounded by a ring of fire, eating slowly up the side. The +warmth of its breath already pressed against their faces; the +funnel effect created by the circle of fire was whipping up a +stronger draught. The smoke seemed to be gathering to a centre +above them. + +He swung up close to her. "Will your horse face it?" he asked. +"If not, we'd better blindfold him." + +"I'll try him," she said. "He was all right this afternoon, but he +was reckless then with a hard gallop." + +Zen's horse trotted forward at her urging to within a dozen yards +of the circle of fire. Then he stopped, snorting and shivering. +She rode back up the hill. + +"Better blindfold him," Grant advised, pulling off his leather +coat. "A sleeve of my shirt should be about right. Will you cut +it off?" + +She protested. + +"There's no time to lose," he reminded her, as he placed his knife +in her hand. "My horse will go through it all right." + +So urged she deftly cut off his sleeve above the elbow and drew it +through the bridle of her horse across his eyes. + +"Now keep your head down close to his neck. You'll go through all +right. Give him the spurs, and good luck!" he shouted. + +She was already careering down the hillside. A few paces from the +fire the horse plunged into a badger hole and fell headlong. She +went over his head, down, with a terrific shock, almost in the very +teeth of the fire. + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +When Zen came to herself it was with a sense of a strange swimming +in her head. Gradually it resolved itself into a sound of water +about her head; a splashing, fighting water; two heads in the +water; two heads in the water; a lash floating in the water-- + +"Oh!" She was sure she felt water on her face. . . . + +"Where am I?" + +"You're all right--you'll be all right in a little while." + +"But where am I? What has happened?" She tried to sit up. All +was dark. "Where am I?" she demanded. + +"Don't be alarmed, Zen--I think your name is Zen," she heard a +man's voice saying. "You've been hurt, but you'll be all right +presently." + +Then the curtain lifted. "You are Dennison Grant," she said. "I +remember you now. But what has happened? Why am I here--with +you?" + +"Well, so far, you've been enjoying about three hours' +unconsciousness," he told her. "At a distance which seems about a +mile from here--although it may be less--is a little pond. I've +carried water in the sleeve of my coat--fortunately it is leather-- +and poured it somewhat generously upon your brow. And at last I've +been rewarded by a conscious word." + +She tried to sit up, but desisted when a sudden twitch of pain held +her fast. + +"Let me help you," he said, gently. "We have camped, as you may +notice, on a big, flat rock. I found it not far from the scene of +the accident, so I carried you over to it. It is drier than the +earth, and, for the forepart of the night at least, will be +warmer." With a strong arm about her shoulders he drew her into a +sitting posture. + +Her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness. "What's wrong +with my foot?" she demanded. "My boot's off." + +"I'm afraid you turned your ankle getting free from your stirrup," +he explained. "I had to do a little surgery. I could find nothing +broken. It will be painful, but I fear there is nothing to do but +bear it." + +She reached down and felt her foot. It was neatly bandaged with +cloth very much like that which she had used to blindfold Quiver. +It was easy to surmise where it came from. Evidently her protector +had stopped at nothing. + +"Well, are we to stay here permanently?" she asked, presently. + +"Only for the night," he told her. "If we're lucky, not that long. +Search parties will be hunting for you, and they will doubtless +ride this way. Both of our horses bolted in the fire--" + +"Oh yes, the fire! Tell me what happened." + +He hesitated. + +"I remember riding into the fire," she continued, "and then next +thing I was on this rock. How did it all happen?" + +"Your horse fell," he explained, "just as you reached the fire, and +threw you, pretty heavily, to the ground. I was behind, so I +dismounted and dragged you through." + +"Oh!" She felt her face. "But I am not even singed!" she +exclaimed. + +It was plain that he was holding something back. She turned and +laid her fingers on his arm. "Tell me how you did it," she +pressed. + +The darkness hid his modest confusion. "It was really nothing," he +stammered. "You see, I had a leather coat, and I just threw it +over your head--and mine--and dragged you out." + +She was silent for a moment while the meaning of his words came +home to her. Then she placed her hand frankly in his. + +"Thank you," she said, and even in the darkness she knew that their +eyes had met. + +"You are very resourceful," she continued presently. "Must we sit +here all night?" + +"I can think of no alternative," he confessed. "If we had fire- +arms we could shoot a signal, or if there were grass about we could +start a fire, although it probably would not be noticed with so +many glows on the horizon to-night." He stopped to look about. +Dull splashes of red in the sky pointed out remnants of the day's +conflagration still eating their way through the foothills. The +air was full of the pungent but not unpleasant smell of burnt +grass. + +"A pretty hard night to send a signal," he said, "but they're +almost sure to ride this way." + +She wondered why he did not offer to walk to the camp for help; it +could not be more than four or five miles. Suddenly she thought +she understood. + +"I am not afraid to stay here alone," she said, with a little +laugh. It was the first time Grant had heard her laugh, and he +thought it very musical indeed. "I've slept out many a night, and +you would be back within a couple of hours." + +"I'm quite sure you're not afraid," he agreed, "but, you see, I am. +You got quite a tap on the head, and for some time before you came +to you were talking--rather foolishly. Now if I should leave you +it is not only possible, but quite probable, that you would lapse +again into unconsciousness. . . . I really think you'll have to +put up with me here." + +"Oh, I wasn't thinking of that! . . . Did I--did I talk--foolishly?" + +"Rather. Seemed to think you were swimming--or fighting--I +couldn't be sure which. Sometimes you seemed to be doing both." + +"Oh!" With a cold chill the events of the day came back upon her. +That struggle in the water; it came to her now like a bad dream out +of the long, long past. How much had she said? How much would she +have given to know what she said? She felt herself recounting +events. . . . + +Presently she pulled herself up with a start. She must not let him +think her moody. + +"Well, if we MUST enjoy each other's company, we may as well do so +companionably," she said, with an effort at gaiety. "Let us talk. +Tell me about yourself." + +"First things first," he parried. + +"Oh, I've nothing to tell. My life has been very unromantic. A +few years at school, and the rest of it on the range. A very +every-day kind of existence." + +"I think it's the 'every-day kind of existence' that IS romantic," +he returned. "It is a great mistake to think of romance as +belonging to other times and other places. Even the most +commonplace person has experienced romance enough for a dozen +books. Quite possibly he has not recognized the romance, but it +was there. The trouble is that with our limited sense of humor, +what we think of as romance in other people's lives becomes tragedy +in our own." + +How much DID he know? . . . "Yes," she said, "I suppose that is +so." + +"I know it is so," he went on. "If we could read the thoughts-- +know the experiences--of those nearest to us, we would never need +to look out of our own circles for either romance or tragedy. But +it is as well that we can't. Take the experience of to-day, for +example. I admit it has not been a commonplace day, and yet it has +not been altogether extraordinary. Think of the experiences we +have been through just this day, and how, if they were presented in +fiction they would be romantic, almost unbelievable. And here we +are at the close, sitting on a rock, matter-of-fact people in a +matter-of-fact world, accepting everything as commonplace and +unexceptional." + +"Not quite that," she said daringly. "I see that you are neither +commonplace nor unexceptional." She spoke with sudden impulse out +of the depth of her sincerity. She had not met a man like this +before. In her mind she fixed him in contrast with Transley, the +self-confident and aggressive, and Linder, the shy and unassertive. +None of those adjectives seemed to fit this new acquaintance. +Nevertheless, he suffered nothing by the contrast. + +"If I had been bright enough I would have said that first," he +apologized, "but I got rather carried away in one of my pet +theories about romance. Now my life, I suppose, to many people +would seem quite tame and unromantic, but to me it has been a +delightful succession of somewhat placid adventures. It began in a +very orthodox way, in a very orthodox family. My father, under the +guidance, no doubt, of whatever star governs such lucky affairs, +became possessed of a piece of land. In doing so he contributed to +society no service whatever, so far as I have been able to ascertain. +But it so fell about that society, in considerable numbers, wanted +his land to live on, so society made of my father a wealthy man, and +gave him power over many people. Could anything be more romantic +than that? Could the fairy tales of your childhood surpass it for +benevolent irresponsibility?" + +"My father has also become wealthy," she said, "although I never +thought of it in that way." + +"Yes, but in exchange for his wealth your father has given service +to society; supplied many thousands of steers for hungry people to +eat. That's a different story, but not less romantic. + +"Well, to proceed. I was brought up to fit my station in life, +whatever that means. There were just two boys of us, and I was the +elder. My father had become a broker. I believe he had become +quite a successful broker, using the word in its ordinary sense, +which denotes the making of money. You see, he already had too +much money, so it was very easy for him to make more. He wanted me +to go into the office with him, but some way I didn't fit in. I've +no doubt there was lots of romance there, too, but I was of the +wrong nature; I simply couldn't get enthusiastic over it. As we +already had more money than we could possibly spend on things that +were good for us, I failed to see the point in sitting up nights to +increase it. Being of a frank disposition I confided in my father +that I felt I was wasting my time in a broker's office. He, being +of an equally frank disposition, confided in me that he entertained +the same opinion. + +"Then I delivered myself of some of my pet theories about wealth. +I told him that I didn't believe that any man had a right to money +unless he earned it in return for service given to society, and I +said that as society had to supply the money, society should +determine the amount. I confessed that I was a little hazy about +how that was to be carried out, but I insisted that the principle +was right, and, that being so, the working of it out was only a +matter of detail. I realize now that this was all fanatical heresy +to my father; I remember the pained look that came into his eyes. +I thought at the time that it was anger, but I know now that it was +grief--grief and humiliation that a son of his should entertain +such wild and unbalanced ideas. + +"Well, there was more talk, and the upshot of it was that I got +out, accompanied by an assurance from my father that I would never +be burdened with any of the family ducats. Roy--my younger +brother--succeeded to the worries of wealth, and I came to the +ranges where, no doubt to the deep chagrin of my father, I have +been able to make a living, and have, incidentally, been profoundly +happy. I'll take a wager that to-day I look ten years younger than +Roy, that I can lick him with one hand, that I have more real +friends than he has, and that I'm getting more out of life than he +is. I'm a man of whims. When they beckon I follow." + +Grant had been talking intensely. He paused now, feeling that his +enthusiasm had carried him into rather fuller confidences than he +had intended. + +"I'm sorry I bored you with that harangue," he said contritely. +"You couldn't possibly be interested in it." + +"On the contrary, I am very much interested in it," she protested. +"It seems so much finer for a man to make his own way, rather than +be lifted up by someone else. I am sure you are already doing well +in the West. Some day you will go back to your father with more +money than he has." + +Grant uttered an amused little laugh. + +"I was afraid you would say that," he answered. "You see, you +don't understand me, either. I don't want to make money. Can you +understand that?" + +"Don't want to make money? Why not?" + +"Why should I?" + +"Well, everybody does. Money is power--it is a mark of success. +It would open up a wider life for you. It would bring you into new +circles. Some day you will want to marry and settle down, and +money would enable you to meet the kind of women--" + +She stopped, confused. She had plunged farther than she had +intended. + +"You're all wrong," he said amusedly. It did not even occur to Zen +that he was contradicting her. She had not been accustomed to +being contradicted, but then, neither had she been accustomed to +men like Dennison Grant, nor to conversations such as had +developed. She was too interested to be annoyed. + +"You're all wrong, Miss--?" + +"I don't wonder that you can't fill in my name," she said. "Nobody +knows Dad except as Y.D. But I heard you call me Zen--" + +"That was when you were coming out of your unconsciousness. I +apologize for the liberty taken. I thought it might recall you--" + +"Well, I'm still coming out," she interrupted. "I am beginning to +feel that I have been unconscious for a very long time indeed. Let +me hear why you don't want money." + +Grant was aware of a pleasant glow excited by her frank interest. +She was altogether a desirable girl. + +"I have observed," he said, "that poor people worry over what they +haven't got, and rich people worry over what they have. It is my +disposition not to worry over anything. You said that money is +power. That is one of its deceits. It offers a man power, but in +reality it makes him its slave. It enchains him for life; I have +seen it in too many cases--I am not mistaken. As for opening up a +wider life, what wider life could there be than this which I--which +you and I--are living?" + +She wondered why he had said "you and I." Evidently he was wondering +too, for he fell into reflection. She changed her position to ease +the dull pain in her ankle, which his talk had almost driven from +her mind. The rock had a perpendicular edge, so she let her feet +hang over, resting the injured one upon the other. He was sitting in +a similar position. The silence of the night had gathered about +them, broken occasionally by the yapping of coyotes far down the +valley. Segments of dull light fringed the horizon; the breeze was +again blowing from the west, mild and balmy. Presently one of the +segments of light grew and grew. It was as though it were rushing +up the valley. They watched it, fascinated; then burst into +laughter as the orb of the moon became recognizable. . . . There +was something very companionable about watching the moon rise, as +they did. + +"The greatest wealth in the world," he said at length, as though +his thoughts had been far afield, searching, perchance, the mazy +corridors of Truth for this atom of wisdom; "the greatest wealth in +the world is to be able to do something useful. That is the only +wealth which will not be disturbed in the coming reorganization of +society." + +Zen did not reply. For the first time in her life she stood +convicted, before her own mind, of a very profound ignorance. +Dennison Grant had been drawing back the curtain of a world of the +existence of which she had never known. He had talked to her about +"the coming reorganization of society"? What did it mean? She was +at home in discussions of herds or horses; she was at home with the +duties of kitchen or reception-room; she was at home with her +father or Transley or Linder or Drazk or Tompkins the cook, but +Dennison Grant in an hour had carried her into a far country, where +she would be hopelessly lost but for his guidance. . . . Yet it +seemed a good and interesting country. She wanted to enter in--to +know it better. + +"Tell me about the coming reorganization of society," she said. + +"That is an all-night order," he returned. "Besides, I can't tell +you all, because I don't know all. I know only very, very little. +I see my little gleam of light and keep my eye close upon it. But +you must know that society is always in a state of reorganization. +Nothing continues as it was. Those who dismiss a problem glibly by +saying it has always been so and always will be so don't read +history and don't understand human nature." + +He turned toward her as interest in his theme developed. The +moonlight was now pouring upon them; her face was beautiful and +fine as marble in its soft rays. For a moment he hesitated, +overwhelmed by a sudden realization of her attractiveness. He had +just been saying that the law of nature was the law of change, and +nature itself stood up to refute him. + +He brought himself back to earth. "I was saying that everything +changes," he continued. "Look at our economic system, for +instance. Not so many centuries ago the man who got the most +wealth was the man with the biggest muscle and the toughest skin. +He wielded a stout club, and what he wanted, he took. His system +of operation was simple and direct. You have money, you have +cattle, you have a wife--I'm speaking of the times that were. I am +stronger than you. I take them. Simplicity itself!" + +"But very unjust," she protested. + +"Our sense of justice is due to our education," he continued. "If +we are taught to believe that a certain thing is just, we believe +it is just. I am convinced that there is no sense of justice +inherent in humanity; whatever sense we have is the result of +education, and the kind of justice we believe in is the kind of +justice to which we are educated. For example, the justice of the +plains is not the justice of the cities; the justice of the +vigilance committee is not the justice of judge and jury. Now to +get back to our subject. When Baron Battle Ax, back in the fifth +or sixth century, knocked all his rivals on the head and took their +wealth away from them, I suppose there was here and there an +advanced thinker who said the thing was unjust, but I am quite sure +the great majority of people said things had always been that way +and always would be that way. But the little minority of thinkers +gradually grew in strength. The Truth was with them. It is worthy +of notice that the advance guard of Truth always travels with +minorities. And the day came that society organized itself to say +that the man who uses physical force to take wealth from another is +an enemy of society and must not be allowed at large. + +"But we have passed largely out of the era of physical force. To- +day, an engineer presses a button and releases more physical force +than could be commanded by all the armies of Rome. Brain power is +to-day the dominant power. And just as physical force was once +used to take wealth without earning it, so is brain force now used +to take wealth without earning it. And just as the masses in the +days of Battle Ax said things had always been that way and always +would be that way, just so do the masses in these days of brain +supremacy say things have always been that way and always will be +that way. But just as there was a minority with an advanced vision +of Truth in those days, so is there a minority with an advanced +vision of Truth in these days. You may be absolutely sure that, +just as society found a way to deal with muscle brigands, so also +it will find a way to deal with brain brigands. I confess I don't +see how the details are to be worked out, but there must be a plan +under which the value of the services rendered to society by every +man and every woman will be determined, and they will be rewarded +according to the services rendered." + +"Is that Socialism?" she ventured. + +"I don't know. I don't think so. Certainly it does not contemplate +an equal distribution of the world's wealth. Some men are a menace +to themselves and society when they have a hundred dollars. Others +can be trusted with a hundred million. All men have not been +equally gifted by nature--we know that. We can't make them equal. +But surely we can prevent the gifted ones from preying upon those +who are not gifted. That is what the coming reorganization of +society will aim to do." + +"It is very interesting," she said. "And very deep. I have never +heard it discussed before. Why don't people think about these +things more?" + +"I don't know," he answered, "but I suppose it is because they are +too busy in the fight. When a self was dodging Battle Ax he hadn't +much time to think about evolving a Magna Charta. But most of all +I suppose it is just natural laziness. People refuse to think. It +calls for effort. Most people would find it easier to pitch a load +of hay than to think of a new thought." + +The moon was now well up; the smoke clouds had been scattered by +the breeze; the sky was studded with diamonds. Zen had a feeling +of being very happy. True, a certain haunting spectre at times +would break into her consciousness, but in the companionship of +such a man as Grant she could easily beat it off. She studied the +face in the moon, and invited her soul. She was living through a +new experience--an experience she could not understand. In spite +of the discomfort of her injuries, in spite of the events of the +day, she was very, very happy. . . . + +If only that horrid memory of Drazk would not keep tormenting her! +She began to have some glimpse of what remorse must mean. She did +not blame herself; she could not have done otherwise; and yet--it +was horrible to think about, and it would not stay away. She felt +a tremendous desire to tell Grant all about it. . . . She wondered +how much he knew. He must have discovered that her clothing had +been wet. + +She shivered slightly. + +"You're cold," he said, as he placed his arm about her, and there +was something very far removed from political economy in the timbre +of his voice. + +"I'm a little chilly," she admitted. "I had to swim my horse +across the river to-day--he got into a deep spot--and I got wet." +She congratulated herself that she had made a very clever +explanation. + +He put his coat about her shoulders and drew it tight. Then he sat +beside her in silence. There were many things he could have said, +but this seemed to be neither the time nor the place. Grant was +not Transley. He had for this girl a delicate consideration which +Transley's nature could never know. Grant was a thinker--Transley +a doer. Grant knew that the charm which enveloped him in this +girl's presence was the perfectly natural product of a set of +conditions. He was worldly-wise enough to suspect that Zen also +felt that charm. It was as natural as the bursting of a seed in +moist soil; as natural as the unfolding of a rose in warm air. . . . + +Presently he felt her head rest against his shoulder. He looked +down upon her in awed delight. Her eyes had closed; her lips were +smiling faintly; her figure had relaxed. He could feel her warm +breath upon his face. He could have touched her lips with his. + +Slowly the moon traced its long arc in the heavens. + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Just as the first flush of dawn mellowed the East Grant heard the +pounding of horses' feet and the sound of voices borne across the +valley. They rapidly approached; he could tell by the hard +pounding of the hoofs that they were on a trail which he took to be +the one he had followed before he met Zen. It passed possibly a +hundred yards to the left. He must in some way make his presence +known. + +The girl had slept soundly, almost without stirring. Now he must +wake her. He shook her gently, and called her name; her eyes +opened; he could see them, strange and wondering, in the thin grey +light. Then, with a sudden start, she was quite awake. + +"I have been sleeping!" she exclaimed, reproachfully. "You let me +sleep!" + +"No use of two watching the moon," he returned, lightly. + +"But you shouldn't have let me sleep," she reprimanded. "Besides, +you had to stay awake. You have had no sleep at all!" + +There was a sympathy in her voice very pleasant to the ear. But +Grant could not continue so delightful an indulgence. + +"I had to wake you," he explained. "There are several people +riding up the valley; undoubtedly a search party. I must attract +their attention." + +They listened, and could now hear the hoof-beats close at hand. +Grant called; not a loud shout; it seemed little more than his +speaking voice, but instantly there was silence, save for the echo +of the sound rolling down the valley. Then a voice answered, and +Grant gave a word or two of directions. In a minute or two several +horsemen loomed up through the vague light. + +"Here we are," said Zen, as she distinguished her father. "Gone +lame on the off foot and held up for repairs." + +Y.D. swung down from his saddle. "Are you all right, Zen?" he +cried, as he advanced with outstretched arms. There was an +eagerness and a relief in his voice which would have surprised many +who knew Y.D. only as a shrewd cattleman. + +Zen accepted and returned his embrace, with a word of assurance +that she was really nothing the worse. Then she introduced her +companion. + +"This is Mr. Dennison Grant, foreman of the Landson ranch, Dad." + +Grant extended his hand, but Y.D. hesitated. The truce occasioned +by the fire did not by any means imply permanent peace. Far from +it, with the valley in ruins-- + +Y.D. was stiffening, but his daughter averted what would in another +moment have been an embarrassing situation with a quick remark. + +"This is no time, even for explanations," she said, "except that +Mr. Grant saved my life last evening at the risk of his own, and +has lost a night's sleep for his pains." + +"That was a man's work," said Y.D. It would not have been possible +for his lips to have framed a greater compliment. "I'm obliged to +you, Grant. You know how it is with us cattlemen; we run mostly to +horns and hoofs, but I suppose we have some heart, too, if you can +find it." + +They shook hands with as much cordiality as the situation permitted, +and then Zen introduced Transley and Linder, who were in the party. +There were two or three others whom she did not know, but they all +shook hands. + +"What happened, Zen?" said Transley, with his usual directness. +"Give us the whole story." + +Then she told them what she knew, from the point where she had met +Grant on the fire-encircled hill. + +"Two lucky people--two lucky people," was all Transley's comment. +Words could not have expressed the jealousy he felt. But Linder +was not too shy to place his hand with a friendly pressure upon +Grant's shoulder. + +"Good work," he said, and with two words sealed a friendship. + +Two of the unnamed members of the party volunteered their horses to +Zen and Grant, and all hands started back to camp. Y.D. talked +almost garrulously; not even himself had known how heavily the hand +of Fate had lain on him through the night. + +"The haymakin' is all off, Darter," he said. "We will trek back to +the Y.D. as soon as you feel fit. The steers will have to take +chances next winter." + +The girl professed her fitness to make the trip at once, and indeed +they did make it that very day. Y.D. pressed Grant to remain for +breakfast, and Tompkins, notwithstanding the demoralization of +equipment and supplies effected by the fire, again excelled +himself. After breakfast the old rancher found occasion for a word +with Grant. + +"You know how it is, Grant," he said. "There's a couple of things +that ain't explained, an' perhaps it's as well all round not to +press for opinions. I don't know how the iron stakes got in my +meadow, an' you don't know how the fire got in yours. But I give +you Y.D.'s word--which goes at par except in a cattle trade--" and +Y.D. laughed cordially at his own limitations--"I give you my word +that I don't know any more about the fire than you do." + +"And I don't know anything more about the stakes than you do," +returned Grant. + +"Well, then, let it stand at that. But mind," he added, with +returning heat, "I'm not committin' myself to anythin' in advance. +This grass'll grow again next year, an' by heavens if I want it +I'll cut it! No son of a sheep herder can bluff Y.D!" + +Grant did not reply. He had heard enough of Y.D.'s boisterous +nature to make some allowances. + +"An' mind I mean it," continued Y.D., whose chagrin over being +baffled out of a thousand tons of hay overrode, temporarily at +least, his appreciation of Grant's services. "Mind, I mean it. No +monkey-doodles next season, young man." + +Obviously Y.D. was becoming worked up, and it seemed to Grant that +the time had come to speak. + +"There will be none," he said, quietly. "If you come over the +hills to cut the South Y.D. next summer I will personally escort +you home again." + +Y.D. stood open-mouthed. It was preposterous that this young +upstart foreman on a second-rate ranch like Landson's should +deliberately defy him. + +"You see, Y.D.," continued Grant, with provoking calmness, "I've +seen the papers. You've run a big bluff in this country. You've +occupied rather more territory than was coming to you. In a word, +you've been a good bit of a bully. Now--let me break it to you +gently--those good old days are over. In future you're going to +stay on your own side of the line. If you crowd over you'll be +pushed back. You have no more right to the hay in this valley than +you have to the hide on Landson's steers, and you're not going to +cut it any more, at all." + +Y.D. exploded in somewhat ineffective profanity. He had a wide +vocabulary of invective, but most of it was of the stand-and-fight +variety. There is some language which is not to be used, unless +you are willing to have it out on the ground, there and then. Y.D. +had no such desire. Possibly a curious sense of honor entered into +the case. It was not fair to call a young man names, and although +there was considerable truth in Grant's remark that Y.D. was a +bully, his bullying did not take that form. Possibly, also, he +recalled at that moment the obligation under which Zen's accident +had placed him. At any rate he wound up rather lamely. + +"Grant," he said, "if I want that hay next year I'll cut it, spite +o' hell an' high water." + +"All right, Y.D.," said Grant, cheerfully. "We'll see. Now, if +you can spare me a horse to ride home, I'll have him sent back +immediately." + +Y.D. went to find Transley and arrange for a horse, and in a moment +Zen appeared from somewhere. + +"You've been quarreling with Dad," she said, half reproachfully, +and yet in a tone which suggested that she could understand. + +"Not exactly that," he parried. "We were just having a frank talk +with each other." + +"I know something of Dad's frank talks. . . I'm sorry. . . I would +have liked to ask you to come and see me--to see us--my mother +would be glad to see you. I can hardly ask you to come if you are +going to be bad friends with Dad." + +"No, I suppose not," he admitted. + +"You were very good to me; very--decent," she continued. + +At that moment Transley, Linder, and Y.D. appeared, with two +horses. + +"Linder will ride over with you and bring back the spare beast," +said Y.D. + +Grant shook hands, rather formally, with Y.D. and Transley, and +then with Zen. She murmured some words of thanks, and just as he +would have withdrawn his hand he felt her fingers tighten very +firmly about his. He answered the pressure, and turned quickly +away. + +Transley immediately struck camp, and Y.D. and his daughter drove +homeward, somewhat painfully, over the blackened hills. + +Transley lost no time in finding other employment. It was late in +the season to look for railway contracts, and continued dry weather +had made grading, at best, a somewhat difficult business. Influx +of ready money and of those who follow it had created considerable +activity in a neighboring centre which for twenty years had been +the principal cow-town of the foothill country. In defiance of all +tradition, and, most of all, in defiance of the predictions of the +ranchers who had known it so long for a cow-town and nothing more, +the place began to grow. No one troubled to inquire exactly why it +should grow, or how. As for Transley, it was enough for him that +team labor was in demand. He took a contract, and three days after +the fire in the foothills he was excavating for business blocks +about to be built in the new metropolis. + +It was no part of Transley's plan, however, to quite lose touch +with the people on the Y.D. They were, in fact, the centre about +which he had been doing some very serious thinking. His +outspokenness with Zen and her father had had in it a good deal of +bravado--the bravado of a man who could afford to lose the stake, +and smile over it. In short, he had not cared whether he offended +them or not. Transley was a very self-reliant contractor; he gave, +even to the millionaire rancher, no more homage than he demanded in +return. . . . Still, Zen was a very desirable girl. As he turned +the matter over in his mind Transley became convinced that he +wanted Zen. With Transley, to want a thing meant to get it. He +always found a way. And he was now quite sure that he wanted Zen. +He had not known that positively until the morning when he found +her in the grey light of dawn with Dennison Grant. There was a +suggestion of companionship there between the two which had cut him +to the quick. Like most ambitious men, Transley was intensely +jealous. + +Up to this time Transley had not thought seriously of matrimony. A +wife and children he regarded as desirable appendages for declining +years--for the quiet and shade of that evening toward which every +active man looks with such irrational confidence. But for the heat +of the day--for the climb up the hill--they would be unnecessary +encumbrances. Transley always took a practical view of these +matters. It need hardly be stated that he had never been in love; +in fact Transley would have scouted the idea of any passion which +would throw the practical to the winds. That was a thing for +weaklings, and, possibly, for women. + +But his attachment for Zen was a very practical matter. Zen was +the only heir to the Y.D. wealth. She would bring to her husband +capital and credit which Transley could use to good advantage in +his business. She would also bring personality--a delightful +individuality--of which any man might be proud. She had that fine +combination of attractions which is expressed in the word charm. +She had health, constitution, beauty. She had courage and +sympathy. She had qualities of leadership. She would bring to him +not only the material means to build a house, but the spiritual +qualities which make a home. She would make him the envy of all +his acquaintances. And a jealous man loves to be envied. + +So after the work on the excavations had been properly started +Transley turned over the detail to the always dependable Linder, +and, remarking that he had not had a final settlement with Y.D., +set out for the ranch in the foothills. While spending the long +autumn day alone in the buggy he was able to turn over and develop +plans on an even more ambitious scale than had occurred to him amid +the hustle of his men and horses. + +The valley was lying very warm and beautiful in yellow light, and +the setting sun was just capping the mountains with gold and +painting great splashes of copper and bronze on the few clouds +becalmed in the heavens, when Transley's tired team jogged in among +the cluster of buildings known as the Y.D. The rancher met him at +the bunk-house. He greeted Transley with a firm grip of his great +palm, and with jaws open in suggestion of a sort of carnivorous +hospitality. + +"Come up to the house, Transley," he said, turning the horses over +to the attention of a ranch hand. "Supper is just ready, an' the +women will be glad to see you." + +Zen, walking with a limp, met them at the gate. Transley's eyes +reassured him that he had not been led astray by any process of +idealization; Zen was all his mind had been picturing her. She was +worth the effort. Indeed, a strange sensation of tenderness +suffused him as he walked by her side to the door, supporting her a +little with his hand. There they were ushered in by the rancher's +wife, and Zen herself showed Transley to a cool room where were +white towels and soft water from the river and quiet and restful +furnishings. Transley congratulated himself that he could hardly +hope to be better received. + +After supper he had a social drink with Y.D., and then the two sat +on the veranda and smoked and discussed business. Transley found +Y.D. more liberal in the adjustment than he had expected. He had +not yet realized to what an extent he had won the old rancher's +confidence, and Y.D. was a man who, when his confidence had been +won, never haggled over details. He was willing to compromise the +loss on the operations on the South Y.D. on a scale that was not +merely just, but generous. + +This settled, Transley proceeded to interest Y.D. in the work in +which he was now engaged. He drew a picture of activities in the +little metropolis such as stirred the rancher's incredulity. + +"Well, well," Y.D. would say. "Transley, I've known that little +hole for about thirty years, an' never seen it was any good excep' +to get drunk in. . . . I've seen more things there than is down in +the books." + +"You wouldn't know the change that has come about in a few months," +said Transley, with enthusiasm. "Double shifts working by electric +light, Y.D! What do you think of that? Men with rolls of money +that would choke a cow sleeping out in tents because they can't get +a roof over them. Why, man, I didn't have to hunt a job there; the +job hunted me. I could have had a dozen jobs at my own price if I +could have handled them. It's just as if prosperity was a river +which had been trickling through that town for thirty years, and +all of a sudden the dam up in the foothills gives away and down she +comes with a rush. Lots which sold a year ago for a hundred +dollars are selling now for five hundred--sometimes more. Old +ranchers living on the bald-headed a few years ago find themselves +today the owners of city property worth millions, and are dressing +uncomfortably, in keeping with their wealth, or vainly trying to +drink up the surplus. So far sense and brains has had nothing to +do with it, Y.D., absolutely nothing. It has been fool luck. But +the brains are coming in now, and the brains will get the money, in +the long run." + +Transley paused and lit another cigar. Y.D. rolled his in his +lips, reflectively. + +"I mind some doin's in that burg," he said, as though the memory of +them was of greater importance than all that might be happening +now. + +Transley switched back to business. "We ought to be in on it, +Y.D.," he said. "Not on the fly-by-night stuff; I don't mean that. +But I could take twice the contracts if I had twice the outfit." + +Y.D. brought his chair down on to all four legs and removed his +cigar. + +"You mean we should hit her together?" he demanded. + +"It would be a great compliment to me, if you had that confidence +in me, and I'm sure it would make some good money for you." + +"How'd you work it?" + +"You have a bunch of horses running here on the ranch, eating their +heads off. Many of them are broke, and the others would soon tame +down with a scraper behind them. Give them to me and let me put +them to work. I'd have to have equipment, too. Your name on the +back of my note would get it, and you wouldn't actually have to put +up a dollar. Then we'd make an inventory of what you put into the +firm and what I put into it, and we'd divide the earnings in +proportion." + +"After payin' you a salary as manager, of course," suggested Y.D. + +"That's immaterial. With a bigger outfit and more capital I can +make so much more money out of the earnings that I don't care +whether I get a salary or not. But I wouldn't figure on going on +contracting all the time for other people. We might as well have +the cream as the skimmed milk. This is the way it's done. We go +to the owner of a block of lots somewhere where there's no building +going on. He's anxious to start something, because as soon as +building starts in that district the lots will sell for two or +three times what they do now. We say to him, 'Give us every second +lot in your block and we'll put a house on it.' In this way we get +the lots for a trifle; perhaps for nothing. Then we build a lot of +houses, more or less to the same plan. We put 'em up quick and +cheap. We build 'em to sell, not to live in. Then we mortgage 'em +for the last cent we can get. Then we put the price up to twice +what the mortgage is and sell them as fast as we can build them, +getting our equity out and leaving the purchasers to settle with +the mortgage company. It's good for from thirty to forty per cent, +profit, not per annum, but per transaction." + +"It sounds interesting," said Y.D., "an' I suppose I might as well +put my spare horses an' credit to work. I don't mind drivin' down +with you to-morrow an' looking her over first hand." + +This was all Transley had hoped for, and the talk turned to less +material matters. After a while Zen joined them, and a little +later Y.D. left to attend to some business at the bunk-house. + +"Your father and I may go into partnership, Zen," Transley said to +her, when they were alone together. He explained in a general way +the venture that was afoot. + +"That will be very interesting," she agreed. + +"Will you be interested?" + +"Of course. I am interested in everything that Dad undertakes." + +"And are you not--will you not be--just a little interested in the +things that I undertake?" + +She paused a moment before replying. The dusk had settled about +them, and he could not see the contour of her face, but he knew +that she had realized the significance of his question. + +"Why yes," she said at length, "I will be interested in what you +undertake. You will be Dad's partner." + +Her evasion nettled him. + +"Zen," he said, "why shouldn't we understand each other?" + +"Don't we?" She had turned slightly toward him, and he could feel +the laughing mockery in her eyes. + +"I rather think we do," he answered, "only we--at least, you--won't +admit it." + +"Oh!" + +"Seriously, Zen, do you imagine I came over here to-day simply to +make a deal with your father?" + +"Wasn't that worth while?" + +"Of course it was. But it wasn't the whole purpose--it wasn't half +the purpose. I wanted to see Y.D., it is true, but more, very much +more, I wanted to see you." + +She did not answer, and he could only guess what was the trend of +her thoughts. After a silence he continued. + +"You may think I am precipitate. You intimated as much to me once. +I am. I know of no reason why an honest man should go beating +about the bush. When I want something I want it, and I make a bee- +line for it. If it is a contract--if it is a business matter--I go +right after it, with all the energy that's in me. When I'm looking +for a contract I don't start by talking about the weather. Well-- +this is my first experience in love, and perhaps my methods are all +wrong, but it seems to me they should apply. At any rate a girl of +your intelligence will understand." + +"Applying your business principles," she interrupted, "I suppose if +you wanted a wife and there was none in sight you would advertise +for her?" + +He defended his position. "I don't see why not," he declared. "I +can't understand the general attitude of levity toward matrimonial +advertisements. Apparently they are too open and above-board. +Matrimony should not be committed in a round-about, indirect, hit- +or-miss manner. A young man sees a girl whom he thinks he would +like to marry. Does he go to her house and say, 'Miss So-and-So, I +think I would like to marry you. Will you allow me to call on you +so that we may get better acquainted, with that object in view?' +He does not. Such honesty would be considered almost brutal. He +calls on her and pretends he would like to take her to the theatre, +if it is in town, or for a ride, if it is in the country. She +pretends she would like to go. Both of them know what the real +purpose is, and both of them pretend they don't. They start the +farce by pretending a deceit which deceives nobody. They wait for +nature to set up an attraction which shall overrule their judgment, +rather than act by judgment first and leave it to nature to take +care of herself. How much better it would be to be perfectly +frank--to boldly announce the purpose--to come as I now come to you +and say, 'Zen, I want to marry you. My reason, my judgment, tells +me that you would be an ideal mate. I shall be proud of you, and I +will try to make you proud of me. I will gratify your desires in +every way that my means will permit. I pledge you my fidelity in +return for yours. I--I--' Zen, will you say yes? Can you believe +that there is in my simple words more sincerity than there could be +in any mad ravings about love? You are young, Zen, younger than I, +but you must have observed some things. One of them is that +marriage, founded on mutual respect, which increases with the +years, is a much safer and wiser business than marriage founded on +a passion which quickly burns itself out and leaves the victims +cold, unresponsive, with nothing in common. You may not feel that +you know me well enough for a decision. I will give you every +opportunity to know me better--I will do nothing to deceive you--I +will put on no veneer--I will let you know me as I really am. Will +you say yes?" + +He had left his seat and approached her; he was leaning close over +her chair. While his words had suggested marriage on a purely +intellectual basis he did not hesitate to bring his physical +presence into the scale. He was accustomed to having his way--he +had always had it--never did he want it more than he did now. . . . +And although he had made his plea from the intellectual angle he +was sure, he was very, very sure there was more than that. This +girl; whose very presence delighted him--intoxicated him--would +have made him mad-- + +"Will you say yes?" he repeated, and his hands found hers and drew +her with his great strength up from her chair. She did not resist, +but when she was on her feet she avoided his embrace. + +"You must not hurry me," she whispered. "I must have time to +think. I did not realize what you were saying until--" + +"Say yes now," he urged. Transley was a man very hard to resist. +She felt as though she were in the grip of a powerful machine; it +was as though she were being swept along by a stream against which +her feeble strength was as nothing. Zen was as nearly frightened +as she had ever been in her vigorous young life. And yet there was +something delightful. It would have been so easy to surrender--it +was so hard to resist. + +"Say yes now," he repeated, drawing her close at last and breathing +the question into her ear. "You shall have time to think--you +shall ask your own heart, and if it does not confirm your words you +will be released from your promise." + +They heard the footsteps of her father approaching, and Transley +waited no longer for an answer. He turned her face to his; he +pressed his lips against hers. + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Zen thought over the events of that evening until they became a +blur in her memory. Her principal recollection was that she had +been quite swept off her feet. Transley had interpreted her +submission as assent, and she had not corrected him in the vital +moment when they stood before her father that night in the deep +shadow of the veranda. + +"Y.D.," Transley had said, "your consent and your blessing! Zen +and I are to be married as soon as she can be ready." + +That was the moment at which she should have spoken, but she did +not. She, who had prided herself that she would make a race of it-- +she, who had always been able to slip out of a predicament in the +nick of time--stood mutely by and let Transley and her father +interpret her silence as consent. She was not sure that she was +sorry; she was not sure but she would have consented anyway; but +Transley had taken the matter quite out of her hands. And yet she +could not bring herself to feel resentment toward him; that was the +strangest part of it. It seemed that she had come under his +domination; that she even had to think as he would have her think. + +In the darkness she could not see her father's face, for which she +was sorry; and he could not see hers, for which she was glad. +There was a long moment of tense silence before she heard him say, + +"Well, well! I had a hunch it might come to that, but I didn't +reckon you youngsters would work so fast." + +"This was a stake worth working fast for," Transley was saying, as +he shook Y.D.'s hand. "I wouldn't trade places with any man +alive." And Zen was sure he meant exactly what he said. + +"She's a good girl, Transley," her father commented; "a good girl, +even if a bit obstrep'rous at times. She's got spirit, Transley, +an' you'll have to handle her with sense. She's a--a thoroughbred!" + +Y.D. had reached his arms toward his daughter, and at these words +he closed them about her. Zen had never known her father to be +emotional; she had known him to face matters of life and death +without the quiver of an eyelid, but as he held her there in his +arms that night she felt his big frame tremble. Suddenly she had a +powerful desire to cry. She broke from his embrace and ran +upstairs to her room. + +When she came down her father and mother and Transley were sitting +about the table in the living-room; the room hung with trophies of +the chase and of competition; the room which had been the nucleus +of the Y.D. estate. There was a colored cover on the table, and +the shaded oil lamp in the centre sent a comfortable glow of light +downward and about. The mammoth shadows of the three people fell +on the log walls, darting silently from position to position with +their every movement. + +Her mother arose as Zen entered the room and took her hands in a +warm, tender grip. + +"You're early leaving us," she said. "I'm not saying I object. I +think Mr. Transley will make you a good husband. He is a man of +energy, like your father. He will do well. You will not know the +hardships that we knew in our early married life." Their eyes met, +and there was a moment's pause. + +"You will not understand for many years what this means to me, +Zenith," her mother said, and turned quickly to her place at the +table. + +She could not remember what they had talked about after that. She +had been conscious of Transley's eyes often on her, and of a +certain spiritual exaltation within her. She could not remember +what she had said, but she knew she had talked with unusual +vivacity and charm. It was as though certain storehouses of +brilliance in her being, of which she had been unaware, had been +suddenly opened to her. It was as though she had been intoxicated +by a very subtle wine which did not deaden, but rather quickened, +all her faculties. + +Afterwards, she had spent long hours among the foothills, thinking +and thinking. There were times when the flame of that strange +exaltation burned low indeed; times when it seemed almost to +expire. There were moments--hours--of misgivings. She could not +understand the strange docility which had come over her; the +unprecedented willingness to have her course shaped by another. +That strange willingness came as near to frightening Zen as +anything had ever done. She felt that she was being carried along +in a stream; that she was making no resistance; that she had no +desire to resist. She had a strange fear that some day she would +need to resist; some day she would mightily need qualities of self- +direction, and those qualities would refuse to arise at her +command. + +She did not fear Transley. She believed in him. She believed in +his ability to grapple with anything that stood in his way; to +thrust it aside, and press on. She respected the judgment of her +father and her mother, and both of them believed in Transley. He +would succeed; he would seize the opportunities this young country +afforded and rise to power and influence upon them. He would be +kind, he would be generous. He would make her proud of him. What +more could she want? + +That was just it. There were dark moments when she felt that +surely there must be something more than all this. She did not +know what it was--she could not analyze her thoughts or give them +definite form--but in these dark moments she feared that she was +being tricked, that the whole thing was a sham which she would +discover when it was too late. She did not suspect her mother, or +her father, or Transley, one or all, of being parties to this +trick; she believed that they did not know it existed. She herself +did not know it existed. But the fear was there. + +After a week she admitted, much against her will, that possibly +Dennison Grant had something to do with it. She had not seen him +since she had pressed his fingers and he had ridden away through +the smoke-haze of the South Y.D. She had dutifully tried to force +him from her mind. But he would not stay out of it. It was about +that fact that her misgivings seemed most to centre. When she +would be thinking of Transley, and wondering about the future, +suddenly she would discover that she was not thinking of Transley, +but of Dennison Grant. These discoveries shocked and humiliated +her. It was an impossible position. She would throw Grant +forcibly out of her mind and turn to Transley. And then, in an +unguarded moment, Transley would fade from her consciousness, and +she would know again that she was thinking of Grant. + +At length she allowed herself the luxury of thinking frankly about +Dennison Grant. It WAS a luxury. It brought her a secret +happiness which she was wholly at a loss to understand, but which +was very delightful, nevertheless. She amused herself with +comparing Grant with Transley. They had two points in common: +their physical perfection and their fearless, self-confident +manner. With these exceptions they seemed to be complete +contradictions. The ambitious Transley worshipped success; the +philosophical Grant despised it. That difference in attitude +toward the world and its affairs was a ridge which separated the +whole current of their lives. It even, in a way, shut one from the +view of the other; at least it shut Grant from the view of Transley. +Transley would never understand Grant, but Grant might, and probably +did, understand Transley. That was why Grant was the greater of the +two. . . . + +She reproached herself for such a thought; it was disloyal to admit +that this stranger on the Landson ranch was a greater man than her +husband-to-be. And yet honesty--or, perhaps, something deeper than +honesty--compelled her to make that admission. . . . She ran back +over the remembered incidents of the night they had spent together, +marooned like shipwrecked sailors on a rock in the foothills. His +attentiveness, his courtesy, his freedom from any conventional +restraint, his manly respect which was so much greater than +conventional restraint--all these came back to her with a poignant +tenderness. She pictured Transley in his place. Transley would +probably have proposed even before he bandaged her ankle. Grant +had not said a word of love, or even of affection. He had talked +freely of himself--at her request--but there had been nothing that +might not have been said before the world. She had been safe with +Grant. . . . + +After she had thought on this theme for a while Zen would acknowledge +to herself that the situation was absurd and impossible. Grant had +given no evidence of thinking more of her than of any other girl +whom he might have met. He had been chivalrous only. She had sat up +with a start at the thought that there might be another girl. . . . +Or there might be no girl. Grant was an unusual character. . . . + +At any rate, the thing for her to do was to forget about him. She +should have no place in her mind for any man but Transley. It was +true he had stampeded her, but she had accepted the situation in +which she found herself. Transley was worthy of her--she had +nothing to take back--she would go through with it. + +On the principle that the way to drive an unwelcome thought out of +the mind is to think vigorously about something else, Zen occupied +herself with plans and day-dreams centering about the new home that +was to be built in town. Neither her father nor Transley had as +yet returned from the trip on which they had gone with a view to +forming a partnership, so there had been no opportunity to discuss +the plans for the future, but Zen took it for granted that Transley +would build in town. He was so enthusiastic over the possibilities +of that young and bustling centre of population that there was no +doubt he would want to throw in his lot with it. This prospect was +quite pleasing to the girl; it would leave her within easy distance +of her old home; it would introduce her to a type of society with +which she was well acquainted, and where she could do herself +justice, and it would not break up the associations of her young +life. She would still be able, now and again, to take long rides +through the tawny foothills; to mingle with her old friends; +possibly to maintain a somewhat sisterly acquaintance with Dennison +Grant. . . . + +After ten days Y.D. returned--alone. He had scarcely been able to +believe the developments which he had seen. It was as though the +sleepy, lazy cow-town had become electrified. Y.D. had looked on +for three days, wondering if he were not in some kind of a dream +from which he would awaken presently among his herds in the +foothills. After three days he bought a property. Before he left +he sold it at a profit greater than the earnings of his first five +years on the ranch. It would be indeed a stubborn confidence which +could not be won by such an experience, and before leaving for the +ranch Y.D. had arranged for Transley practically an open credit +with his bankers, and had undertaken to send down all the horses +and equipment that could be spared. + +Transley had planned to return to the foothills with Y.D., but at +the last moment business matters developed which required his +attention. He placed a tiny package in Y.D.'s capacious palm. + +"For the girl," he said. "I should deliver it myself, but you'll +explain?" + +Y.D. fumbled the tiny package into a vest pocket. "Sure, I'll +attend to that," he promised. "Wasn't much of these fancy +trimmin's when I settled into double harness, but lots of things +has changed since then. You'll be out soon?" + +"Just as soon as business will stand for it. Not a minute longer." + +On his return home Y.D., after maintaining an exasperating silence +until supper was finished, casually handed the package to his +daughter. + +"Some trinket Transley sent out," he explained. "He'll be here +himself as soon as business permits." + +She took the package with a glow of expectancy, started to open it, +then folded the paper again and ran up to her room. Here she +tempted herself for minutes before she would finally open it, +whetting the appetite of anticipation to the full. . . . The gem +justified her little play. It was magnificent; more beautiful and +more expensive than anything her father ever bought her. + +She hesitated strangely about putting it on. To Zen it seemed that +the putting on of Transley's ring would be a voluntary act +symbolizing her acceptance of him. If she had been carried off her +feet--swept into the position in which she found herself--that +explanation would not apply to the deliberate placing of his ring +upon her finger. There would be no excuse; she could never again +plead that she had been the victim of Transley's precipitateness. +This would be deliberate, and she must do it herself. + +She rather blamed Transley for not having left his old business and +come to perform this rite himself, as he should have done. What +was one day of business, more or less? Yet Zen gathered no hint +from that incident that always, with Transley, business would come +first. It was symbolic--prophetic--but she did not see the sign +nor understand the prophecy. + +She held the ring between her fingers; slipped it off and on her +little fingers; held it so the rays of the sun fell through the +window upon it and danced before her eyes in all their primal +colors. + +"I have to put this on," she said, pursing her lips firmly, "and-- +and forget about Dennison Grant!" + +For a long time she thought of that and all it meant. Then she +raised the jewel to her lips. + +"Help me--help me--" she murmured. With a quick little impetuous +motion she drew it on to the finger where it belonged. There she +gazed upon it for a moment, as though fascinated by it. Then she +fell upon her bed and lay motionless until long after the valley +was wrapped in shadow. + +The events of these days had almost driven from Zen's mind the +tragedy of George Drazk. When she thought of it at all it +presented such a grotesque unreality--it was such an unreasonable +thing--that it assumed the vague qualities of a dream. It was +something unreal and very much better forgotten, and it was only by +an unwilling effort at such times that she could bring herself to +know that it was not unreal. It was a matter that concerned her +tremendously. Sooner or later Drazk's disappearance must be +noted,--perhaps his body would be found--and while she had little +fear that anyone would associate her with the tragedy it was a most +unpleasant thing to think about. Sometimes she wondered if she +should not tell her father or Transley just what had happened, but +she shrank from doing so as from the confession of a crime. Mostly +she was able to think of other matters. + +Her father brought it up in a startling way at breakfast. Absolutely +out of a blue sky he said, "Did you know, Zen, that Drazk has +disappeared? Transley tells me you were int'rested a bit in him, or +perhaps I should say he was int'rested in you." + +Zen was so overcome by this startling change in the conversation +that she was unable to answer. The color went from her face and +she leaned low over her plate to conceal her agitation. + +"Yep," continued Y.D., with no more concern than if a steer had +been lost from the herd. "Transley said to tell you Drazk had +disappeared an' he reckoned you wouldn't be bothered any more with +him." + +"Drazk was nothing to me," she managed to say. "How can you think +he was?" + +"Now who said he was?" her father retorted. "For a young woman +with the price of a herd of steers on her third finger you're sort +o' short this mornin'. Now I'm jus' wonderin' how far you can see +through a board fence, Zen. Are you surprised that Drazk has +disappeared?" + +She was entirely at a loss to understand the drift of her father's +talk. He could not connect her with Drazk's disappearance, or he +would not approach the matter with such unconcern. That was +unthinkable. Neither could Transley, or he would not have sent so +brutal a message. And yet it was clear that they thought she +should be interested. + +Her father's question demanded an answer. + +"What should I care?" she ventured at length. + +"I didn't ask you whether you cared. I asked you whether you was +surprised." + +"Drazk's movements were--are nothing to me. I don't know that I +have any occasion to be surprised about anything he may do." + +"Well, I'm rather glad you're not, because if you don't jump to +conclusions, perhaps other people won't. Not that it makes any +partic'lar diff'rence." + +"Dad," she cried in desperation, "whatever do you mean?" + +"It was all plain enough to me, an' plain enough to Transley," her +father continued with remarkable calmness. "We seen it right from +the first." + +"You're talking in riddles, Y.D.," his wife remonstrated. "You're +getting Zen all worked up." + +"Jewelry seems to be mighty upsettin'," Y.D. commented. "There was +nothin' like that in our engagement, eh, Jessie? Well, to come to +the point. There was a fire which burned up the valley of the +South Y.D. Fires don't start themselves--usually. This one +started among the Landson stacks, so it was natural enough to +suspec' Y.D. or some of his sympathizers. Well it wasn't Y.D., an' +I reckon it wasn't Zen, an' it wasn't Transley nor Linder an' every +one of the gang's accounted for excep' Drazk. Drazk thought he was +doin' a great piece of business when he fired the Landson hay, but +when the wind turned an' burned up the whole valley Drazk sees +where he can't play no hero part around here so he loses himself +for good. I gathered from Transley that Drazk had been botherin' +you a little, Zen, which is why I told you." + +The girl's heart was pounding violently at this explanation. It +was logical, and would be accepted readily by those who knew Drazk. +She would not trust herself in further conversation, so she slipped +away as soon as she could and spent the day riding down by the +river. + +The afternoon wore on, and as the day was warm she dismounted by a +ford and sat down upon a flat rock close to the water. The rock +reminded her of the one on which she and Grant had sat that night +while the thin red lines of fire played far up and down the valley. +Her ankle was paining a little so she removed her boot and stocking +and soothed it in the cool water. + +As she sat watching her reflection in the clear stream and toying +with the ripple about her foot a horseman rode quickly down through +the cottonwoods on the other side and plunged into the ford. It +happened so quickly that neither saw the other until he was well +into the river. Although she had had no dream of seeing him here, +in some way she felt no surprise. Her heart was behaving +boisterously, but she sat outwardly demure, and when he was close +enough she sent a frank smile up to him. The look on his sunburned +face as he returned her greeting convinced her that the meeting, on +his part, was no less unexpected and welcome than it was to her. + +When his horse was out of the water he dismounted and walked to her +with extended hand. + +"This is an unexpected pleasure," he said. "How is the ankle +progressing?" + +"Well enough," she returned, "but it gets tired as the day wears +on. I am just resting a bit." + +There was a moment of somewhat embarrassed silence. + +"That is a good-sized rock," he suggested, at length. + +"Yes, isn't it? And here in the shade, at that." + +She did not invite him with words, but she gave her body a slight +hitch, as though to make room, although there was enough already. +He sat down without comment. + +"Not unlike a rock I remember up in the foothills," he remarked, +after a silence. + +"Oh, you remember that? It WAS like this, wasn't it?" + +"Same two people sitting on it." + +". . . . Yes." + +"Not like this, though." + +"No. . . . You're mean. You know I didn't intend to fall asleep." + +"Of course not. Still. . . ." + +His voice lingered on it as though it were a delightful remembrance. + +She found herself holding one of her hands in the other. She could +feel the pressure of Transley's ring on her palm, and she held it +tighter still. + +"Riding anywhere in particular?" he inquired. + +"No. Just mooning." She looked up at him again, this time at +close quarters. It was a quick, bright flash on his face--a moment +only. + +"Why mooning?" + +She did not answer. Looking down in the water he met her gaze +there. + +"You're troubled!" he exclaimed. + +"Oh, no! My--my ankle hurts a little." + +He looked at her sympathetically. "But not that much," he said. + +She gave a forced little laugh. "What a mind reader you are! Can +you tell my fortune?" + +"I should have to read it in your hand." + +She would have extended her hand, but for Transley's ring. + +"No. . . . No. You'll have to read it in--in the stars." + +"Then look at me." She did so, innocently. + +"I cannot read it there," he said, after his long gaze had begun to +whip the color to her cheeks. "There is no answer." + +She turned again to the water, and after a long while she heard his +voice, very low and earnest. + +"Zen, I could read a fortune for you, if you would not be offended. +We are only chance acquaintances--not very well acquainted, yet--" + +She knew what he meant, but she pretended she did not. Even in +that moment something came to her of Transley's speech about love +being a game of pretence. Very well, she would play the game--this +once. + +"I don't see how I could be offended at your reading my fortune," +she murmured. + +"Then this is the fortune I would read for you," he said boldly. +"I see a young man, a rather foolish young man, perhaps, by +ordinary standards, and yet one who has found a great deal of +happiness in his simple, unconventional life. Until a short time +ago he felt that life could give him all the happiness that was +worth having. He had health, strength, hours of work and hours of +pleasure, the fields, the hills, the mountains, the sky--all God's +open places to live in and enjoy. He thought there was nothing +more. + +"Well, then he found, all of a sudden, that there was something +more--everything more. He made that discovery on a calm autumn +night, when fire had blackened all the foothills and still ran in +dancing red ribbons over their distant crests. That night a great +thing--two great things--came into his life. First was something +he gave. Not very much, indeed, but typical of all it might be. +It was service. And next was something he received, something so +wonderful he did not understand it then, and does not understand it +yet. It was trust. These were things he had been leaving largely +out of his life, and suddenly he discovered how empty it was. I +think there is one word for both these things, and, it may be, for +even more. You know?" + +"I know," she said, and her voice was scarcely audible. + +"But it is YOUR fortune I am to read," he corrected himself. "It +has been your fortune to open that new world to me. That can never +be undone--those gates can never be closed--no matter where the +paths may lead. Those two paths go down to the future--as all +paths must--even as this road leads away through the valley to the +sunset. Zen--if only, like this road, they could run side by side +to the sunset--Oh! Zen, if they could?" + +"I know," she said, and as she raised her face he saw that her eyes +were wet. "I know--if only they could!" + +There was a little sob in her voice, and in her beauty and distress +she was altogether irresistible. He reached out his arms and would +have taken her in them, but she thrust her hands in his and held +herself back. She turned the diamond deliberately to his eyes. +She could feel his grip relax and apparently grow suddenly cold. +He stood speechless, like one dazed--benumbed. + +"You see, I should not have let you talk--it is my fault," she +said, speaking hurriedly. "I should not have let you talk. Please +do not think I am shallow; that I let you suffer to gratify my +vanity." Her eyes found his again. "If I had not believed every +word you said--if I had not liked every word you said--if I had +not--HOPED--every word you said, I would not have listened. . . . +But you see how it is." + +He was silent for so long that she thought he was not going to +answer her at all. When he spoke it was in a dry, parched voice. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "I should not have presumed--" + +"I know, I know. If only--" + +Then he looked straight at her and talked out. + +"You liked me enough to let me speak as I did. I opened my heart +to you. I ask no such concession in return. I hope you will not +think me presumptuous, but I do not plead now for my happiness, but +for yours. Is this irrevocable? Are--you--sure?" + +He said the last words so slowly and deliberately that she felt +that each of them was cutting the very rock from underneath her. +She knew she was at a junction point in her life, and her mind +strove to quickly appraise the situation. On one side was this man +who had for her so strange and so powerful an appeal. It was only +by sheer force of will that she could hold herself aloof from him. +But he was a man who had broken with his family and quarrelled with +her father--a man whom her father would certainly not for a moment +consider as a son-in-law. He was a foreman; practically a ranch +hand. Neither Zen nor her father were snobs, and if Grant worked +for a living, so did Transley. That was not to be counted against +him. The point was, what kind of living did he earn? What +Transley had to offer was perhaps on a lower plane, but it was more +substantial. It had been approved by her father, and her mother, +and herself. It wasn't as though one man were good and the other +bad; it wasn't as though one thing were right and the other wrong. +It would have been easy then. . . . + +"I have promised," she said at last. + +She released her hands from his, and, sitting down, silently put on +her stocking and boot. She was aware that he was still standing +near, as though waiting to be formally dismissed. She walked by +him to her horse and put her foot in the stirrup. Then she looked +at him and gave her hand a little farewell wave. + +Then a great pang, irresistible in its yearning, swept over her. +She drew her foot from the stirrup, and, rushing down, threw her +arms about his neck. . . . + +"I must go," she said. "I must go. We must both go and forget." + +And Dennison Grant continued his way down the valley while Zen rode +back to the Y.D., wondering if she could ever forget. + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Linder scratched his tousled brown hair reflectively as he gazed +after the retreating form of Transley. His hat was off, and the +perspiration stood on his sunburned face--a face which, in point of +handsomeness, needed make no apology to Transley. + +"Well, by thunder!" said Linder; "by thunder, think of that!" + +Linder stood for some time, thinking "of that" as deeply as his +somewhat disorganized mental state would permit. For Transley had +announced, with his usual directness, that he wanted so many men +and teams for a house excavation in the most exclusive part of the +city. So far they had been building in the cheaper districts a +cheap type of house for those who, having little capital, are the +easier deprived of what they have. The shift in operations caused +Linder to lift his eyebrows. + +Transley laughed boyishly and clapped a palm on his shoulder. + +"I may as well make you wise, Linder," he said. "We're going to +build a house for Mr. and Mrs. Transley." + +"MISSUS?" Linder echoed, incredulously. + +"That's the good word," Transley confirmed. "Never expected it to +happen to me, but it did, all of a sudden. You want to look out; +maybe it's catching." + +Transley was evidently in prime humor. Linder had, indeed, noted +this good humor for some time, but had attributed it to the very +successful operations in which his employer had been engaged. He +pulled himself together enough to offer a somewhat confused +congratulation. + +"And may I ask who is to be the fortunate young lady?" he ventured. + +"You may," said Transley, "but if you could see the length of your +nose it wouldn't be necessary. Linder, you're the best foreman I +ever had, just because you don't ever think of anything else. When +you pass on there'll be no heaven for you unless they give you +charge of a bunch of men and teams where you can raise a sweat and +make money for the boss. If you weren't like that you would have +anticipated what I've told you--or perhaps made a play for Zen +yourself." + +"Zen? You don't mean Y.D.'s daughter?" + +"If I don't mean Y.D.'s daughter I don't mean anybody, and you can +take that from me. You bet it's Zen. Say, Linder, I didn't think +I could go silly over a girl, but I'm plumb locoed. I bought the +biggest old sparkler in this town and sent it out with Y.D., if he +didn't lose it through the lining of his vest--he handled it like +it might have been a box of pills--bad pills, Linder--and I've got +an architect figuring how much expense he can put on a house--he +gets a commission on the cost, you see--and one of these nights I'm +going to buy you a dinner that'll keep you fed till Christmas. I +never knew before that silliness and happiness go together, but +they do. I'm glad I've got a sober old foreman--that's all that +keeps the business going." + +And after Transley had turned away Linder had scratched his head +and said "By thunder. . . . Linder, when you wake up you'll be +dead. . . . After her practically saying 'The water's fine.' . . . +Well, that's why I'm a foreman, and always will be." + +But after a little reflection Linder came to the conclusion that +perhaps it was all for the best. He could not have bought Y.D.'s +daughter a big sparkler or have built her a fine home--because he +was a foreman. It was a round circle. . . . He threw himself into +the building of Transley's house with as much fidelity as if it had +been his own. He gave his undivided attention to Transley's +interests, making dollars for him while earning cents for himself. +This attention was more needed than it ever had been, as Transley +found it necessary to make weekly trips to the ranch in the +foothills to consult with Y.D. upon business matters. + +Zen found her interest in Transley growing as his attentions +continued. He spent money upon her lavishly, to the point at which +she protested, for although Y.D. was rated as a millionaire the +family life was one of almost stark simplicity. Transley assured +her that he was making money faster than he possibly could spend +it, and even if not, money had no nobler mission than to bring her +happiness. He explained the blue-prints of the house, and +discussed with her details of the appointments. As the building +progressed he brought her weekly photographs of it. He urged her +to set the date about Christmas; during the winter contracting +would be at a standstill, so they would spend three months in +California and return in time for the spring business. + +Day by day the girl turned the situation over in her mind. Her +life had been swept into strange and unexpected channels, and the +experience puzzled her. Since the episode with Drazk she had lost +some of her native recklessness; she was more disposed to weigh the +result of her actions, and she approached the future not without +some misgivings. She assured herself that she looked forward to +her marriage with Transley with the proper delight of a bride-to- +be, and indeed it was a prospect that could well be contemplated +with pleasure. . . . Transley had won the complete confidence of +her father and when doubts assailed her Zen found in that fact a +very considerable comfort. Y.D. was a shrewd man; a man who seldom +guessed wrong. Zen did not admit that she was allowing her father +to choose a husband for her, but the fact that her father concurred +in the choice strengthened her in it. Transley had in him qualities +which would win not only wealth, but distinction, and she would +share in the laurels. She told herself that it was a delightful +outlook; that she was a very happy girl indeed--and wondered why she +was not happier! + +Particularly she laid it upon herself that she must now, finally, +dismiss Dennison Grant from her mind. It was absurd to suppose +that she cared more for Grant than she did for Transley. The two +men were so different; it was impossible to make comparisons. They +occupied quite different spheres in her regard. To be sure, Grant +was a very likeable man, but he was not eligible as a husband, and +she could not marry two, in any case. Zen entertained no girlish +delusions about there being only one man in the world. On the +contrary, she was convinced that there were very many men in the +world, and, among the better types, there was, perhaps, not so much +to choose between them. Grant would undoubtedly be a good husband +within his means; so would Transley, and his means were greater. +The blue-prints of the new house in town had not been without their +effect. It was a different prospect from being a foreman's wife on +a ranch. Her father would never hear of it. . . . + +So she busied herself with preparations for the great event, and +what preparations they were! "Zen," her father had said, "for once +the lid is off. Go the limit!" She took him at his word. There +were many trips to town, and activities about the old ranch +buildings such as they had never known since Jessie Wilson came to +finish Y.D.'s up-bringing, nor even then. The good word spread +throughout the foothill country and down over the prairies, and +many a lazy cloud of dust lay along the November hillsides as the +women folk of neighboring ranches came to pay their respects and +gratify their curiosity. Zen had treasures to show which sent them +home with new standards of extravagance. + +Y.D. had not thought he could become so worked up over a simple +matter like a wedding. Time had dulled the edge of memory, but +even after making allowances he could not recall that his marriage +to Jessie Wilson had been such an event in his life as this. It +did not at least reflect so much glory upon him personally. He +basked in the reflected glow of his daughter's beauty and +popularity, as happily as the big cat lying on the sunny side of +the bunk-house. He found all sorts of excuses for invading where +his presence was little wanted while Zen's finery was being +displayed for admiration. Y.D. always pretended that such +invasions were quite accidental, and affected a fine indifference +to all this "women's fuss an' feathers," but his affectations +deceived at least none of the older visitors. + +As the great day approached Y.D.'s wife shot a bomb-shell at him. +"What do you propose to wear for Zen's wedding?" she demanded. + +"What's the matter with the suit I go to town in?" + +"Y.D.," said his wife, kindly, "there are certain little touches +which you overlook. Your town suit is all right for selling +steers, although I won't say that it hasn't outlived its prime even +for that. To attend Zen's wedding it is--hardly the thing." + +"It's been a good suit," he protested. "It is--" + +"It HAS. It is also a venerable suit. But really, Y.D., it will +not do for this occasion. You must get yourself a new suit, and a +white shirt--" + +"What do I want with a white shirt--" + +"It has to be," his wife insisted. "You'll have to deck yourself +out in a new suit and a while shirt and collar." + +Y.D. stamped around the room, and in a moment slipped out. "All +fool nonsense," he confided to himself, on his way to the bunk- +house. "It's all right for Zen to have good clothes--didn't I tell +her to go the limit?--but as for me, 'tain't me that's gettin' +married, is it? Standin' up before all them cow punchers in a +white shirt!" The bitterness of such disgrace cut the old rancher +no less keenly than the physical discomfort which he forecast for +himself, yet he put his own desires sufficiently to one side to buy +a suit of clothes, and a white shirt and collar, when he was next +in town. + +It must not be supposed that Y.D. admitted to the salesman that he +personally was descending to any such garb. + +"A suit for a fellow about my size," he explained. "He's visitin' +out at the ranch, an' he hefts about the same as me. Put in one of +them Hereford shirts an' a collar." + +Y.D. tucked the package surreptitiously in his room and awaited the +day of Zen's marriage with mingled emotions. + +Zen, yielding to Transley's importunities, had at last said that it +should be Christmas Day. The wedding would be in the house, with +the leading ranchers and farmers of the district as invited guests, +and the general understanding was to be given out that the +countryside as a whole would be welcome. All could not be taken +care of in the house, so Y.D. gave orders that the hay was to be +cleared out of one of the barns and the floor put in shape for +dancing. Open house would be held in the barn and in the bunk- +house, where substantial refreshments would be served to all and +sundry. + +Christmas Day dawned with a seasonable nip to the air, but the sun +rose warm and bright. There was no snow, and by early afternoon +clouds of dust were rising on every trail leading to the Y.D. The +old ranchers and their wives drove in buckboards, and one or two in +automobiles; the younger generation, of both sexes, came on +horseback, with many an exciting impromptu race by the way. Y.D. +received them all in the yard, commenting on the horses and the +weather, and how the steers were wintering, and revealing, at the +proper moments, the location of a well-filled stone jug. The +faithful Linder was on hand to assist in caring for the horses and +maintaining organization about the yard. The women were ushered +into the house, but the men sat about the bunk-house or leaned +against the sunny side of the barn, sharpening their wits in +conversational sallies which occasionally brought loud guffaws of +merriment. + +In the house every arrangement had been completed. Zen was to come +down the stairs leaning on her father's arm, and the ceremony would +take place in the big central room, lavishly decorated with flowers +which Transley had sent from town in a heated automobile. After +the ceremony the principals and the older people would eat the +wedding dinner in the house, and all others would be served in the +bunk-house. One of the downstairs rooms was already filled with +presents. + +As the hour approached Zen found herself possessed of a calmness +which she deemed worthy of Y.D.'s daughter. She had elected to be +unattended as she had no very special girl friend, and that seemed +the simplest way out of the problem of selecting someone for this +honor. She was, however, amply assisted with her dressing, and the +color of her fine cheeks burned deeper with the compliments to +which she listened with modest appreciation. + +At a quarter to the hour it was discovered that Y.D. had not yet +dressed for the occasion. He was, in fact, engaged with Landson in +making a tentative arrangement for the distribution of next year's +hay. Zen had been so insistent upon an invitation being sent to +Mr. and Mrs. Landson, that Y.D., although fearing a snub for his +pains, at last conceded the point. He had done his neighbor rather +less than justice, and now he and Landson, with the assistance of +the jug already referred to, were burying the hatchet in a corner +of the bunk-house. + +"Dang this dressin'," Y.D. remonstrated when a message demanding +instant action reached him. "Landson, hear me now! I wouldn't +take a million dollars for that girl, y' understand--and I wouldn't +trade a mangy cayuse for another!" + +So, grumbling, he found his way to his room and began a wrestle +with his "store" clothes. Before the fight was over he was being +reminded through the door that he wasn't roping a steer, and +everybody was waiting. At the last moment he discovered that he +had neglected to buy shoes. There was nothing for it but his long +ranch boots, so on they went. + +He sought Zen in her room. "Will I do in this?" he asked, feeling +very sheepish. + +Zen could have laughed, or she could have cried, but she did +neither. She sensed in some way the fact that to her father this +experience was a positive ordeal. So she just slipped her arm +through his and whispered, "Of course you'll do, you silly old +duffer," and tripped down the stairs by the side of his ponderous +steps. + +After the ceremony the elder people sat down to dinner in the +house, and the others in the bunk-house. Zen was radiant and calm; +Transley handsome, delighted, self-possessed. His good luck was +the subject of many a comment, both inside and out of the old +house. He accepted it at its full value, and yet as one who has a +right to expect that luck will play him some favors. + +Suddenly there was a rush from outside, and Zen found herself being +carried bodily away. The young people had decided that the dancing +could wait no longer, so a half dozen hustlers had been deputed to +kidnap the bride and carry her to the barn, where the fiddles were +already strumming. Zen insisted that the first dance must belong +to Transley, but after that she danced with the young ranchers and +cowboys with strict impartiality. And even as she danced she found +herself wondering if, among all this representation of the +countryside, that one upon whom her thoughts had turned so much +should be missing. She found herself watching the door. Surely it +would have been only a decent respect to her--surely he might have +helped to whirl her joyously away into the new life in which the +past had to be forgotten. . . . How much better that they should +part that way, than with the memories they had! + +But Dennison Grant did not appear. Evidently he preferred to keep +his memories. . . . + +When at last the night had worn thin and it was time for the bridal +couple to leave if they were to catch the morning train in town, and +they had ridden down the foothill trails to the thunder of many +accompanying hoof-beats, the old ranch became suddenly a place very +quiet and still and alone. Y.D. sat down in the corner of the big +room by the fire, and saw strange pictures in its dying embers. +Zen. . . . Zen! . . . Transley was a good fellow, but how much a +man will take with scarce a thank-you! . . . Presently Y.D. became +aware of a hand resting upon his shoulder, and tingling from its +fingertips came something akin to the almost forgotten rapture of a +day long gone. He raised his great palm and took that slowly ageing +hand, once round and fresh like Zen's, in his. Together they +watched the fire die out in the silence of their empty house. . . . + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Grant read the account of her wedding in the city papers a day or +two later. It was given the place of prominence among the +Christmas Day nuptials. He read it through twice and then tossed +the paper to the end of his little office. Grant was housed in a +building by himself; a shack twelve by sixteen feet, double boarded +and tar-papered. A single square window in the eastern wall +commanded a view of the Landson corrals. On the opposite side of +the room was his bed; in the centre a huge wood-burning stove; near +the window stood a table littered with daily papers and agricultural +journals. The floor was of bare boards; a leather trunk, with D. G. +in aggressive letters, sat by the head of his bed, and in the corner +near the foot was a washstand with basin and pitcher of graniteware. +In another corner was a short shelf of well-selected books; clothing +hung from nails driven into the two-by-fours which formed the +framework of the little building; a rifle was suspended over the +door, and lariat and saddle hung from spikes in the wall. Grant sat +in an arm chair by the stove, where the bracket lamp on the wall +could shed its yellow glare upon his paper. + +After throwing the sheet across the room he half turned in his +chair, so that the yellow light fell across his face. Fidget, the +pup, always alert for action, was on her feet in a moment, eager to +lead the way to the door and whatever adventure might lie outside. +But Grant did not leave his chair, and, finding all her tail-waving +of no avail, she presently settled down again by the stove, her +chin on her outstretched paws, her drooping eyes half closed, but a +wakeful ear flopping occasionally forward and back. Grant snuggled +his foot against her friendly side and fell into reverie. . . . + +There was nothing else for it; he must absolutely dismiss Zen--Zen +Transley--from his mind. That was not only the course of honor; it +was the course of common sense. After all, he had not sought her +for his bride. He had not pressed his suit. He had given her to +Transley. The thought was rather a pleasant one. It implied some +sort of voluntary action upon Grant's part. He had been magnanimous. +Nevertheless, he was cave man enough to know pangs of jealousy which +his magnanimity could not suppress. + +"If things had been different," he remarked to himself; "if I had +been in a position to offer her decent conditions, I would have +followed up the lead. And I would have won." He turned the +incident on the river bank over in his mind, and a faint smile +played along his lips. "I would have won. But I couldn't bring +her here. . . . It's the first time I ever felt that money could +really contribute to happiness. Well--I was happy before I met +her; I can be happy still. This little episode. . . ." + +He crossed the room and picked up the newspaper he had thrown away; +he crumpled it in his hand as he approached the stove. It said the +bride was beautiful--the happy couple--the groom, prosperous young +contractor--California--three months. . . . He turned to the +table, smoothed out the paper, and studied it again. Of course he +had heard the whole thing from the Landsons; they had done Y.D. and +his daughter justice. He clipped the article carefully from the +sheet and folded it away in a little book on the shelf. + +Then he told himself that Zen had been swept from his mind; that +if ever they should meet--and he dallied a moment with that +possibility--they would shake hands and say some decent, insipid +things and part as people who had never met before. Only they +would know. . . . + +Grant occupied himself with the work of the ranch that winter, +spring, and summer. Occasional news of Mrs. Transley filtered +through; she was too prominent a character in that countryside to +be lost track of in a season. But anything which reached Grant +came through accidental channels; he sought no information of her, +and turned a deaf ear, almost, to what he heard. Then in the fall +came an incident which immediately changed the course of his +career. + +It came in the form of an important-looking letter with an eastern +postmark. It had been delivered with other mail at the house, and +Landson himself brought it down. Grant read it and at first stared +at it somewhat blankly, as one not taking in its full portent. + +"Not bad news, I hope?" said his employer, cloaking his curiosity +in commiseration. + +"Rather," Grant admitted, and handed him the letter. Landson read: + + +"It is our duty to place before you information which must be of a +very distressing nature, and which at the same time will have the +effect of greatly increasing your responsibilities and opportunities. +Unless you have happened to see the brief despatches which have +appeared in the Press this letter will doubtless be the first +intimation to you that your father and younger brother Roy were the +victims of a most regrettable accident while motoring on a brief +holiday in the South. The automobile in which they were travelling +was struck by a fast train, and both of them received injuries from +which they succumbed almost immediately. + +"Your father, by his will, left all his property, aside from +certain behests to charity, to his son Roy, but Roy had no will, +and as he was unmarried, and as there are no other surviving +members of the family except yourself, the entire estate, less the +behests already referred to, descends to you. We have not yet +attempted an appraisal, but you will know that the amount is very +considerable indeed. In recent years your father's business +undertakings were remarkably successful, and we think we may +conservatively suggest that the amount of the estate will be very +much greater than even you may anticipate. + +"The brokerage firm which your father founded is, temporarily, +without a head. You have had some experience in your father's +office, and as his solicitors for many years, we take the liberty +of suggesting that you should immediately assume control of the +business. A faithful staff are at present continuing it to the +best of their ability, but you will understand that a permanent +organization must be effected at as early a date as may be +possible. + +"Inability to locate you until after somewhat exhaustive inquiries +had been made explains the failure to notify you by wire in time to +permit of your attending the funeral of your father and brother, +which took place in this city on the eighth instant, and was marked +by many evidences of respect. + +"We beg to tender our very sincere sympathy, and to urge upon you +that you so arrange your affairs as to enable you to assume the +responsibilities which have, in a sense, been forced upon you, at a +very early date. In the meantime we assure you of our earnest +attention to your interests. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"BARRETT, JONES, BARRETT, DEACON & BARRETT." + + +"Well, I guess it means you've struck oil, and I've lost a good +foreman," said Landson, as he returned the letter. "I'm sorry +about your loss, Grant, and glad to hear of your good luck, if I +may put it that way." + +"No particular good luck that I can see," Grant protested. "I came +west to get away from all that bothering nuisance, and now I've got +to go back and take it all up again. I feel badly about Dad and +the kid; they were decent, only they didn't understand me. . . . I +suppose I didn't understand them, either. At any rate they didn't +wish this on me. They had quite other plans." + +"What do you reckon she's worth?" Landson asked, after waiting as +long as his patience would permit. + +"Oh, I don't know. Possibly six or eight millions by this time." + +"Six or eight millions! Jehoshaphat! What will you do with it?" + +"Look after it. Mr. Landson, you know that I have never worried +about money; if I had I wouldn't be here. I figure that the more +money a man has the greater are his responsibilities and his +troubles; worse than that, his wealth excites the jealousy of the +public and even the envy of his friends. It builds a barrier +around him, shutting out all those things which are really most +worth while. It makes him the legitimate prey of the unprincipled. +I know all these things, and it is because I know them that I +sought happiness out here on the ranges, where perhaps some people +are rich and some are poor, but they all think alike and live alike +and are part of one community and stand together in a pinch--and +out here I have found happiness. Now I'm going back to the other +job. I don't care for the money, but any son-of-a-gun who takes it +from me is a better man than I am, and I'll sit up nights at both +ends of the day to beat him at his own game. Now, just as soon as +you can line up someone to take charge I'll have to beat it." + +The news of Grant's fortune spread rapidly, and many were the +congratulations from his old cow puncher friends; congratulations, +for the most part, without a suggestion of envy in them. Grant put +his affairs in order as quickly as possible, and started for the +East with a trunkful of clothes. But even before he started one +thought had risen up to haunt him. He crushed it down, but it +would insist. If only this had happened a year ago. . . . + +Dennison Grant's mother had died in his infancy, and as soon as Roy +was old enough to go to boarding-school his father had given up +housekeeping. The club had been his home ever since. Grant +reflected on this situation with some satisfaction. He would at +least be spared the unpleasantness of discharging a houseful of +servants and disposing of the family furniture. As for the club-- +he had no notion for that. A couple of rooms in some quiet +apartment house, where he could cook a meal to his own liking as +the fancy took him; that was his picture of something as near +domestic happiness as was possible for a single man rather sadly +out of his proper environment. + +Grant reached his old home city late at night, and after a quiet +cigar and a stroll through some of the half-forgotten streets he +put up at one of the best hotels. He was deferentially shown to a +room about as large as the whole Landson house; soft lights were +burning under pink shades; his feet fell noiselessly on the thick +carpets. He placed a chair by a window, where he could watch the +myriad lights of the city, and tried to appraise the new sphere in +which he found himself. It would be a very different game from +riding the ranges or roping steers, but it would be a game, +nevertheless; a game in which he would have to stand on his own +resources even more than in those brave days in the foothills. He +relished the notion of the game even while he was indifferent to +the prize. He had no clear idea what he eventually should do with +his wealth; that was something to think about very carefully in the +days and years to come. In the meantime his job was to handle a +big business in the way it should be handled. He must first prove +his ability to make money before he showed the world how little he +valued it. + +He turned the water into his bath; there was a smell about the +towels, the linen, the soap, that was very grateful to his +nostrils. . . . + +In the morning he passed by the office of Grant & Son. He did not +turn in, but pursued his way to a door where a great brass plate +announced the law firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & +Barrett. He smiled at this elaboration of names; it represented +three generations of the Barrett family and two sons-in-law. Grant +found himself speculating over a name for the Landson ranch; it +might have been Landson, Grant, Landson, Murphy, Skinny & Pete. . . . + +He entered and inquired for Mr. Barrett, senior. + +"Mr. David Barrett, senior, sir; he's out of the city, sir; he has +not yet come in from his summer home in the mountains." + +"Then the next Mr. Barrett?" + +"Mr. David Barrett, junior, sir; he also is out of the city." + +"Have you any more Barretts?" + +"There's young Mr. Barrett, but he seldom comes down in the +forenoon, sir." + +Grant suppressed a grin. "The Barretts are a somewhat leisurely +family, I take it," he remarked. + +"They have been very successful," said the clerk, with a touch of +reserve. + +"Apparently; but who does the work?" + +"Mr. Jones is in his office. Would you care to send in your card?" + +"No, I think I'll just take it in." He pressed through a counter- +gate and opened a door upon which was emblazoned the name of Mr. +Jones. + +Mr. Jones proved to be a man with thin, iron-grey hair and a +stubby, pugnacious moustache. He sat at a desk at the end of a +long, narrow room, down both sides of which were rows of cases +filled with impressive-looking books. He did not raise his eyes +when Grant entered, but continued poring over a file of +correspondence. + +"What an existence!" Grant commented to himself. "And yet I +suppose this man thinks he's alive." + +Grant remained standing for a moment, but as the lawyer showed no +disposition to divide his attention he presently advanced to the +desk. Mr. Jones looked up. + +"You are Mr. Jones, I believe?" + +"I am, but you have the better of me--" + +"Only for the moment. You are a lawyer. You will take care of +that. I understand the firm of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & +Barrett have somewhat leisurely methods?" + +"Is the firm on trial?" inquired Mr. Jones, sharply. + +"In a sense, yes. I also understand that although all the +Barretts, and also Mr. Deacon, share in the name plate, Mr. Jones +does the work?" + +The lawyer laid down his papers. "Who the dickens are you, anyway, +and what do you want?" + +"That's better. With undivided attention we shall get there much +quicker. I have a certain amount of legal business which requires +attention, and in connection with which I am willing to pay what +the service is worth. But I'm not going to pay two generations of +Barretts which are out of the city, and a third which doesn't come +down in the forenoon. If I have to buy name plates, I'll buy name +plates of my own, and that is what I've decided to do. Do you mind +saying how much this job here is worth?" + +"Of course I do, sir. I don't understand you at all--" + +"Then I'll make myself understood. I am Dennison Grant. By force +of circumstances I find myself--" + +The lawyer had risen from his chair. "Oh, Mr. Dennison Grant! I'm +so glad--" + +Grant ignored the outstretched hand. "I'm exactly the same man who +came into your office five minutes ago, and you were too busy to +raise your eyes from your papers. It is not me to whom you are now +offering courtesy; it's to my money." + +"I am sure I beg your pardon. I didn't know--" + +"Then you will know in future. If you've got a hand on you, stick +it out, whether your visitor has any money or not." + +Grant was glaring at the lawyer across the desk, and the +pugnacious-looking moustache was beginning to bristle back. + +"Did you come in here to read me a lecture, or to get legal +advice?" the lawyer returned with some spirit. + +"I came in here on business. In the course of that business I find +it necessary to tell you where you get off at, and to ask you what +you're going to do about it." + +The lawyer came around from behind his desk. "And I'll show you," +he said, very curtly. "You've been drinking, or you're out of your +head. In either case I'm going to put you out of this room until +you are in a different frame of mind." + +"Hop to it!" said Grant, bracing himself. Jones was an oldish man, +and he had no intention of hurting him. In a moment they clenched, +and before Grant could realize what was happening he was on his +back. + +He arose quickly, laughing, and sat down in a chair. "Mr. Jones, +will you sit down? I want to talk to you." + +"If you will talk business. You were rude to me." + +"Perhaps. For my rudeness I apologize. But I was not untruthful. +And I wanted to find something out. I found it." + +"What?" + +"Whether you had any sand in you. You have, and considerable +muscle, or knack, as well. I'm not saying you could do it again--" + +"Well, what is this all about?" + +"Simply this. If I am to manage the business of Grant & Son I +shall need legal advice of the highest order, and I want it from a +man with red blood in him--I should be afraid of any other advice. +What is your price? You understand, you leave this firm and think +of nothing, professionally, but what I pay you for." + +Mr. Jones had seated himself, and the pugnacious moustache was +settling back into a less hostile attitude. + +"You are quite serious?" + +"Quite. You see, I know nothing about business. It is true I +spent some time in my father's office, but I never had much heart +for it. I went west to get away from it. Fate has forced it back +upon my hands. Well--I'm not a piker, and I mean to show Fate that +I can handle the job. To do so I must have the advice of a man who +knows the game. I want a man who can look over a bond issue, or +whatever it is, and tell me at a glance whether it's spavined or +wind-broken. I want a man who can sense out the legal badger- +holes, and who won't let me gallop over a cutbank. I want a man +who has not only brains to back up his muscle, but who also has +muscle to back up his brains. To be quite frank, I didn't think +you were the man. I had no doubt you had the legal ability, or you +wouldn't be guiding the affairs of this five-cylinder firm, but I +was afraid you didn't have the fight in you. I picked a quarrel +with you to find out, and you showed me, for which I am much +obliged. By the way, how do you do it?" + +Before answering Mr. Jones got up, walked around behind his desk, +unlocked a drawer and produced a box of cigars. + +"That's a mistake you Westerners make," he remarked, when they had +lighted up. "You think the muscle is all out there, just as some +Easterners will admit that the brains are all down here. Both are +wrong. Life at a desk calls for an antidote, and two nights a week +keep me in form. I wrestled a bit when I was a boy, but I haven't +had a chance to try out my skill in a long while. I rather +welcomed the opportunity." + +"I noticed that. Well--what's she worth?" + +Mr. Jones ruminated. "I wouldn't care to break with the firm," he +said at length. "There are family ties as well as those of +business. A year's leave of absence might be arranged. By that +time you would be safe in your saddle. By the way, do you propose +to hire all your staff by the same test?" + +Grant smiled. "I don't expect to hire any more staff. I presume +there is already a complete organization, doubtless making money +for me at this very moment. I will not interfere except when +necessary, but I want a man like you to tell me when it is +necessary." + +Terms were agreed upon, and Mr. Jones asked only the remainder of +the week to clean up important matters on hand. Telegrams were +despatched to Mr. David Barrett, senior, and Mr. David Barrett, +junior, and Jones in some way managed to convey the delicate +information to young Mr. Barrett that a morning appearance on his +part would henceforth be essential. Grant decided to fill in the +interval with a little fishing expedition. He was determined that +he would not so much as call at the office of Grant & Son until +Jones could accompany him. "A tenderfoot like me would stampede +that bunch in no time," he warned himself. + +When he finally did appear at the office he was received with a +deference amounting almost to obeisance. Murdoch, the chief clerk, +and manager of the business in all but title, who had known him in +the old days when he had been "Mr. Denny," bore him into the +private office which had for so many years been the sacred recess +of the senior Grant. Only big men or trusted employees were in the +habit of passing those silent green doors. + +"Well Murdy, old boy, how goes it?" Grant had said when they met, +taking his hand in a husky grip. + +"Not so bad, sir; not so bad, considering the shock of the +accident, sir. And we are all so glad to see you--we who knew you +before, sir." + +"Listen, Murdy," said Grant. "What's the idea of all the sirs?" + +"Why," said the somewhat abashed official, "you know you are now +the head of the firm, sir." + +"Quite so. Because a chauffeur neglected to look over his shoulder +I am converted from a cow puncher to a sir. Well, go easy on it. +If a man has native dignity in him he doesn't need it piled on from +outside." + +"Very true, sir. I hope you will be comfortable here. Some +memorable matters have been transacted within these walls, sir. +Let me take your hat and cane." + +"Cane? What cane?" + +"Your stick, sir; didn't you have a stick?" + +"What for? Have you rattlers here? Oh, I see--more dignity. No, +I don't carry a stick. Perhaps when I'm old--" + +"You'll have to try and accommodate yourself to our manners," said +Jones, when Murdoch had left the room. "They may seem unnecessary, +or even absurd, but they are sanctioned by custom, and, you know, +civilization is built on custom. The poet speaks of a freedom +which 'slowly broadens down from precedent to precedent.' +Precedent is custom. Never defy custom, or you will find her your +master. Humor her, and she will be your slave. Now I think I +shall leave, while you try and tune yourself to the atmosphere of +these surroundings. I need hardly warn you that the furniture is-- +quite valuable." + +Grant saw him out with a friendly grip on his arm. "You will need +another course of wrestling lessons presently," he warned him. + +So this was the room which had been the inner shrine of the firm of +Grant & Son. The quarters were new since he had left the East; the +furnishings revealed that large simplicity which is elegance and +wealth. A painting of the elder Grant hung from the wall; Dennison +stood before it, looking into the sad, capable, grey eyes. What +had life brought to his father that was worth the price those eyes +reflected? Dennison found his own eyes moistening with memories +now strangely poignant. . . . + +"Environment," the young man murmured, as he turned from the +portrait, "environment, master of everything! And yet--" + +A photograph of Roy stood on the mantelpiece, and beside it, in a +little silver frame, was one of his mother. . . . Grant pulled +himself together and fell to an examination of the papers in his +father's desk. + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Grant's first concern was to get a grasp of the business affairs +which had so unexpectedly come under his direction. To accomplish +this he continued the practice of the Landson ranch; he was up +every morning at five, and had done a day's work before the members +of his staff began to assemble. For advice he turned to Jones and +Murdoch, and the management of routine affairs he left entirely in +the hands of the latter. He had soon convinced himself that the +camaraderie of the ranch would not work in a staff of this kind, so +while he was formulating plans of his own he left the administration +to Murdoch. He found this absence of companionship the most +unpleasant feature of his position; it seemed that his wealth had +elevated him out of the human family. He wavered between amusement +and annoyance over the deference that was paid him. Some of the +staff were openly terrified at his approach. + +Not so Miss Bruce. Miss Bruce had tapped on the door and entered +with the words, "I was your father's stenographer. He left +practically all his personal correspondence to me. I worked at +this desk in the corner, and had a private office through the door +there into which I slipped when my absence was preferred." + +She had crossed the room, and, instead of standing respectfully +before Grant's desk, had come around the end of it. Grant looked +up with some surprise, and noted that her features were not without +commending qualities. The mouth, a little large, perhaps-- + +"How do you think you're going to like your job?" she asked. + +Grant swung around quickly in his chair. No one in the staff had +spoken to him like that; Murdoch himself would not have dared +address him in so familiar a manner. He decided to take a firm +position. + +"Were you in the habit of speaking to my father like that?" + +"Your father was a man well on in years, Mr. Grant. Every man +according to his age." + +"I am the head of the firm." + +"That is so," she assented. "But if it were not for me and the +others on your pay roll there would be no firm to require a head, +and you'd be out of a job. You see, we are quite as essential to +you as you are to us." + +Grant looked at her keenly. Whatever her words, he had to admit +that her tone was not impertinent. She had a manner of stating a +fact, rather than engaging in an argument. There was nothing +hostile about her. She had voiced these sentiments in as matter- +of-fact a way as if she were saying, "It's raining out; you had +better take your umbrella." + +"You appear to be a very advanced young woman," he remarked. "I am +a little surprised--I had hardly thought my father would select +young women of your type as his confidential secretaries." + +"Private stenographer," she corrected. "A little extra side on a +title is neither here nor there. Well, I will admit that I rather +took your father's breath at times; he discharged me so often it +became a habit, but we grew to have a sort of tacit understanding +that that was just his way of blowing off steam. You see, I did +his work, and I did it right. I never lost my head when he got +into a temper; I could always read my notes even after he had spent +most of the day in death grips with some business rival. You see, +I wasn't afraid of him, not the least bit. And I'm not afraid of +you." + +"I don't believe you are," Grant admitted. "You are a remarkable +woman. I think we shall get along all right if you are able to +distinguish between independence and bravado." He turned to his +desk, then suddenly looked up again. He was homesick for someone +he could talk to frankly. + +"I don't mind telling you," he said abruptly, "that the deference +which is being showered upon me around this institution gives me a +good deal of a pain. I've been accustomed to working with men on +the same level. They took their orders from me, and they carried +them out, but the older hands called me by my first name, and any +of them swore back when he thought he had occasion. I can't fit +in to this 'Yes sir,' 'No sir,' 'Very good, sir,' way of doing +business. It doesn't ring true." + +"I know what you mean," she said. "There's too much servility in +it. And yet one may pay these courtesies and not be servile. I +always 'sir'd' your father, and he knew I did it because I wanted +to, not because I had to. And I shall do the same with you once we +understand each other. The position I want to make clear is this: +I don't admit that because I work for you I belong to a lower order +of the human family than you do, and I don't admit that, aside from +the giving of faithful service, I am under any obligation to you. +I give you my labor, worth so much; you pay me; we're square. If +we can accept that as an understanding I'm ready to begin work now; +if not, I'm going out to look for another job." + +"I think we can accept that as a working basis," he agreed. + +She produced notebook and pencil. "Very well, SIR. Do you wish to +dictate?" + +The selection of a place to call home was a matter demanding +Grant's early attention. He discussed it with Mr. Jones. + +"Of course you will take memberships in some of the better clubs," +the lawyer had suggested. "It's the best home life there is. That +is why it is not to be recommended to married men; it has a +tendency to break up the domestic circle." + +"But it will cost more than I can afford." + +"Nonsense! You could buy out one of their clubs, holus-bolus, if +you wanted to." + +"You don't quite get me," said Grant. "If I used the money which +was left by my father, or the income from the business, no doubt I +could do as you say. But I feel that that money isn't really mine. +You see, I never earned it, and I don't see how a person can, +morally, spend money that he did not earn." + +"Then there are a great many immoral people in the world," the +lawyer observed, dryly. + +"I am disposed to agree with you," said Grant, somewhat pointedly. +"But I don't intend that they shall set my standards." + +"You have your salary. That comes under the head of earnings, if +you are finnicky about the profits. What do you propose to pay +yourself?" + +"I have been thinking about that. On the ranch I got a hundred +dollars a month, and board." + +"Well, your father got twenty thousand a year, and Roy half that, +and if they wanted more they charged it up as expenses." + +"Considering the cost of board here, I think I would be justified +in taking two hundred dollars a month," Grant continued. + +Jones got up and took the young man by the shoulders. "Look here, +Grant, you're not taking yourself seriously. I don't want to +assail your pet theories--you'll grow out of them in time--but you +hired me to give you advice, and right here I advise you not to +make a fool of yourself. You are now in a big position; you're a +big man, and you've got to live in a big way. If for nothing else +than to hold the confidence of the public you must do it. Do you +think they're going to intrust their investments to a firm headed +by a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man?" + +"But I AM a two-hundred-dollar-a-month man. In fact, I'm not sure +I'm worth quite that much. I've got no more muscle, and no more +sense, and very little more experience than I had a month ago, when +in the open market my services commanded a hundred and board." + +"When a man is big enough--or his job is big enough--" Jones +argued, "he arises above the ordinary law of supply and demand. In +fact, in a sense, he controls supply and demand. He puts himself +in the job and dictates the salary. You have a perfect right to +pay yourself what other men in similar positions are getting. +Besides, as I said, you'll have to do so for the credit of the +firm. Do you call a doctor who lives in a tumble-down tenement? +You do not. You call one from a fine home; you select him for his +appearance of prosperity, regardless of the fact that he may have +mortgaged his future to create that appearance, and of the further +fact that he will charge you a fee calculated to help pay off the +mortgage. When you want a lawyer, do you seek some garret +practitioner? You do not. You go to a big building, with a big +name plate"--the pugnacious moustache gave hint of a smile +gathering beneath--"and you pay a big price for a man with an +office full of imposing-looking books, not a tenth part of which he +has ever read, or intends ever to read. I admit there's a good +deal of bunco in the game, but if you sit in you've got to play it +that way, or the dear public will throw you into the discard. Many +a man who votes himself a salary in five figures--or gets a +friendly board of directors to do it for him--if thrown unfriended +between the millstones of supply and demand probably couldn't +qualify for your modest hundred dollars a month and board. But he +has risen into a different world; instead of being dictated to, he +dictates. That is your position, Grant. Look at it sensibly." + +"Nevertheless, I shall get along on two hundred a month. If I find +it necessary in order to protect the interests of the business to +take a membership in an expensive club, or commit any other +extravagance, I shall do so, and charge it up as a business +expense. Besides, I think I can be happier that way." + +"And in the meantime your business is piling up profits. What are +you going to do with them? Give them away?" + +"No. That, too, is immoral--whether it be a quarter to a beggar or +a library to a city. It feeds the desire to get money without +earning it, which is the most immoral of all our desires. I have +not yet decided what I shall do with it. I have hired an expert, +in you, to show me how to make money. I shall probably find it +necessary to hire another to show me how to dispose of it. But not +a dollar will be given away." + +"And so you would let the beggar starve? That's a new kind of +altruism." + +"No. I would correct the conditions that made him a beggar. +That's the only kind of altruism that will make him something +better than a beggar." + +"Some people would beg in any case, Grant. They are incapable of +anything better." + +"Then they are defectives, and should be cared for by the State." + +"Then the State may practise charity--" + +"It is not charity; it is the discharge of an obligation. A father +may support his children, but he must not let anyone else do it." + +"Well, I give up," said Jones. "You're beyond me." + +Grant laughed and extended a cigar box. "Don't hesitate," he said, +"this doesn't come out of the two hundred. This is entertainment +expense. And you must come and see me when I get settled." + +"When you get settled--yes. You won't be settled until you're +married, and you might as well do some thinking about that. A man +in your position gets a pretty good range of choice; you'd be +surprised if you knew the wire-pulling I have already encountered; +ambitious old dames fishing for introductions for their daughters. +You may be an expert with rope or branding-iron, but you're +outclassed in this matrimonial game, and some one of them will land +you one of these times before you know it. You should be very +proud," and Mr. Jones struck something of an attitude. "The youth +and beauty of the city are raving about you." + +"About my money," Grant retorted. "If my father had had time to +change his will they would every one of them have passed me by with +their noses in the air. As for marrying--that's all off." + +The lawyer was about to aim a humorous sally, but something in +Grant's appearance closed his lips. "Very well, I'll come and see +you if you say when," he agreed. + +Grant found what he wanted in a little apartment house on a side +street, overlooking the lake. Here was a place where the vision +could leap out without being beaten back by barricades of stone and +brick. He rested his eyes on the distance, and assured the +inveigling landlady that the rooms would do, and he would arrange +for decorating at his own expense. There was a living-room, about +the size of his shack on the Landson ranch; a bathroom, and a +kitchenette, and the rent was twenty-two dollars a month. A +decorator was called in to repaper the bathroom and kitchenette, but +for the living-room Grant engaged a carpenter. He ordered that the +inside of the room should be boarded up with rough boards, with +exposed scantlings on the walls and ceiling. No doubt the tradesman +thought his patron mad, or nearly so, but his business was to obey +orders, and when the job was completed it presented a very passable +duplicate of Grant's old quarters on the ranch. He had spared the +fireplace, as a concession to comfort. When he had gotten his +personal effects out of storage, when he had hung rifle, saddle and +lariat from spikes in the wall; had built a little book-shelf and +set his old favorites upon it; had installed his bed and the trunk +with the big D. G.; sitting in his arm chair before the fire, with +Fidget's nose snuggled companionably against his foot, he would not +have traded his quarters for the finest suite in the most expensive +club in the city. Here was something at least akin to home. + +As he was arranging the books on his shelf the clipping with the +account of Zen's wedding fell to the floor. He sat down in his +chair and read it slowly through. Later he went out for a walk. + +It was in his long walks that Grant found the only real comfort of +his new life. To be sure, it was not like roaming the foothills; +there was not the soft breath of the Chinook, nor the deep silence +of the mighty valleys. But there was movement and freedom and a +chance to think. The city offered artificial attractions in which +the foothills had not competed; faultlessly kept parks and lawns; +splashes of perfume and color; spraying fountains and vagrant +strains of music. He reflected that some merciful principle of +compensation has made no place quite perfect and no place entirely +undesirable. He remembered also the toll of his life in the +saddle; the physical hardship, the strain of long hours and broken +weather. And here, too, in a different way, he was in the saddle, +and he did not know which strain was the greater. He was beginning +to have a higher regard for the men in the saddle of business. The +world saw only their success, or, it may be, their pretence of +success. But there was a different story from all that, which each +one of them could have told for himself. + +On this evening when his mind had been suddenly turned into old +channels by the finding of the newspaper clipping dealing with the +wedding of Y.D.'s daughter, Grant walked far into the outskirts of +the city, paying little attention to his course. It was late +October; the leaves lay thick on the sidewalks and through the +parks; there was in all the air that strange, sad, sweet dreariness +of the dying summer. . . . Grant had tried heroically to keep his +thoughts away from Transley's wife. The past had come back on him, +had rather engulfed him, in that little newspaper clipping. He let +himself wonder where she was, and whether nearly a year of married +life had shown her the folly of her decision. He took it for +granted that her decision had been folly, and he arrived at that +position without any reflection upon Transley. Only--Zen had been +in love with him, with him, Dennison Grant! Sooner or later she +must discover the tragedy of that fact, and yet he told himself he +was big enough to hope she might never discover it. It would be +best that she should forget him, as he had--almost--forgotten her. +There was no doubt that would be best. And yet there was a +delightful sadness in thinking of her still, and hoping that some +day-- He was never able to complete the thought. + +He had been walking down a street of modest homes; the bare trees +groped into a sky clear and blue with the first chill presage of +winter. A quick step fell unheeded by his side; the girl passed, +hesitated, then turned and spoke. + +"You are preoccupied, Mr. Grant." + +"Oh, Miss Bruce, I beg your pardon. I am glad to see you." Even +at that moment he had been thinking of Zen, and perhaps he put more +cordiality into his words than he intended. But he had grown to +have considerable regard, on her own account, for this unusual girl +who was not afraid of him. He had found that she was what he +called "a good head." She could take a detached view; she was +absolutely fair; she was not easily flustered. + +Her step had fallen into swing with his. + +"You do not often visit our part of the city," she essayed. + +"You live here?" + +"Near by. Will you come and see?" + +He turned with her at a corner, and they went up a narrow street +lying deep in dead leaves. Friendly domestic glimpses could be +caught through unblinded windows. + +"This is our home," she said, stopping before a little gate. +Grant's eye followed the pathway to a cottage set back among the +trees. "I live here with my sister and brother and mother. Father +is dead," she went on hurriedly, as though wishing to place before +him a quick digest of the family affairs, "and we keep up the home +by living on with mother as boarders; that is, Grace and I do. +Hubert is still in high school. Won't you come in?" + +He followed her up the path and into a little hall, lighted only by +chance rays falling through a half-opened door. She did not switch +on the current, and Grant was aware of a comfortable sense of her +nearness, quite distinct from any office experience, as she took +his hat. In the living-room her mother received him with visible +surprise. She was not old, but widowhood and the cares of a young +family had whitened her hair before its time. + +"We are glad to see you, Mr. Grant," she said. "It is an +unexpected pleasure. Big business men do not often--" + +"Mr. Grant is different," her daughter interrupted, lightly. "I +found him wandering the streets and I just--retrieved him." + +"I think I AM different," he admitted, as his eye took in the +surroundings, which he appraised quickly as modest comfort, +attained through many little economies and makeshifts. "You are +very happy here," he went on, frankly. "Much more so, I should +say, than in many of the more pretentious homes. I have always +contended that, beyond the margin necessary for decent living, the +possession of money is a burden and a handicap, and I see no reason +to change my opinion." + +"Phyllis is a great help to me--and Grace," the mother observed. +"I hope she is a good girl in the office." + +Grant was hurrying an assent but the girl interrupted, perhaps +wishing to relieve him of the necessity of an answer. + +"'Decent living' is a very elastic term," she remarked. "There are +so many standards. Some women think they must have maids and +social status--whatever that is--and so on. It can't be done on +mother's income." + +"That quality is not confined to women," Grant said. "I know I am +regarded as something of a freak because I prefer to live simply. +They can't understand my preference for a plain room to read and +sleep in, for quiet walks by myself when I might be buzzing around +in big motor cars or revelling with a bunch at the club. I suppose +it's a puzzle to them." + +Miss Bruce had seated herself near him. "They are beginning to +offer explanations," she said. "I hear them--such things always +filter down. They say you are mean and niggardly--that you're +afraid to spend a dollar. The fact that you have raised the wages +of your staff doesn't seem to answer them; they rather hold that +against you, because it has a tendency to make them do the same. +Other office staffs are going to their heads and saying, 'Grant is +paying his help so much.' That doesn't popularize you. To be a +good fellow you should hold your staff down to the lowest wages at +which you can get service, and the money you save in this way +should be spent with gusto and abandon at expensive hotels and +other places designed to keep rich people from getting too rich." + +"I am afraid you are satirizing them a little, but there is a good +deal in what you say. They think I'm mean because they don't +understand me, and they can't understand my point of view. I +believe that money was created as a medium for the exchange of +value. I think they will all agree with me there. If that is so, +then I have no right to money unless I have given value for it, and +that is where they part company with me; but surely we can't accept +the one fact without the other." + +Grant found himself thumbing his pockets. "You may smoke, if you +have tobacco," said Mrs. Bruce. "My husband smoked, and although I +did not approve of it then, I think I must have grown to like it." + +He lighted a cigarette, and continued. "Not all the moral law was +given on Mount Sinai. It seems to me that the supernaturalism +which has been introduced into the story of the Ten Commandments is +most unfortunate. It seems to remove them out of the field of +natural law, whereas they are, really, natural law itself. No +social state can exist where they are habitually ignored. But of +course these natural laws existed long before Moses. He did not +make the law; he discovered it, just as Newton discovered the law +of gravitation. Well--there must be many other natural laws, still +undiscovered, or at least unaccepted. The thing is to discover +them, to obey them, and, eventually, to compel others to obey them. +I am no Moses, but I think I have the germ of the law which would +cure our economic ills--that no person should be allowed to receive +value without earning it. Because I believed in that I gave up a +fortune and went to work as a laborer on a ranch, but Fate has +forced wealth upon me, doubtless in order that I may prove out my +own theories. Well, that is what I am doing." + +"It shouldn't be hard to get rid of money if you don't want it," +Mrs. Bruce ventured. + +"But it is. It is the hardest kind of thing. You see, I am +limited by my principles. I believe it is morally wrong to receive +money without earning it; consequently I cannot give it away, as by +doing so I would place the recipient in that position. I believe +it is morally wrong to spend on myself money which I have not +earned; consequently I can spend only what I conceive to be a +reasonable return for my services. Meanwhile, my wealth keeps +rolling up." + +"It's a knotty problem," said Phyllis. "I think there is only one +solution." + +"And that is?--" + +"Marry a woman who is a good spender." + +At this moment Grace and Hubert came in from the picture-show +together, and the conversation turned to lighter topics. Mrs. +Bruce insisted on serving tea and cake, and when Grant found that +he must go Phyllis accompanied him to the gate. + +"This all seems so funny," she was saying. "You are a very +remarkable man." + +"I think I once passed a similar opinion about you." + +She extended her hand, and he held it for a moment. "I have not +changed my first opinion," he said, as he released her fingers and +turned quickly down the pavement. + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Grant's first visit to the home of his private stenographer was not +his last, and the news leaked out, as it is sure to do in such +cases. The social set confessed to being on the point of being +shocked. Two schools of criticism developed over the five o'clock +tea tables; one held that Grant was a gay dog who would settle down +and marry in his class when he had had his fling, and the other +that Phyllis Bruce was an artful hussy who was quite ready to sell +herself for the Grant millions. And there were so many eligible +young women on the market, although none of them were described as +artful hussies! + +Grant's behavior, however, placed him under no cloud in so far as +social opportunities were concerned; on the contrary, he found +himself being showered with invitations, most of which he managed +to decline on the grounds of pressure of business. When such an +excuse would have been too transparent he accepted and made the +best of it, and he found no lack of encouragement in the one or two +incipient amorous flurries which resulted. From such positions he +always succeeded in extricating himself, with a quiet smile at the +vagaries of life. He had to admit that some of the young women +whom he had met had charms of more than passing moment; he might +easily enough find himself chasing the rainbow. . . . + +Mrs. LeCord carried the warfare into his own office. The late Mr. +LeCord had left her to face the world with a comfortable fortune +and three daughters, of whom the youngest was now married and the +oldest was a forlorn hope. To place the second was now her +purpose, and the best bargain on the market was young Grant. +Caroline, she was sure, would make a very acceptable wife, and the +young lady herself confessed a belief that she could love even a +bold Westerner whose bank balance was expressed in seven figures. + +The fact that Grant avoided social functions only added zest to the +determination with which Mrs. LeCord carried the war into his own +office. She chose to consult him for advice on financial matters +and she came accompanied by Caroline, a young woman rather +prepossessing in her own right. The two were readily admitted into +Grant's private office, where they had opportunity not only to meet +the young man in person, but to satisfy their curiosity concerning +the Bruce girl. + +"I am Mrs. LeCord, Mr. Grant," the lady introduced herself. "This +is my daughter Caroline. We wish to consult you on certain +financial matters, privately, if you please." + +Grant received them cordially. "I shall be glad to advise you, if +I can," he said. + +Mrs. LeCord cast a significant glance at Phyllis Bruce. + +"Miss Bruce is my private stenographer. You may speak with perfect +freedom." + +Mrs. LeCord took up her subject after a moment's silence. "Mr. +LeCord left me not entirely unprovided for," she explained. +"Almost a million dollars in bonds and real estate made a +comfortable protection for me and my three daughters against the +buffetings of a world which, as you may have found, Mr. Grant, is +not over-considerate." + +"The buffetings of the world are an excellent training for the +world's affairs." + +"Maybe so, maybe so," his visitor conceded. "However, there are +other trainings--trainings of finer quality, Mr. Grant--than those +which have to do with subsistence. I have been able to give my +daughters the best education that money could command, and, if I do +say it, I permit myself some gratification over the result. Gretta +is comfortably and happily married,--a young man of some distinction +in the financial world--a Mr. Powers, Mr. Newton Powers--you may +happen to know him; Madge, I think, is always going to be her +mother's girl; Caroline is still heart-free, although one can never +tell--" + +"Oh, mother!" the girl protested, blushing daintily. + +"I said you could never tell, Mr. Grant,--while handsome young men +like yourself are at large. Mrs. LeCord laughed heartily, as much +as to say that her remark must be regarded only as a little +pleasantry. "But you will think I am a gossipy old body," she +continued briskly. "I really came to discuss certain financial +matters. Since Mr. LeCord's death I have taken charge of all the +family business affairs with, if I may confess it, some success. +We have lived, and my girls have been educated, and our little +reserve against a rainy day has been almost doubled, in addition to +giving Gretta a hundred thousand in her own right on the occasion +of her marriage. Caroline is to have the same, and when I am done +with it there will be a third of the estate for each. In the +meantime I am directing my investments as wisely as I can. I want +my daughters to be provided for, quite apart from any income +marriage may bring them. I should be greatly humiliated to think +that any daughter of mine would be dependent upon her husband for +support. On the contrary, I mean that they shall bring to their +husbands a sum which will be an appreciable contribution toward the +family fortune." + +"If I can help you in any way in your financial matters--" Grant +suggested. + +"Oh, yes, we must get back to that. How I wander! I'm afraid, Mr. +Grant, I must be growing old." + +Grant protested gallantly against such conclusion, and Mrs. LeCord, +after asking his opinion on certain issues shortly to be floated, +arose to leave. + +"You must find life in this city somewhat lonely, Mr. Grant," she +murmured as she drew on her gloves. "If ever you find a longing +for a quiet hour away from business stress--a little domesticity, +if I may say it--our house--" + +"You are very kind. Business allows me very few intermissions. +Still--" + +She extended her hand with her sweetest smile. Caroline shook +hands, too, and Grant bowed them out. + +On other occasions Mrs. LeCord and her daughter were fortunate +enough to find Grant alone, and at such times the mother's +conversation became even more pointed than in their first +interview. Grant hesitated to offend her, mainly on account of +Caroline, for whom he admitted to himself it would not be at all +difficult to muster up an attachment. There were, however, three +barriers to such a development. One was the obvious purpose of +Mrs. LeCord to arrange a match; a purpose which, as a mere matter +of the game, he could not allow her to accomplish. One was Zen +Transley. There was no doubt about it. Zen Transley stood between +him and marriage to any girl. Not that he ever expected to take +her into his life, or be admitted into hers, but in some way she +hedged him about. He felt that everything was not yet settled; he +found himself entertaining a foolish sense that everything was not +quite irrevocable. . . . And then there was--perhaps--Phyllis +Bruce. + +When at length, for some reason, Mrs. LeCord visited him alone he +decided to be frank with her. + +"You have thought me clever enough to advise you on financial +matters?" he queried, when his visitor had discussed at some length +the new loan in which she was investing. + +"Why, yes," she returned, detecting the personal note in his voice. +"I sometimes think, Mr. Grant, you hardly do yourself justice. +Even the hardest old heads on the Exchange are taking notice of +you. I have heard your name mentioned--" + +"Then it may be presumed," he interrupted, "that I am clever enough +to know the real purpose of your visits to this office?" + +She turned a little in her chair, facing him squarely. "I hardly +understand you, Mr. Grant." + +"Then I possess an advantage, because I quite clearly understand +you. I have hesitated, out of consideration for your daughter, to +show any resentment of your behavior. But I must now tell you that +when I marry, if ever I do, I shall choose my wife without the +assistance of her mother, and without regard to her dowry or the +size of the family bank account." + +"Oh, I protest!" exclaimed Mrs. LeCord, who had grown very red. "I +protest against any such conclusion. I have seen fit to intrust my +financial affairs to your firm; I have visited you on business-- +accompanied at times by my daughter, it is true--but only on +business; recognizing in you a social equal I have invited you to +my house, a courtesy which, so far, you have not found yourself +able to accept; but in all this I have shown toward you surely +nothing but friendliness and a respect amounting, if I may say it, +to esteem. But now that you are frank, Mr. Grant, I too will be +frank. You cannot be unaware of the rumors which have been +associated with your name?" + +"You mean about Miss Bruce?" + +"Ah, then you know of them. You are a young man, and we older +people are disposed to make allowance for the--for that. But you +must realize the great mistake you would be making should you allow +this matter to become more than--a rumor." + +"I do not admit your right to question me on such a subject, Mrs. +LeCord, but I shall not avoid a discussion of it. Suppose, for the +sake of argument, that I were to contemplate marriage with Miss +Bruce; if she and her relatives were agreeable, what right would +anyone have to object?" + +"It would be a great mistake," Mrs. LeCord insisted, avoiding his +question. "She is not in your class--" + +"What do you mean by 'class'?" + +"Why, I mean socially, of course. She lives in a different world. +She has no standing, in a social way. She works in an office for a +living--" + +"So do I," he interrupted, "and your daughters do not. It would +therefore appear that I am more in Miss Bruce's 'class' than in +theirs." + +"Ah, but you are an employer. You direct things. You work because +you want to, not because you have to. That makes a difference." + +"Apparently it does. Well, if I had my way, everybody would work, +whether he wanted to or not. I would not allow any healthy man to +spend money which he had not earned by the sweat of his own brow. +I am convinced that that is the only economic system which is sound +at the bottom, but it would destroy 'class,' as at present +organized, so 'class' must fight it." + +"I am afraid you are rather radical, Mr. Grant. You may be sure +that a system which has served so long and so well is a good +system." + +"That introduces the clash between East and West. The East says +because things are so, and have always been so, they must be right. +The West says because things are so, and have always been so, they +are in all probability wrong. I guess I am a Westerner." + +"You should not allow your theories of economics to stand in the +way of your success," Mrs. LeCord pursued. "Suppose I admit that +Caroline would not be altogether deaf to your advances. Suppose I +admit that much. Allowing for a mother's prejudice, will you not +agree with me that Caroline has her attractions? She is well bred, +well educated, and not without appearance. She belongs to the +smartest set in town. Her circle would bring you not only social +distinction, but valuable business connections. She would +introduce that touch of refinement--" + +But Grant, now thoroughly angry, had risen from his chair. "You +speak of refinement," he exclaimed, in the quick, sharp tones which +alone revealed the fighting Grant;--"you, who have been guilty of-- +I could use a very ugly word which I will give you the credit of +not understanding. When I decide to buy myself a wife I will send +to you for a catalogue of your daughter's charms." + +Grant dismissed Mrs. LeCord from his office with the confident +expectation that he soon would have occasion to know something of +the meaning of the proverb about hell's furies and a woman scorned. +She would strike at him, of course, through Phyllis Bruce. Well-- + +But his attention was at once to be turned to very different +matters. A stock market, erratic for some days, went suddenly into +a paroxysm. Grant escaped with as little loss as possible for +himself and his clients, and after three sleepless nights called +his staff together. They crowded into the board-room, curious, +apprehensive, almost frightened, and he looked over them with an +emotion that was quite new to his experience. Even in the +aloofness which their standards had made it necessary for him to +adopt there had grown up in his heart, quite unnoticed, a tender, +sweet foliage of love for these men and women who were a part of +his machine. Now, as he looked in their faces he realized how, +like little children, they leaned on him--how, like little +children, they feared his power and his displeasure--how, perhaps, +like little children, they had learned to love him, too. He +realized, as he had never done before, that they WERE children; +that here and there in the mass of humanity is one who was born to +lead, but the great mass itself must be children always, doing as +they are bid. + +"My friends," he managed to say, "we suddenly find ourselves in +tremendous times. Some of you know my attitude toward this +business in which we are engaged. I did not seek it; I did not +approve of it; I tried to avoid it; yet, when the responsibility +was forced upon me I accepted that responsibility. I gave up the +life I enjoyed, the environment in which I found delight, the +friends I loved. Well--our nation is now in a somewhat similar +position. It has to go into a business which it did not seek, of +which it does not approve, but which fate has thrust upon it. It +has to break off the current of its life and turn it into +undreamed-of channels, and we, as individuals who make up the +nation, must do the same. I have already enlisted, and expect that +within a few hours I shall be in uniform. Some of you are single +men of military age; you will, I am sure, take similar steps. For +the rest--the business will be wound up as soon as possible, so +that you may be released for some form of national service. You +will all receive three months' salary in lieu of notice. Mr. +Murdoch will look after the details. When that has been done my +wealth, or such part of it as remains, will be placed at the +disposal of the Government. If we win it will be well invested in +a good cause; if we lose, it would have been lost anyway." + +"We are not going to lose!" It was one of the younger clerks who +interrupted; he stood up and for a moment looked straight at his +chief. In that instant's play of vision there was surely something +more than can be told in words, for the next moment he rushed +forward and seized one of Grant's hands in both his own. There was +a moment's handclasp, and the boy had become a man. + +"I'm going, Grant," he said. "I'm going--NOW!" + +He turned and made his way out of the room, leaving his chief +breathless in a rapture of joy and pride. Others crowded up. They +too were going--NOW. Even old Murdoch tried to protest that he was +as good a man as ever. It seemed to Grant that the drab everyday +costumings of his staff had fallen away, and now they were heroes, +they were gods! + +No one knew just how the meeting broke up, but Grant had a confused +remembrance of many handclasps and some tears. He was not sure +that he had not, perhaps, added one or two to the flow, but they +were all tears of friendship and of an emotion born of high +resolve. . . . The most wonderful thing was that the youngster had +called him Grant! + +As he stood in his own office again, trying to get the events of +these last few days into some sort of perspective, Phyllis Bruce +entered. He motioned dumbly to a chair, but she came and stood by +his desk. Her face was very white and her lips trembled with the +words she tried to utter. + +"I can't go," she managed to say at length. + +"Can't go? I don't understand?" + +"Hubert has joined," she said. + +"Hubert, the boy! Why, he is only in school--" + +"He is sixteen, and large for his age. He came home confessing, +and saying it was his first lie, and the first important thing he +ever did without consulting mother. He said he knew he wouldn't be +able to stand it if he told her first." + +"Foolish, but heroic," Grant commented. "Be proud of him. It +takes more than wisdom to be heroic." + +"And Grace is going to England. She was taking nursing, you know, +and so gets a preference. We can't ALL leave mother." + +He found it difficult to speak. "You wanted to go to the Front?" +he managed. + +"Of course; where else?" + +Her hand was on the desk; his own slipped over until it closed on +it. + +"You are a little heroine," he murmured. + +"No, I'm not. I'm a little fool to tell you this, but how can I +stay--why should I stay--when you are gone?" + +She was looking down, but after her confession she raised her eyes +to his, and he wondered that he had never known how beautiful she +was. He could have taken her in his arms, but something, with the +power of invisible chains, held him back. In that supreme moment a +vision swam before him; a vision of a mountain stream backed by +tawny foothills, and a girl as beautiful as even this Phyllis who +had wrapped him in her arms . . . and said, "We must go and +forget." And he had not forgotten. . . . + +When he did not respond she drew herself slowly away. "You will +hate me," she said. + +"That is impossible," he corrected, quickly. "I am very sorry if I +have let you think more than I intended. I care for you very, very +much indeed. I care for you so much that I will not let you think +I care for you more. Can you understand that?" + +"Yes. You like me, but you love someone else." + +He was disconcerted by her intuition and the terse frankness with +which she stated the case. + +"I will take you into my confidence, Phyllis, if I may," he said at +length. "I DO like you; I DID love someone else. And that old +attachment is still so strong that it would be hardly fair--it +would be hardly fair--" + +"Why didn't you marry her?" she demanded. + +"Because some one else did." + +"Oh!" + +Her hands found his this time. "I'm sorry," she said. "Sorry I +brought this up--sorry I raised these memories. But now you--who +have known--will know--" + +"I know--I know," he murmured, raising her fingers to his lips. . . . + +"Time, they say, is a healer of all wounds. Perhaps--" + +"No. It is better that you should forget. Only, I shall see you +off; I shall wave my handkerchief to YOU; I shall smile on YOU in +the crowd. Then--you will forget." . . . + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Four years of war add only four years to the life of a man +according to the record in the family Bible, if he happen to spring +from stock in which that sacred document is preserved. But four +years of war add twenty years to the grey matter behind the eyes-- +eyes which learn to dream and ponder strangely, and sometimes to +shine with a hardness that has no part with youth. When Captain +Grant and Sergeant Linder stepped off the train at Grant's old city +there was, however, little to suggest the ageing process that +commonly went on among the soldiers in the Great War. Grant had +twice stopped an enemy bullet, but his fine figure and sunburned +health now gave no evidence of those experiences. Linder counted +himself lucky to carry only an empty sleeve. + +They had fallen in with each other in France, and the friendship +planted in the foothills of the range country had grown, through +the strange prunings and graftings of war, into a tree of very +solid timber. Linder might have told you of the time his captain +found him with his arm crushed under a wrecked piece of artillery, +and Grant could have recounted a story of being dragged unconscious +out of No Man's Land, but for either to dwell upon these matters +only aroused the resentment of the other, and frequently led to +exchanges between captain and sergeant totally incompatible with +military discipline. They were content to pay tribute to each +other, but each to leave his own honors unheralded. + +"First thing is a place to eat," Grant remarked, when they had been +dismissed. Words to similar effect had, indeed, been his first +remark upon every suitable opportunity for three months. An +appetite which has been four years in the making is not to be +satisfied overnight, and Grant, being better fortified financially +against the stress of a good meal, sought to be always first to +suggest it. Linder accepted the situation with the complacence of +a man who has been four years on army pay. + +When they had eaten they took a walk through the old town--Grant's +old town. It looked as though he had stepped out of it yesterday; +it was hard to realize that ages lay between. There are experiences +which soak in slowly, like water into a log. The new element +surrounds the body, but it may be months before it penetrates to the +heart. Grant had some sense of that fact as he walked the old +familiar streets, apparently unchanged by all these cataclysmic +days. . . . In time he would come to understand. There was the name +plate of Barrett, Jones, Barrett, Deacon & Barrett. There had not +even been an addition to the firm. Here was the old Grant office, +now used for some administration purpose. That, at least, was a move +in the right direction. + +They wandered along aimlessly while the sunset of an early summer +evening marshalled its glories overhead. On a side street children +played in the roadway; on a vacant spot a game of ball was in +progress. Women sat on their verandas and shot casual glances +after them as they passed. Handsome pleasure cars glided about; +there was a smell of new flowers in all the air. + +"What do you make of it, mate?" said Grant at last. + +Linder pulled slowly on his cigarette. Even his training as a +sergeant had not made him ready of speech, but when he spoke it +was, as ever, to the point. + +"It's all so unnecessary," he commented at length. + +"That's the way it gets me, too. So unnecessary. You see, when +you get down to fundamentals there are only two things necessary-- +food and shelter. Everything else may be described as trimmings. +We've been dealing with fundamentals so long---mighty bare +fundamentals at that--that all these trimmings seem just a little +irritating, don't you think?" + +"I follow you. I simply can't imagine myself worrying over a stray +calf." + +"And I can't imagine myself sitting in an office and dealing with +such unessential things as stocks and bonds. . . . And I'm not +going to." + +"Got any notion what you will do?" said Linder, when he had reached +the middle of another cigarette. + +"Not the slightest. I don't even know whether I'm rich or broke. +I suppose if Jones and Murdoch are still alive they will be looking +after those details. Doing their best, doubtless, to embarrass me +with additional wealth. What are YOU going to do?" + +"Don't know. Maybe go back and work for Transley." + +The mention of Transley threw Grant's mind back into old channels. +He had almost forgotten Transley. He told himself he had quite +forgotten Zen Transley, but once he knew he lied. That was when +they potted him in No Man's Land. As he lay there, waiting . . . . +he knew he had not forgotten. And he had thought many times of +Phyllis Bruce. At first he had written to her, but she had not +answered his letters. Evidently she meant him to forget. Nor had +she come to the station to welcome him home. Perhaps she did not +know. Perhaps-- Many things can happen in four years. + +Suddenly it occurred to Grant that it might be a good idea to call +on Phyllis. He would take Linder along. That would make it less +personal. He knew his man well enough to keep his own counsel, and +eventually they reached the gate of the Bruce cottage, as though by +accident. + +"Let's turn in here. I used to know these people. Mother and +daughter; very fine folk." + +Linder looked for an avenue of retreat, but Grant barred his way, +and together they went up the path. A strange woman, with a baby +on her arm, met them at the door. Grant inquired for Mrs. Bruce +and her daughter. + +"Oh, you haven't heard?" said the woman. "I suppose you are just +back. Well, it was a sad thing, but these have been sad times. It +was when Hubert was killed I came here first. Poor dear, she took +that to heart awful, and couldn't be left alone, and Phyllis was +working in an office, so I came here part time to help out. Then +she was just beginning to brace up again when we got the word about +Grace. Grace, you know, was lost on a hospital ship. That was too +much for her." + +Grant received this information with a strange catching about the +heart. There had been changes, after all. + +"What became of Phyllis?" He tried to ask the question in an even +voice. + +"I moved into the house after Mrs. Bruce died," the woman +continued, "as my man came back discharged about that time. +Phyllis tried to get on as a nurse, but couldn't manage it. Then +her office was moved to another part of the city and she took rooms +somewhere. At first she came to see us often, but not lately. I +suppose she's trying to forget." + +"Trying to forget," Grant muttered to himself. "How much of life +is made up of trying to forget!" + +Further questions brought no further information. The woman didn't +know the firm for which Phyllis worked; she thought it had to do +with munitions. Suddenly Grant found himself impelled by a +tremendous desire to locate this girl. He would set about it at +once; possibly Jones or Murdoch could give him information. +Strangely enough, he now felt that he would prefer to be rid of +Linder's company. This was a matter for himself alone. He took +Linder to an hotel, where they arranged for lodgings, and then +started on his search. + +He located Murdoch without difficulty. It was now late, and the +old clerk came down the stairs with inoffensive imprecations upon +the head of his untimely caller, but his mutterings soon gave way +to a cry of delight. + +"My dear boy!" he exclaimed, embracing him. "My dear boy--excuse +me, sir, I'm a blithering old man, but oh! sir--my boy, you're home +again!" There was no doubting the depth of old Murdoch's welcome. +He ran before Grant into the living-room and switched on the +lights. In a moment he was back with his arm about the young man's +shoulder; he was with difficulty restraining caresses. + +"Sit you down, Mr. Grant; here--this chair--it's easier. I must +get the women up. This is no night for sleeping. Why didn't you +send us word?" + +"There is a tradition that official word is sent in advance," Grant +tried to explain. + +"Aye, a tradition. There's a tradition that a Scotsman is a dour +body without any sentiment. Well--I must call the women." + +He hurried up the stairs and Grant settled back into his chair. +So this was the home of Murdoch, the man who really had earned a +considerable part of the Grant fortune. He had never visited +Murdoch before; he had never thought of him in a domestic sense; +Murdoch had always been to him a man of figures, of competent +office routine, of almost too respectful deference. The light over +the centre table fell subdued through a pinkish shade; the corners +of the room lay in restful shadows; the comfortable furniture +showed the marks of years. The walls suggested the need of new +paper; the well-worn carpet had been shifted more than once for +economy's sake. Grant made a hasty appraisal of these conditions; +possibly his old clerk was feeling the pinch of circumstances-- + +Murdoch, returning, led in his wife, a motherly woman who almost +kissed the young soldier. In the welcome of her greeting it was a +moment before Grant became aware of the presence of a fourth person +in the room. + +"I am very glad to see you safely back," said Phyllis Bruce. "We +have all been thinking about you a great deal." + +"Why, Miss--Phyllis! It was you I was looking for!" The frank +confession came before he had time to suppress it, and, having said +so much, it seemed better to finish the job. + +"Yes, Phyllis is making her home with us now," Mrs. Murdoch +explained. "It is more convenient to her work." + +Grant wondered how much of this arrangement was due to Mrs. +Murdoch's sympathy for the bereaved girl, and how much to the +addition which it made to the family income. No doubt both +considerations had contributed to it. + +"I called at your old home," he continued. "I needn't say how +distressed I was to hear-- The woman could tell me nothing of you, +so I came to Murdoch, hoping--" + +"Yes," she said, simply, as though there were nothing more to +explain. Grant noticed that her eyes were larger and her cheeks +paler than they had been, but the delight of her presence leapt +about him. Her hurried costume seemed to accentuate her beauty +despite of all that war had done to destroy it. There was a +silence which lengthened out. They were all groping for a footing. + +Mrs. Murdoch met the situation by insisting that she would put on +the kettle, and Mr. Murdoch, in a burst of almost divine +inspiration, insisted that his wife was quite incompetent to light +the gas alone at that hour of the night. When the old folks had +shuffled into the kitchen Grant found himself standing close to +Phyllis Bruce. + +"Why didn't you answer my letters?" he demanded, plunging to the +issue with the directness of his nature. + +"Because I had promised to let you forget," she replied. There was +a softness in her voice which he had not noted in those bygone +days; she seemed more resigned and yet more poised; the strange +wizardry of suffering had worked new wonders in her soul. Suddenly, +as he looked upon her, he became aware of a new quality in Phyllis +Bruce--the quality of gentleness. She had added this to her unique +self-confidence, and it had toned down the angularities of her +character. To Grant, straight from his long exile from fine womanly +domesticity, she suddenly seemed altogether captivating. + +"But I didn't want to forget!" he insisted. "I wanted not to +forget--YOU." + +She could not misunderstand the emphasis he placed on that last +word, but she continued as though he had not interrupted. + +"I knew you would write once or twice out of courtesy. I knew you +would do that. I made up my mind that if you wrote three times, +then I would know you really wanted to remember me. . . . I did +not get any third letter." + +"But how could I know that you had placed such a test--such an +arbitrary measurement--upon my friendship?" + +"It wasn't necessary for you to know. If you had cared--enough-- +you would have kept on writing." + +He had to admit to himself that there was just enough truth in what +she said to make her logic unanswerable. His delight in her +presence now did not alter the fact that he had found it quite +possible to live for four years without her, and it was true that +upon one or two great vital moments his mind had leapt, not to +Phyllis Bruce, but to Zen Transley! He blushed at the recollection; +it was an impossible situation, but it was true! + +He was framing some plausible argument about honorable men not +persisting in a correspondence when Murdoch bustled in again. + +"Mother is going to set the dining-room table," he announced, "and +the coffee will be ready presently. Well, sir, you do look well in +uniform. You will be wondering how the business has gone?" + +"Not half as much as I am wondering some other things," he said, +with a significance intended for the ear of Phyllis. "You see--I +was just talking it over with a pal to-day, a very good comrade +whom I used to know in the West, and who pulled me out of No Man's +Land where I would have been lying yet if he hadn't thought more of +me than he did of himself--I was talking it over with him to-day, +and we agreed that business isn't worth the effort. Fancy sitting +behind a desk, wondering about the stock market, when you've been +accustomed to leaning up against a parapet wondering where the next +shell is going to burst! If that is not from the sublime to the +ridiculous, it is at least from the vital to the inconsequential. +You can't expect men to take a jump like that." + +"No, not as a jump," Murdoch agreed. "They'll have to move down +gradually. But they must remember that life depends quite as much +on wheat-fields as it does on trenches, and that all the machinery +of commerce and industry is as vital in its way as is the machinery +of war. They must remember that, or instead of being at the end of +our troubles we will find ourselves at the beginning." + +"I suppose," Grant conceded, "but it all seems so unnecessary. No +doubt you have been piling up more money to be a problem to my +conscience." + +"Your peculiar conscience, I might almost correct, sir. Your +responsibilities do seem to insist upon increasing. Following your +instructions I put the liquid assets into Government bonds. +Interest, even on Government bonds, has a way of working while you +sleep. Then, you may remember, we were carrying a large load of +certain steel stocks. These I did not dispose of at once, with the +result that they, in themselves, have made you a comfortable +fortune." + +"I suppose I should thank you for your foresight, Murdoch. I was +rather hoping you would lose my money and so relieve me of an +embarrassing situation. What am I to do with it?" + +"I don't know, sir, but I feel sure you will use it for some good +purpose. I was glad to get as much of it together for you as I +did, because otherwise it might have fallen to people who would +have wasted it." + +"Upon my word, Murdoch, that smacks of my own philosophy. Is it +possible even you are becoming converted?" + +"Come, Mr. Grant; come, everybody!" a cheerful voice called from +behind the sliding doors which shut off the dining-room. The +fragrant smell of coffee was already in the air, and as Grant took +his seat Mrs. Murdoch declared that for once she had decided to +defy all the laws of digestion. + +At the table their talk dribbled out into thin channels. It was +as though there were at hand a great reservoir of thought, of +experience, of deep gropings into the very well-springs of life, +which none of them dared to tap lest it should rush out and +overwhelm them. They seemed in some strange awe of its presence, +and spoke, when they spoke at all, of trivial things. Grant proved +uncommunicative, and perhaps, in a sense, disappointing. He +preferred to forget both the glories and the horrors of war; when +he drew on his experience at all it was to relate some humorous +incident. That, it seemed, was all he cared to remember. He was +conscious of a restraint which hedged him about and hampered every +mental deployment. + +Phyllis, too, must have been conscious of that restraint, for +before they parted she said something about human minds being like +pianos, which get out of tune for lack of the master-touch. . . . + +When Grant found himself in the street air again he was almost +swallowed up in the rush of things which he might have said. His +mental machinery, which seemed to have been out of mesh,--came back +into adjustment with a jerk. He suddenly discovered that he could +think; he could drive his mind from his own batteries. In +soldiering the mind is driven from the batteries of the rank higher +up. The business of discipline is to make man an automatic machine +rather than a thinking individual. It seemed to Grant that in that +moment the machine part of him gave way and the individual was +restored. In his case the change came in a moment; he had been +re-tuned; he was able to think logically in terms of civil life. +He pieced together Murdoch's conversation. "Not as a jump," Murdoch +had said, when he had argued that a man cannot emerge in a moment +from the psychology of the trenches to that of the counting-house. +Undoubtedly that would be true of the mass; they would experience +no instantaneous readjustment. . . . + +There are moments when the mind, highly vitalized, reaches out into +the universe of thought and grasps ideas far beyond its conscious +intention. All great thoughts come from uncharted sources of +inspiration, and it may be that the function of the mind is not to +create thought, but only to record it. To do so it must be tuned +to the proper key of receptivity. Grant had a consciousness, as he +walked along the deserted streets toward his hotel, that he was in +that key; the quietness, the domesticity of Murdoch's home, the +loveliness of Phyllis Bruce, had, for the moment at least, shut out +a background of horror and lifted his thought into an exalted +plane. He paused at a bridge to lean against the railing and watch +the trembling reflection of city lights in the river. + +"I have it!" he suddenly exclaimed to the steel railing. "I have +it!" + +He paused for a moment to turn over his thought, as though to make +sure it should not escape. Then, at a pace which aroused the +wondering glance of one or two placid policemen, he hurried to the +hotel. + +Linder and Grant had been assigned to the same room, and the +sergeant's dreams, if he dreamt at all, were of the sweet hay +meadows of the West. Grant turned on the light and looked down +into the face of his friend. A smile, born of fields afar from +war's alarms, was playing about his lips. Even in his excitement +Grant could not help reflecting what a wonderful thing it is to +sleep in peace. Then-- + +"I have it!" he shouted. "Linder, I have it!" + +The sergeant sat up with a start, blinking. + +"I have it!" Grant repeated. + +"THEM, you mean," said Linder, suddenly awake. "Why, man, what's +wrong with you? You're more excited than if we were just going +over the top." + +"I've got my great idea. I know what I'm going to do with my +money." + +"Well, don't do it to-night," Linder protested. "Someone has to +settle for this dug-out in the morning." + +"We're leaving for the West to-morrow, Linder, old scout. Everybody +will say we're crazy, but that's a good sign. They've said that +of every reformer since--" + +But Linder was again sleeping the sleep of a man four years in +France. + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +The window was grey with the light of dawn before Grant's mind had +calmed down enough for sleep. When Linder awoke him it was noon. + +"You sleep well on your Big Idea," was his comment. + +"No better than you did last night," retorted Grant, springing out +of bed. "Let me see . . . . yes, I still have it clearly. I'll +tell you about it sometime, if you can stay awake. When do we +eat?" + +"Now, or as soon as you are presentable. I've a notion to give you +three days' C.B. for appearing on parade in your pyjamas." + +"Make it a cash fine, Sergeant, old dear, and pay it out of what +you owe me. Now that that is settled order up a decent meal. I'll +be shaved and dressed long before it arrives. You know this is a +first-class hotel, where prompt service would not be tolerated." + +As they ate together Grant showed no disposition to discuss what +Linder called his Big Idea, nor yet to give any satisfaction in +response to his companion's somewhat pointed references as to his +doings of the night before. + +"There are times, Linder," he said, "when my soul craves solitude. +You, being a sergeant, and therefore having no soul, will not be +able to understand that longing for contemplation--" + +"It's all right," said Linder. "I don't want her." + +"Furthermore," Grant continued, "to-night I mean to resume my +soliloquies, and your absence will be much in demand." + +"The supply will be equal to the demand." + +"Good! Here are some morsels of money. If you will buy our +railway tickets and settle with the chief extortionist downstairs I +will join you at the night train going west." + +Linder sprang to attention, gave a salute in which mock deference +could not entirely obscure the respect beneath, and set about on +his commissions, while Grant devoted the afternoon to a session +with Murdoch and Jones, to neither of whom would he reveal his +plans further than to say he was going west "to engage in some +development work." During the afternoon it was noted that Grant's +interest centred more in a certain telephone call than in the very +gratifying financial statement which Murdoch was able to place +before him. And it was probably as a result of that telephone call +that a taxi drew up in front of Murdoch's home at exactly six- +thirty that evening and bore Miss Phyllis Bruce and an officer +wearing a captain's uniform in the direction of the best hotel in +the city. + +The dining-room was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and soft +strains of music stole vagrantly about its high arching pillars, +mingling with the chatter of lovely women and of men to whom +expense was no consideration. Grant was conscious of a delicious +sense of intimacy as he helped Phyllis remove her wraps and seated +himself by her at a secluded corner table. + +"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I don't make compliments for exercise, +but you do look stunning to-night!" + +A warmth of color lit up her cheek--he had noticed at Murdoch's how +pale she was--and her eyes laughed back at him with some of their +old-time vivacity. + +"I am so glad," she said. "It seems almost like old times--" + +They gave their orders, and sat in silence through an overture. +Grant was delighting himself simply in her presence, and guessed +that for her part she could not retract the confession her love had +wrung from her so long ago. + +"There are some things which don't change, Phyllis," he said, when +the orchestra had ceased. + +She looked back at him with eyes moist and dreamy. "I know," she +murmured. + +There seemed no reason why Grant should not there and then have +laid himself, figuratively, at her feet. And there was not any +reason--only one. He wanted first to go west. He almost hoped +that out there some light of disillusionment would fall about him; +that some sudden experience such as he had known the night before +would readjust his personality in accordance with the inevitable. . . + +"I asked you to dine with me to-night," he heard himself saying, +"for two reasons: first, for the delight of your exquisite +companionship; and second, because I want to place before you +certain business plans which, to me at least, are of the greatest +importance. + +"You know the position which I have taken with regard to the +spending of money, that one should not spend on himself or his +friends anything but his own honest earnings for which he has given +honest service to society. I have seen no reason to change my +position. On the contrary the war has strengthened me in my +convictions. It has brought home to me and to the world the fact +that heroism is a flower which grows in no peculiar soil, and that +it blossoms as richly among the unwashed and the underfed as among +the children of fortune. This fact only aggravates the extremes of +wealth and poverty, and makes them seem more unjust than ever. + +"For myself I have accepted this view, but our financial system is +founded upon very different ethics. I wonder if you have ever +thought of the fact that when the barons at Runnymede laid the +foundations of democratic government for the world they overlooked +the almost equally important matter of creating a democratic system +of finance. Well--let's not delve into that now. The point is +that under our present system we do acquire wealth which we do not +earn, and the only thing to be done for the time being is to treat +that wealth as a trust to be managed for the benefit of humanity. +That is what I call the new morality as applied to money, although +it is not so new either. It can be traced back at least nineteen +hundred years, and all our philanthropists, great and little, have +surely caught some glimpse of that truth, unless, perhaps, they +gave their alms that they might have honor of men. But giving +one's money away does not solve the problem; it pauperizes the +recipient and delays the evolution of new conditions in which +present injustices would be corrected. I hope you are able to +follow me?" + +"Perfectly. It is easy for me, who have nothing to lose, to follow +your logic. You will have more trouble convincing those whose +pockets it would affect." + +"I am not so sure of that. Humanity is pretty sound at heart, but +we can't abandon the boat we're on until we have another that is +proven seaworthy. However, it seems to me that I have found a +solution which I can apply in my individual case. Have you thought +what are the three greatest needs, commercially speaking, of the +present day?" + +"Production, I suppose, is the first." + +"Yes--most particularly production of food. And the others are +corollary to it. They are instruction and opportunity. I am +thinking especially of returned men." + +"Production--instruction--opportunity," she repeated. "How are you +going to bring them about?" + +"That is my Big Idea, as Linder calls it, although I have not yet +confided in him what it is. Well--the world is crying for food, +and in our western provinces are millions of acres which have never +felt the plow--" + +"In the East, too, for that matter." + +"I know, but I naturally think of the West. I propose to form a +company and buy a large block of land, cut it up into farms, build +houses and community centres, and put returned men and their +families on these farms, under the direction of specialists in +agriculture. I shall break up the rectangular survey of the West +for something with humanizing possibilities; I mean to supplant it +with a system of survey which will permit of settlement in groups-- +villages, if you like--where I shall instal all the modern +conveniences of the city, including movie shows. Our statesmen are +never done lamenting that population continues to flow from the +country to the city, but the only way to stop that flow is to make +the country the more attractive of the two." + +"But your company--who are to be the shareholders?" + +"That is the keystone of the Big Idea. There never before was a +company like this will be. In the first place, I shall put up all +the money myself. Then, when I have prepared a farm ready to +receive a man and his family, I will sell him shares equivalent to +the value of his farm, and give him a perpetual lease, subject to +certain restrictions. Let me illustrate. Suppose you are the +prospective shareholder. I say, Miss Bruce, I can place you on a +farm worth, with buildings and equipment, ten thousand dollars. I +do not ask any cash from you; not a cent, but I want you to +subscribe for ten thousand dollars stock in my company. That will +make you a shareholder. When the farm begins to produce you are to +have all you and your family--this is an illustration, you know-- +can consume for your own use. The balance is to be sold, and one- +third of the proceeds is to be paid into the treasury of the +company and credited on your purchase of shares. When you have +paid for all your shares in this way you will have no further +payments to make, except such levy as may be made by the company +for running expenses. You, as a shareholder of the company, will +have a voice with the other shareholders in determining what that +levy shall be. You and your descendents will be allowed possession +of that farm forever, subject only to your obeying the rules of the +company. You--" + +"But why the company? It simply amounts to buying the land on +payments to be made out of each year's crop, except that you want +me to pay for shares in the company instead of for the land +itself." + +"That, as I told you, is the keystone of my Big Idea. If I sold +you the land you would be master of it; you could do as you liked +with it. You could let it lie idle; you could allow your buildings +and machinery to get out of repair; you could keep scrub stock; all +your methods of husbandry might be slovenly or antiquated; you +could even rent or sell the land to someone who might be morally or +socially undesirable in the community. On the other hand you might +be peculiarly successful, when you would proceed to buy out your +less successful neighbors, or make loans on their land, and thus +create yourself a land monopolist. But as a shareholder in the +company you will be subject to the rules laid down by the company. +If it says that houses must be painted every four years you will +paint your house every fourth year. If it rules that hayracks are +not to be left on the front lawn you will have to deposit yours +somewhere else. If it orders that crops must be rotated to preserve +the fertility of the soil you will obey those instructions. If you +do not like the regulations you can use your influence with the +board of directors to have them changed. If you fail there you can +sell your shares to someone else--provided you can find a purchaser +acceptable to the board--and get out. The Big Idea is that the +community--the company in this case--shall control the individual, +and the individual shall exert his proper measure of control over +the community. The two are interlocked and interdependent, each +exerting exactly the proper amount of power and accepting +proportionate responsibility." + +"But have you provided against the possibility of one man or a +group of men buying up a majority of the stock and so controlling +the company? They could then freeze out the smaller owners." + +"Yes," said Grant, toying with his coffee, "I have made a provision +for that which I think is rather ingenious. Don't imagine that +this all came to me in a moment. The central thought struck me +last night on my way home, and I knew then I had the embryo of the +plan, but I lay awake until daylight working out details. I am +going to allot votes on a very unique principle. It seems to me +that a man's stake in a country should be measured, not by the +amount of money he has, but by the number of mouths he has to feed. +I will adopt that rule in my company, and the voting will be +according to the number of children in the family. That should +curb the ambitious." + +They laughed over this proviso, and Phyllis agreed that it was all +a very wonderful plan. "And when they have paid for all their +shares you get your money back," she commented. + +"Oh, no. I don't want my money back. I didn't explain that to +you. I will advance the money on the bonds of the company, without +interest. Suppose I am able to finance a hundred farms that way, +then as the payments come in, still more farms. The thing will +spread like a ripple in a pool, until it covers the whole country. +When you turn a sum of money loose, WITH NO INTEREST CHARGE +ATTACHED TO IT, there is no limit to what it can accomplish." + +"But what will you do with your bonds, eventually? They will be +perfectly secured. I don't see that you are getting rid of your +money at all, except the interest, which you are giving away." + +"That, Phyllis, is where autocracy and democracy meet. All +progress is like the swinging of a pendulum, with autocracy at one +end of the arc and democracy at the other, and progress is the mean +of their opposing forces. But there are times when the most +democratic countries have to use autocratic methods, as, for +example, Great Britain and the United States in the late war. We +must learn to make autocracy the servant of democracy, not its +enemy. Well--I'm going to be the autocrat in this case. I am +going to sit behind the scenes and as long as my company functions +all right I will leave it alone, but if it shows signs of wrecking +itself I will assume the role of the benevolent despot and set it +to rights again. Oh, Phyllis, don't you see? It's not just MY +company I'm thinking about. This is an experiment, in which my +company will represent the State. If it succeeds I shall turn the +whole machinery over to the State as my contribution to the +betterment of humanity. If it fails--well, then I shall have +demonstrated that the idea is unsound. Even that is worth +something. + +"I like to think of the great inventors, experimenting with the +mysterious forces of nature. Their business is to find the natural +laws that govern material things. And I am quite sure that there +are also natural laws designed to govern man in his social and +economic relationships, and when those laws have been discovered +the impossibilities of to-day will become the common practice +of to-morrow, just as steam and electricity have made the +impossibilities of yesterday the common practice of to-day. The +first need is to find the law, and to what more worthy purpose +could a man devote himself? When I landed here yesterday--when I +walked again through these old streets--I was a being without +purpose; I was like a battery that had dried up. All these petty +affairs of life seemed so useless, so humdrum, so commonplace, I +knew I could never settle down to them again. Then last night from +some unknown source came a new idea--an inspiration--and presto! +the battery is re-charged, life again has its purposes, and I am +eager to be at work. + +"I said 'some unknown source,' but it was not altogether unknown. +It had something to do with honest old Murdoch, and his good wife +pouring coffee for the midnight supper in their cozy dining-room, +and Phyllis Bruce across the table! We never know, Phyllis, how +much we owe to our friends; to that charmed circle, be it ever so +small, in which every note strikes in harmony. I know my Big Idea +is only playing on the surface; only skimming about the edges. +What the world needs is just friends." + +Grant had talked himself out, but he continued to sit at the little +table, reveling in the happiness of a man who feels that he has +been called to some purpose worth while. His companion hesitated +to interrupt his thoughts; her somewhat drab business experience +made her pessimistic toward all idealism, and yet she felt that +here, surely, was a man who could carry almost any project through +to success. The unique quality in him, which distinguished him +from any other man she had ever known, was his complete +unselfishness. In all his undertakings he coveted no reward for +himself; he was seeking only the common good. + +"If all men were like you there would be no problems," she +murmured, and while he could not accept the words quite at par +they rang very pleasantly in his ears. + +A movement among the diners reminded him of the flight of time, and +with a glance at his watch he sprang up in surprise. "I had no +idea the evening had gone!" he exclaimed. "I have just time to see +you home and get back to catch my train." + +He called a taxi and accompanied her into it. They seated +themselves together, and the fragrance of her presence was very +sweet about him. It would have been so easy to forget--all that he +had been trying to forget--in the intoxication of such environment. +Surely it was not necessary that he should go west--that he should +see HER again--in order to be sure. + +"Phyllis," he breathed, "do you imagine I could undertake these +things if I cared only for myself--if it were not that I longed for +someone's approval--for someone to be proud of me? The strongest +man is weak enough for that, and the strongest man is stronger when +he knows that the woman he loves--" + +He would have taken her in his arms, but she resisted, gently, +firmly. + +"You have made me think too much of you, Dennison," she whispered. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +On the way west Grant gradually unfolded his plan to Linder, who +accepted it with his customary stoicism. + +"I'm not very strong for a scheme that hasn't got any profits in +it," Linder confessed. "It doesn't sound human." + +"I don't notice that you have ever figured very high in profits on +your own account," Grant retorted. "Your usefulness has been in +making them for other people. I suppose if I would let you help to +swell my bank account you would work for me for board and lodging, +but as I refuse to do that I shall have to pay you three times +Transley's rate. I don't know what he paid you, but I suspect that +for every dollar you earned for yourself you earned two for him, so +I am going to base your scale accordingly. You are to go on with +the physical work at once; buy the horses, tractors, machinery; +break up the land, fence it, build the houses and barns; in short, +you are to superintend everything that is done with muscle or its +substitute. I will bring Murdoch out shortly to take charge of the +clerical details and the general organization. As for myself, +after I have bought the land and placed the necessary funds to the +credit of the company I propose to keep out of the limelight. I +will be the heart of the undertaking; Murdoch will be the head, and +you are to be the hands, and I hope you two conspirators won't give +me palpitation. You think it a mistake to work without profits, +but Murdoch thinks it a sin. When I lay my plans before him I am +quite prepared to hear him insist upon calling in an alienist." + +"It's YOUR money," Linder assented, laconically. "What are YOU +going to do?" + +"I'm going to buy a half section of my own, and I'm going to start +myself on it on identically the same terms that I offer to the +shareholders in my company. I want to prove by my own experience +that it can be done, but I must keep away from the company. Human +nature is a clinging vine at best, and I don't want it clinging +about me. You will notice that my plan, unlike most communistic +or socialist ventures, relieves the individual of no atom of +responsibility. I give him the opportunity, but I put it up to him +to make good with that opportunity. I have not overlooked the fact +that a man is a man, and never can be made quite into a machine." + +The two friends discussed at great length the details of the Big +Idea, and upon arrival in the West Linder lost no time in preparing +blue-prints and charts descriptive of the improvements to be made +on the land and the order in which the work was to be carried on. +Grant bought a tract suitable to his purpose, and the wheels of the +machine which was to blaze a path for the State were set in motion. +When this had been done Grant turned to the working out of his own +individual experiment. + +During the period in which these arrangements were being made it +was inevitable that Grant should have heard more or less of +Transley. He had not gone out of his way to seek information of +the contractor, but it rather had been forced upon him. Transley's +name was frequently heard in the offices of the business men with +whom he had to do; it was mentioned in local papers with the +regularity peculiar to celebrities in comparatively small centres. +Transley, it appeared, had become something of a power in the land. +Backed by old Y.D.'s capital he had carried some rather daring +ventures through to success. He had seized the panicky moments +following the outbreak of the war to buy heavily on the wheat and +cattle markets, and increases in prices due to the world's demand +for food had made him one of the wealthy men of the city. The +desire of many young farmers to enlist had also afforded an +opportunity to acquire their holdings for small considerations, and +Transley had proved his patriotism by facilitating the ambitions of +as many men in this position as came to his attention. The fact +that even before the war ended the farms which he acquired in this +way were worth several times the price he paid was only an incident +in the transactions. + +But no word of Transley's domestic affairs reached Grant, who told +himself that he had ceased to be interested in them, but kept an +alert ear nevertheless. It would seem that Transley rather +eclipsed his wife in the public eye. + +So Grant set about with the development of his own farm, and kept +his mind occupied with it and with his larger experiment--except +when it went flirting with thoughts of Phyllis Bruce. He was +rather proud of the figure he had used to Linder, of the head, +hands, and heart of his organization, but to himself he admitted +that that figure was incomplete. There was a soul as well, and +that soul was the girl whose inspiring presence had in some way +jerked his mind out of the stagnant backwaters in which the war had +left it. There was no doubt of that. He had written to Murdoch to +come west and undertake new work for him. He had intimated that +the change would be permanent, and that it might be well to bring +the family. . . . + +He selected a farm where a ridge of foothills overlooked a broad +valley receding into the mountains. The dealer had no idea of +selling him this particular piece of land; they were bound for a +half section farther up the slope when Grant stopped on the brow of +the hill to feast his eyes on the scene that lay before him. It +burst upon him with the unexpectedness peculiar to the foothill +valleys; miles of gently undulating plain, lying apparently far +below, but in reality rising in a sharp ascent toward the snow- +capped mountains looking down silently through their gauze of blue- +purple afternoon mist. At distances which even his trained eye +would not attempt to compute lay little round lakes like silver +coins on the surface of the prairie; here and there were dark green +bluffs of spruce; to the right a ribbon of river, blue-green save +where the rapids churned it white, and along its edge a fringe of +leafy cottonwoods; at vast intervals square black plots of plowed +land like sections on a chess-board of the gods, and farm buildings +cut so clear in the mountain atmosphere that the sense of space was +lost and they seemed like child-houses just across the way. + +Grant turned to his companion with an animation in his face which +almost startled the prosaic dealer in real estate. + +"Wonderful! Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "We don't need to go any +farther if you can sell me this." + +"Sure I can sell you this," said the dealer, looking at him +somewhat queerly. "That is, if you want it. I thought you were +looking for a wheat farm." + +The man's total lack of appreciation irritated Grant unreasonably. +"Wheat makes good hog fodder," he retorted, "but sunsets keep alive +the soul. What is the price?" + +Again the dealer gave him a queer sidelong look, and made as though +to argue with him, then suddenly seemed to change his purpose. +Perhaps he reflected that strange things happened to the boys +overseas. + +"I'll get you the price in town," he said. "You are sure it will +suit?" + +"Suit? No king in Christendom has his palace on a site like this. +I'd go round the world for it." + +"You're the doctor," said the dealer, turning his car. + +Grant completed the purchase, ordered lumber for a house and barn, +and engaged a carpenter to superintend the construction. It was +one of his whims that he would do most of the work himself. + +"I guess I'm rather a man of whims," he reflected, as he stood on +the brow of the hill where the material for his buildings had been +delivered. "It was a whim which first brought me west, and a whim +which has brought me west again. I have a whim about my money, a +whim about my farm, a whim about my buildings. I do not do as +other people do, which is the unpardonable sin. To Linder I am a +jester, to Murdoch a fanatic, to our friend the real estate dealer +a fool; I even noticed my honest carpenter trying to ask me +something about shell shock! Well--they're MY whims, and I get an +immense amount of satisfaction out of them." + +The days that followed were the happiest Grant had known since +childhood. The carpenter, a thin, twisted man, bowed with much +labor at the bench, and answering to the name Peter, sold his +services by the day and manifested a sympathy amounting to an +indulgence toward the whims of his employer. So long as the wages +were sure Peter cared not whether the house was finished this year +or next--or not at all. He enjoyed Grant's cooking in the +temporary work-shed they had built; he enjoyed Grant's stories of +funny incidents of the war which would crop out at unexpected +moments, and which were always good for a new pipe and a few +minutes' rest; he even essayed certain flights of his own, which +showed that Peter was a creature not entirely without humor. He +developed an appreciation of scenery; he would stand for long +intervals gazing across the valley. Grant was not deceived by +these little devices, but he never took Peter to task for his +loitering. He was prepared almost to suspend his rule that money +must not be paid except for service rendered. "If the old dodger +isn't quite paying his way now, no doubt he has more than paid it +many times in the past," he mused. "This is an occasion upon which +to temper justice with mercy." + +But it was in the planning and building of the house he found his +real delight. He laid it out on very modest lines, as became the +amount of money he was prepared to spend. It was to be a single- +story bungalow, with veranda round the south and west. The living- +room ran across the south side; into its east wall he built a +capacious fireplace, with narrow slits of windows to right and +left, and in the western wall were deep French windows commanding +the magic of the view across the valley. The dining-room, too, +faced to the west, with more French windows to let in sun and soul. +The kitchen was to the east, and off the kitchen lay Grant's +bedroom, facing also to the east, as becomes a man who rises early +for his day's labors. And then facing the west, and opening off +the dining-room, was what he was pleased to call his whim-room. + +The idea of the whim-room came upon him as he was working out plans +on the smooth side of a board, and thinking about things in +general, and a good deal about Phyllis Bruce, and wondering if he +should ever run across Zen Transley. It struck him all of a +sudden, as had the Big Idea that night when he was on his way home +from Murdoch's house. He worked it out surreptitiously, not +allowing even old Peter to see it until he had made it into his +plan, and then he described it just as the whim-room. But it was +to be by all means the best room in the house; special finishing +and flooring lumber were to be bought for it; the fireplace had to +be done in a peculiarly delicate tile; the French windows must be +high and wide and of the most brilliant transparency. . . . + +The ring of the saw, the trill of the plane, the thwack of the +hammer, were very pleasant music in his ears. Day by day he +watched his dwelling grow with the infinite joy of creating, and +night after night he crept with Peter into the work-shed and slept +the sleep of a man tired and contented. In the long summer +evenings the sunlight hung like a champagne curtain over the +mountains even after bedtime, and Grant had to cut a hole in the +wall of the shed that he might watch the dying colors of the day +fade from crimson to purple to blue on the tassels of cloud-wraith +floating in the western sky. At times Linder and Murdoch would +visit him to report progress on the Big Idea, and the three would +sit on a bench in the half-built house, sweet with the fragrance of +new sawdust, and smoke placidly while they determined matters of +policy or administration. It had been something of a disappointment +to Grant that Murdoch had not considered Phyllis Bruce one of "the +family." He had left her, regretfully, in the East, but had made +provision that she was still to have her room in the old Murdoch +home. + +"Phyllis would have come west, and gladly, if I could have promised +her a position," Murdoch explained, "but I could not do that, as I +knew nothing of your plans, and a girl can't afford to trifle with +her job these days, Mr. Grant." + +And Grant said nothing, but he thought of his whim-room, and +smiled. + +Grant was almost sorry when the house was finished. "There's so +much more enjoyment in doing things than in merely possessing them +after they're done," he philosophized to Linder. "I think that +must be the secret of the peculiar fascination of the West. The +East, with all its culture and conveniences and beauty, can never +win a heart which has once known the West. That is because in the +East all the obvious things are done, but in the West they are +still to do." + +"You should worry," said Linder. "You still have the plowing." + +"Yes, and as soon as the stable is finished I am going to buy four +horses and get to work." + +"I supposed you would use a tractor." + +"Not this time. I can admire a piece of machinery, but I can't +love it. I can love horses." + +"You'll be housing them in the whim-room," Linder remarked dryly, +and had to jump to escape the hammer which his chief shied at him. + +But the plowing was really a great experience. Grant had an eye +for horse-flesh, and the four dapple-greys which pressed their fine +shoulders into the harness of his breaking plow might have +delighted the heart of any teamster. As he sat on his steel seat +and watched the colter cut the firm sod with brittle cracking sound +as it snapped the tough roots of the wild roses, or looking back +saw the regular terraces of shiny black mould which marked his +progress, he felt that he was engaged in a rite of almost +sacramental significance. + +"To take a substance straight from the hand of the Creator and be +the first in all the world to impose a human will upon it is surely +an occasion for solemnity and thanksgiving," he soliloquized. "How +can anyone be so gross as to see only materialism in such work as +this? Surely it has something of fundamental religion in it! Just +as from the soil springs all physical life, may it not be that deep +down in the soil are, some way, the roots of the spiritual? The +soil feeds the city in two ways; it fills its belly with material +food, and it is continually re-vitalizing its spirit with fresh +streams of energy which can come only from the land. Up from the +soil comes all life, all progress, all development--" + +At that moment Grant's plowshare struck a submerged boulder, and he +was dumped precipitately into that element which he had been so +generously apostrophizing. The well-trained horses came to a stop +as he gathered himself up, none the worse, and regained his seat. + +"That WAS a spill," he commented. "Ditched not only myself, but my +whole train of thought. Never mind; perhaps I was dangerously +close to the development of a new whim, and I am well supplied in +that particular already. Hello, whom have we here?" + +The horses had come to a stop a short distance before the end of +the furrow, and Grant, glancing ahead, saw immediately in front of +them a little chap of four or five obstructing the way. He stood +astride of the furrow with widespread legs bridging the distance +from the virgin prairie to the upturned sod. He was hatless, and +curls of silky yellow hair fell about his round, bright face. His +hands were stuck obtrusively in his trouser pockets. + +"Well, son, what's the news?" said Grant, when the two had measured +each other for a moment. + +"I got braces," the boy replied proudly. "Don't you see?" + +"Why, so you have!" Grant exclaimed. "Come around here until I see +them better." + +So encouraged, the little chap came skipping around the horses, and +exhibited his braces for Grant's admiration. But he had already +become interested in another subject. + +"Are these your horses?" he demanded. + +"Yes." + +"Will they bite?" + +"Why, no, I don't believe they would. They have been very well +brought up." + +"What do you call them?" + +"This one is Prince, on the left, and the others are Queen, and +King, and Knave. I call him Knave because he's always scheming, +trying to get out of his share of the work, and I make him walk on +the plowed land, too." + +"That serves him right," the boy declared. "What's your name?" + +"Why--what's yours?" + +"Wilson." + +"Wilson what?" + +"Just Wilson." + +"What does your mother call you?" + +"Just Wilson. Sometimes daddy calls me Bill." + +"Oh!" + +"What's your name?" + +"Call me The Man on the Hill." + +"Do you live on the hill?" + +"Yes." + +"Is that your house?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you make it?" + +"Yes." + +"All yourself?" + +"No. Peter helped me." + +"Who's Peter?" + +"He is the man who helped me." + +"Oh!" + +These credentials exchanged, the boy fell silent, while Grant +looked down upon him with a whimsical admixture of humor and +tenderness. Suddenly, without a word, the boy dashed as fast as +his legs could carry him to the end of the field, and plunged into +a clump of bushes. In a moment he emerged with something brown and +chubby in his arms. + +"He's my teddy," he said to Grant. "He was watching in the bushes +to see if you were a nice man." + +"And am I?" Grant was tempted to ask. + +"Yes." There was no evasion about Wilson. He approved of his new +acquaintance, and said so. + +"Let us give teddy a ride on Prince?" + +"Let's!" + +Grant carefully arranged teddy on the horse's hames, and the boy +clapped his hands with delight. + +"Now let us all go for a ride. You will sit on my knee, and teddy +will drive Prince." + +He took the boy carefully on his knee, driving with one hand and +holding him in place with the other. The little body resting +confidently against his side was a new experience for Grant. + +"We must drive carefully," he remarked. "Here and there are big +stones hidden in the grass. If we were to hit one it might dump us +off." + +The little chap chuckled. "Nothing could dump you off," he said. + +Grant reflected that such implicit and unwarranted confidence +implied a great responsibility, and he drove with corresponding +care. A mishap now might nip this very delightful little bud of +hero-worship. + +They turned the end of the furrow with a fine jingle of loose +trace-chains, and Prince trotted a little on account of being on +the outer edge of the semicircle. The boy clapped his hands again +as teddy bounced up and down on the great shoulders. + +"Have you a little boy?" he asked, when they were started again. + +"Why, no," Grant confessed, laughing at the question. + +"Why?" + +There was no evading this childish inquisitor. He had a way of +pursuing a subject to bedrock. + +"Well, you see, I've no wife." + +"No mother?" + +"No--no wife. You see--" + +"But I have a mother--" + +"Of course, and she is your daddy's wife. You see they have to +have that--" + +Grant found himself getting into deep water, but the sharp little +intellect had cut a corner and was now ahead of him. + +"Then I'll be your little boy," he said, and, clambering up to +Grant's shoulder pressed a kiss on his cheek. In a sudden burst of +emotion Grant brought his team to a stop and clasped the little +fellow in both his arms. For a moment everything seemed misty. + +"And I have lived to be thirty-two years old and have never known +what this meant," he said to himself. + +"Daddy's hardly ever home, anyway," the boy added, naively. + +"Where is your home?" + +"Down beside the river. We live there in summer." + +And so the conversation continued and the acquaintanceship grew as +man and boy plied back and forth on their mile-long furrow. At +length it occurred to Grant that he should send Wilson home; the +boy's long absence might be occasioning some uneasiness. They +stopped at the end of the field and carefully removed teddy from +his place of prestige, but just at that moment a horsefly buzzing +about caused Prince to stamp impatiently, and the big hoof came +down on the boy's foot. Wilson sent up a cry proportionate to the +possibilities of the occasion, and Grant in alarm tore off the boot +and stocking. Fortunately the soil had been soft, and the only +damage done was a slight bruise across the upper part of the foot. + +"There, there," said Grant, soothingly, caressing the injury with +his fingers. "It will be all right in a minute. Prince didn't +mean to do it, and besides, I've seen much worse than that at the +war." + +At the mention of war the boy suspended a cry half uttered. + +"Were you at the war?" he demanded. + +"Yes." + +"Did you kill a German?" + +"I've seen a German killed," said Grant, evading a question which +no soldier cares to discuss. + +"Did you kill 'em in the tummy?" the boy persisted. + +"We'll talk about that to-morrow. Now you hop up on to my +shoulders, and I'll tie the horses and then carry you home." + +He followed the boy's directions until they led him to a path +running among pleasant trees down by the river. Presently he +caught a glimpse of a cottage in a little open space, its brown +shingled walls almost smothered in a riot of sweet peas. + +"That's our house. Don't you like it?" said the boy, who had +already forgotten his injury. + +"I think it is splendid." And Grant, taking his young charge from +his shoulder, stepped up on to the porch and knocked at the screen +door. + +In a moment it was opened by Zen Transley. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +Sitting on his veranda that evening while the sun dropped low over +the mountains and the sound of horses munching contentedly came up +from the stables, Grant for the twentieth time turned over in his +mind the events of a day that was to stand out as an epochal one in +his career. The meeting with the little boy and the quick +friendship and confidence which had been formed between them; the +mishap, and the trip to the house by the river--these were logical +and easily followed. But why, of all the houses in the world, +should it have been Zen Transley's house? Why, of all the little +boys in the world, should this have been the son of his rival and +the only girl he had ever--the girl he had loved most in all his +life? Surely events are ordered to some purpose; surely everything +is not mere haphazard chance! The fatalism of the trenches forbade +any other conclusion; and if this was so, why had he been thrown +into the orbit of Zen Transley? He had not sought her; he had not +dreamt of her once in all that morning while her child was winding +innocent tendrils of affection about his heart. And yet--how the +boy had gripped him! Could it be that in some way he was a small +incarnation of the Zen of the Y.D., with all her clamorous passion +expressed now in childish love and hero-worship? Had some +intelligence above his own guided him into this environment, +deliberately inviting him to defy conventions and blaze a path of +broader freedom for himself, and for her? These were questions he +wrestled with as the shadows crept down the mountain slopes and +along the valley at his feet. + +For neither Zen nor himself had connived at the situation which had +made them, of all the people in the world, near neighbors in this +silent valley. Her surprise on meeting him at the door had been as +genuine as his. When she had made sure that the boy was not +seriously hurt she had turned to him, and instinctively he had +known that there are some things which all the weight of passing +years can never crush entirely dead. He loved to rehearse her +words, her gestures, the quick play of sympathetic emotions as one +by one he reviewed them. + +"You! I am surprised--I had not known--" She had become confused +in her greeting, and a color that she would have given worlds to +suppress crept slowly through her cheeks. + +"I am surprised, too--and delighted," he had returned. "The little +boy came to me in the field, boasting of his braces." Then they +had both laughed, and she had asked him to come in and tell about +himself. + +The living-room, as he recalled it, was marked by the simplicity +appropriate to the summer home, with just a dash of elegance in the +furnishings to suggest that simplicity was a matter of choice and +not of necessity. After soothing Wilson's sobs, which had broken +out afresh in his mother's arms, she had turned him over to a maid +and drawn a chair convenient to Grant's. + +"You see, I am a farmer now," he had said, apologetically regarding +his overalls. + +"What changes have come! But I don't understand; I thought you +were rich--very rich--and that you were promoting some kind of +settlement scheme. Frank has spoken of it." + +"All of which is true. You see, I am a man of whims. I choose to +live joyously. I refuse to fit into a ready-made niche in society. +I do what other people don't do--mainly for that reason. I have +some peculiar notions--" + +"I know. You told me." And it was then that their eyes had met +and they had fallen into a momentary silence. + +"But why are you farming?" she had exclaimed, brightly. + +"For several reasons. First, the world needs food. Food is the +greatest safeguard--I would almost say the only safeguard--against +anarchy and chaos. Then, I want to learn by experience; to prove +by my own demonstrations that my theories are workable--or that +they're not. And then, most of all, I love the prairies and the +open life. It's my whim, and I follow it." + +"You are very wonderful," she had murmured. And then, with +startling directness, "Are you happy?" + +"As happy as I have any right to be. Happier than I have been +since childhood." + +She had risen and walked to the mantelpiece; then, with an apparent +change of impulse, she had turned and faced him. He had noted that +her figure was rounder than in girlhood, her complexion paler, but +the sunlight still danced in her hair, and her reckless force had +given way to a poise that suggested infinite resources of character. + +"Frank has done well, too," she had said. + +"So I have heard. I am told that he has done very well indeed." + +"He has made money, and he is busy and excited over his pursuit of +success--what he calls success. He has given it his life. He +thinks of nothing else--" + +She had stopped suddenly, as though her tongue had trapped her into +saying more than she had intended. + +"What do you think of my summer home?" she had exclaimed, abruptly. +"Come out and admire the sweet peas," and with a gay little +flourish she had led him into the garden. "They tell me Western +flowers have a brilliance and a fragrance which the East, with all +its advantages, cannot duplicate. Is that true?" + +"I believe it is. The East has greater profusion--more varieties-- +but the individual qualities do not seem to be so well developed." + +"I see you know something of Eastern flowers," she had said, and he +fancied he had caught a note of banter--or was it inquiry?--in her +voice. Then, with another abrupt change of subject, she had made +him describe his house on the hill. But he had said nothing of the +whim-room. + +"I must go," he had exclaimed at length. "I left the horses tied +in the field." + +"So you must. I shall let Wilson visit you frequently, if he is +not a trouble." + +Then she had chosen a couple of blooms and pinned them on his coat, +laughingly overriding his protest that they consorted poorly with +his costume. And she had shaken hands and said good-bye in the +manner of good friends parting. + +The more Grant thought of it the more was he convinced that in her +case, as in his own, the years had failed to extinguish the spark +kindled in the foothills that night so long ago. He reminded +himself continually that she was Transley's wife, and even while +granting the irrevocability of that fact he was demanding to know +why Fate had created for them both an atmosphere charged with +unspoken possibilities. He had turned her words over again and +again, reflecting upon the abrupt angles her speech had taken. In +their few minutes' conversation three times she had had to make a +sudden tack to safer subjects. What had she meant by that +reference to Eastern and Western flowers? His answer reminded him +how well he knew. And the confession about her husband, the +worshipper of success--"what he calls success"--how much tragedy +lay under those light words? + +The valley was filled with shadow, and the level rays of the setting +sun fell on the young man's face and splashed the hill-tops with +gold and saffron as within his heart raged the age-old battle. . . . +But as yet he felt none of its wounds. He was conscious only of a +wholly irrational delight. + +As the next forenoon passed Grant found himself glancing with +increasing frequency toward the end of the field where the little +boy might be expected to appear. But the day wore on without sign +of his young friend, and the furrows which he had turned so +joyously at nine were dragging leadenly at eleven. He had not +thought it possible that a child could so quickly have won a way to +his affections. He fell to wondering as to the cause of the boy's +absence. Had Zen, after a night's reflection, decided that it was +wiser not to allow the acquaintance to develop? Had Transley, +returning home, placed his veto upon it? Or--and his heart paused +at this prospect--had the foot been more seriously hurt than they +had supposed? Grant told himself that he must go over that night +and make inquiry. That would be the neighborly thing to do. . . . + +But early that afternoon his heart was delighted by the sight of a +little figure skipping joyously over the furrows toward him. He +had his hat crumpled in one hand, and his teddy-bear in the other, +and his face was alive with excitement. He was puffing profusely +when he pulled up beside the plow, and Grant stopped the team while +he got his breath. + +"My! My! What is the hurry? I see the foot is all better." + +"We got a pig!" the lad gasped, when he could speak. + +"A pig!" + +"Yessir! A live one, too! He's awful big. A man brought him in a +wagon. That is why I couldn't come this morning." + +Grant treated himself to a humble reflection upon the wisdom of +childish preferments. + +"What are you going to do with him?" + +"Eat him up, I guess. Daddy said there was enough wasted about our +house to keep a pig, so we got one. Aren't you going to take me +up?" + +"Of course. But first we must put teddy in his place." + +"I'm to go home at five o'clock," the boy said, when he had got +properly settled. + +The hours slipped by all too quickly, and if the lad's presence +did not contribute to good plowing, it at least made a cheerful +plowman. It was plain that Zen had sufficient confidence in her +farmer neighbor to trust her boy in his care, and his frequent +references to his mother had an interest for Grant which he could +not have analyzed or explained. During the afternoon the merits of +the pig were sung and re-sung, and at last Wilson, after kissing +his friend on the cheek and whispering, "I like you, Uncle Man-on- +the-Hill," took his teddy-bear under his arm and plodded homeward. + +The next morning he came again, but mournfully and slow. There +were tear stains on the little round cheeks. + +"Why, son, what had happened?" said Grant, his abundant sympathies +instantly responding. + +"Teddy's spoiled," the child sobbed. "I set him--on the side of-- +the pig pen, and he fell'd in, and the big pig et him--ate him--up. +He didn't 'zactly eat him up, either--just kind of chewed him, +like." + +"Well that certainly is too bad. But then, you're going to eat the +pig some day, so that will square it, won't it?" + +"I guess it will," said the boy, brightening. "I never thought of +that." + +"But we must have a teddy for Prince. See, he is looking around, +waiting for it." Grant folded his coat into the shape of a dummy +and set it up on the hames, and all went merrily again. + +That afternoon, which was Saturday, the boy came thoughtfully and +with an air of much importance. Delving into a pocket he produced +an envelope, somewhat crumpled in transit. It was addressed, "The +Man on the Hill." + +Grant tore it open eagerly and read this note: + + +"DEAR MAN-ON-THE-HILL,--That is the name Wilson calls you, so +perhaps you will let me use it, too. Frank is to be home to- +morrow, and will you come and have dinner with us at six? My +father and mother will be here, and possibly one or two others. +You had a clash with my men-folk once, but you will find them ready +enough to make allowance for, even if they fail to understand, your +point of view. Do come.--ZEN. + +"P.S.--It just occurs to me that your associates in your colonization +scheme may want to claim your time on Sunday. If any of them come +out, bring them along. Our table is an extension one, and its +capacity has never yet been exhausted." + + +Although Grant's decision was made at once he took some time for +reflection before writing an acceptance. He was to enter Zen's +house on her invitation, but under the auspices, so to speak, of +husband and parents. That was eminently proper. Zen was a +sensible girl. Then there was a reference to that ancient squabble +in the hay meadow. It was evidently her plan to see the hatchet +buried and friendly relations established all around. Eminently +proper and sensible. + +He turned the sheet over and wrote on the back: + + +"DEAR ZEN,--Delighted to come. May have a couple of friends with +me, one of whom you have seen before. Prepare for an appetite long +denied the joys of home cooking.--D. G." + + +It was not until after the child had gone home that Grant +remembered he had addressed Transley's wife by her Christian name. +That was the way he always thought of her, and it slipped on to +paper quite naturally. Well, it couldn't be helped now. + +Grant unhitched early and hurried to his house and the telephone. +In a few minutes he had Linder on the line. + +"Hello, Linder? I want you to go to a store for me and buy a +teddy-bear." + +The chuckle at the other end of the line irritated Grant. Linder +had a strange sense of humor. + +"I mean it. A big teddy, with electric eyes, and a deep bass +growl, if they make 'em that way. The best you can get. Fetch it +out to-morrow afternoon, and come decently dressed, for once. +Bring Murdoch along if you can pry him loose." + +Grant hung up the receiver. "Stupid chap, Linder, some ways," he +muttered. "Why shouldn't I buy a teddy-bear if I want to?" + +Sunday afternoon saw the arrival of Linder and Murdoch, with the +largest teddy the town afforded. "What is the big idea now?" +Linder demanded, as he delivered it into Grant's hands. + +"It is for a little boy I know who has been bereaved of his first +teddy by the activities of the family pig. You will renew some +pleasant acquaintanceships, Linder. You remember Transley and his +wife--Zen, of the Y.D?" + +"You don't say! Thanks for that tip about dressing up. I may +explain," Linder continued, turning to Murdoch, "there was a time +when I might have been an also-ran in the race for Y.D.'s daughter, +only Transley beat me on the getaway." + +"You!" Grant exclaimed, incredulously. + +"You, too!" Linder returned, a great light dawning. + +"Well, Mr. Grant," said Murdoch, "I brought you a good cigar, +bought at the company's expense. It comes out of the organization +fund. You must be sick of those cheap cigars." + +"Since the war it is nothing but Player's," Grant returned, taking +the proffered cigar. "They tell me it has revolutionized the +tobacco business. However, this does smell a bit all right. How +goes our venture, Murdoch? Have I any prospect of being impoverished +in a worthy cause?" + +"None whatever. Your foreman here is spending every dollar in a +way to make you two in spite of your daft notion--begging your +pardon, sir--about not taking profits. The subscribers are coming +along for stock, but fingering it gently, as though they can't well +believe there's no catch in it. They say it doesn't look reasonable, +and I tell them no more it is." + +"And then they buy it?" + +"Aye, they do. That's human nature. There's as many members +booked now as can be accommodated in the first colony. I suppose +they reason that they will be sure of their winter's housing, +anyway." + +"You don't seem to have much faith in human nature, Murdoch." + +"Nor have I. Not in that kind of human nature which is always +wanting something for nothing." + +Linder's report was more cheerful. The houses and barns were built +and were now being painted, the plowing was done, and the fences +were being run. By the use of a triangular system of survey twelve +farm homes had been centralized in one little community where a +community building would be erected which would be used as a school +in daytime, a motion-picture house at night, and a church on +Sunday. A community secretary would have his office here, and +would have charge of a select little library of fiction, poetry, +biography, and works of reference. The leading periodicals dealing +with farm problems, sociology, and economics, as well as lighter +subjects, would be on file. In connection with this building would +be an assembly-room suitable for dances, social events, and +theatricals, and equipped with a player piano and concert-size +talking machine. Arrangements were being made for a weekly +exchange of records, for a weekly musical evening by artists from +the city, for a semi-monthly vaudeville show, and for Sunday +meetings addressed by the best speakers on the more serious topics +of the time. + +"What has surprised me in making these arrangements," Linder +confessed, "is the comparatively small outlay they involve. The +building will cost no more than many communities spend on school +and church which they use thirty hours a week and three hours a +week respectively. This one can be used one hundred and sixty- +eight hours a week, if needed. Lecturers on many subjects can be +had for paying their expenses; in some cases they are employed by +the Government, and will come without cost. Amateur theatrical +companies from the city will be glad to come in return for an +appreciative audience and a dance afterward, with a good fill-up on +solid farm cooking. Even some of the professionals can be had on +these terms. Of course, before long we will produce our own +theatricals. + +"Then there is to be a plunge bath big enough to swim in, open to +men and women alternate nights, and to children every day. There +will be a pool-room, card-room, and refreshment buffet; also a +quiet little room for women's social events, and an emergency +hospital ward. I think we should hire a trained nurse who would +not be too dignified to cook and serve meals when there's no +business doing in the hospital. You know how everyone gets +hankering now and then for a meal from home,--not that it's any +better, but it's different. I suppose there are farmer's wives who +don't get a meal away from home once a year. I'm going to change +all that, if I have to turn cook myself!" + +"Bully for you, Linder!" said Grant, clapping him on the shoulder. +"I believe you actually are enthusiastic for once." + +"I understand my orders are to make the country give the city a run +for its money, and I'm going to do it, or break you. If all I've +mentioned won't do it I've another great scheme in storage." + +"Good! What is it?" + +"I am inventing a machine that will make a noise like a trolley-car +and a smell like a sewer. That will add the last touch in city +refinements." + +When the laugh over Linder's invention had subsided Murdoch +broached another. + +"The office work is becoming pretty heavy, Mr. Grant, and I'm none +too confident in the help I have. Now if I could send for Miss +Bruce--" + +"What do you think you should pay her?" + +"I should say she is worth a hundred dollars a month." + +"Then she must be worth two hundred. Wire her to come and start +her at that figure." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Promptly at six Linder drew his automobile up in front of the +Transley summer home with Grant and Murdoch on board. Wilson had +been watching, and rushed down upon them, but before he could +clamber up on Grant a great teddy-bear was thrust into his arms and +sent him, wild with delight, to his mother. + +"Look, mother! Look what The-Man-on-the-Hill brought! See! He +has fire in his eyes!" + +Transley and Y.D. met the guests at the gate. "How do, Grant? +Glad to see you, old man," said Transley, shaking his hand +cordially. "The wife has had so many good words for you I am +almost jealous. What ho, Linder! By all that's wonderful! You +old prairie dog, why did you never look me up? I was beginning to +think the Boche had got you." + +Grant introduced Murdoch, and Y.D. received them as cordially as +had Transley. "Glad to see you fellows back," he exclaimed. "I +al'us said the Western men 'ud put a crimp in the Kaiser, spite o' +hell an' high water!" + +"One thing the war has taught us," said Grant, modestly, "is that +men are pretty much alike, whether they come from west or east or +north or south. No race has a monopoly of heroism." + +"Well, come on in," Transley beckoned, leading the way. "Dinner +will be ready sharp on time twenty minutes late. Not being a +married man, Grant, you will not understand that reckoning. You'll +have to excuse Mrs. Transley a few minutes; she's holding down the +accelerator in the kitchen. Come in; I want you to meet Squiggs." + +Squiggs proved to be a round man with huge round tortoise-shell +glasses and round red face to match. He shook hands with a manner +that suggested that in doing so he was making rather a good fellow +of himself. + +"We must have a little lubrication, for Y.D.'s sake," said +Transley, producing a bottle and glasses. "I suppose it was the +dust on the plains that gave these old cow punchers a thirst which +never can be slaked. These be evil days for the old-timers. +Grant?" + +"Not any, thanks." + +"No? Well, there's no accounting for tastes. Squiggs?" + +"I'm a lawyer," said Squiggs, "and as booze is now ultra vires I do +my best to keep it down," and Mr. Squiggs beamed genially upon his +pleasantry and the full glass in his hand. + +"I take a snort when I want it and I don't care who knows it," said +Y.D. "I al'us did, and I reckon I'll keep on to the finish. It +didn't snuff me out in my youth and innocence, anyway. Just the +same, I'm admittin' it's bad medicine in onskilful hands. Here's +ho!" + +The glasses had just been drained when Mrs. Transley entered the +room, flushed but radiant from a strenuous half hour in the +kitchen. + +"Well, here you are!" she exclaimed. "So glad you could come, Mr. +Grant. Why, Mr. Linder! Of all people-- This IS a pleasure. And +Mr.--?" + +"Mr. Murdoch," Transley supplied. + +"My chief of staff; the man who persists in keeping me rich," Grant +elaborated. + +"I mustn't keep you waiting longer. Dinner is ready. Dad, you are +to carve." + +"Hanged if I will! I'm a guest here, and I stand on my rights," +Y.D. exploded. + +"Then you must do it, Frank." + +"I suppose so," said Transley, "although all I get out of a meal +when I have to carve is splashing and profanity. You know, +Squiggs, I've figured it out that this practice of requiring the +nominal head of the house to carve has come down from the days when +there wasn't usually enough to go 'round, and the carver had to +make some fine decisions and, perhaps, maintain them by force. It +has no place under modern civilization." + +"Except that someone must do it, and it's about the only household +responsibility man has not been able to evade," said Mrs. Transley. + +As they entered the dining-room Zen's mother, whiter and it seemed +even more distinguished by the years, joined them, accompanied by +Mrs. Squiggs, a thin woman much concerned about social status, and +the party was complete. + +Transley managed the carving more skilfully than his protest might +have suggested, and there was a lull in the conversation while the +first demands of appetite were being satisfied. + +"Tell us about your settlement scheme, Mr. Grant," Mrs. Transley +urged when it seemed necessary to find a topic. "Mr. Grant has +quite a wonderful plan." + +"Yes, wise us up, old man," said Transley. "I've heard something +of it, but never could see through it." + +"It's all very simple," Grant explained. "I am providing the +capital to start a few families on farms. Instead of lending the +money directly to them I am financing a company in which each +farmer must subscribe for stock to the value of the land he is to +occupy. His stock he will pay for with a part of the proceeds of +each year's crop, until it is paid in full, when he becomes a paid- +up shareholder, subject to no further call except a levy which may +be made for running expenses." + +"And then your advances are returned to you with interest," Squiggs +suggested. "A very creditable plan of benefaction; very creditable, +indeed." + +"No, that is not the idea. In the first place, I am accepting no +interest on my advances, and in the second place the money, when +repaid by the shareholders, will not be returned to me, but will be +used to establish another colony on the same basis, and so on--the +movement will be extended from group to group." + +Mr. Squiggs readjusted his large round tortoise-shell glasses. + +"Do I understand that you are charging no interest?" + +"Not a cent." + +"Then where do YOU come in?" + +"I had hoped to make it clear that I am not seeking to 'come in.' +You see, the money I am doing this with is not really mine at all." + +"Not yours?" cried a chorus of voices. + +"No. Mr. Squiggs, you are a lawyer, and therefore a man of +perspicuity and accurate definitions. What is money?" + +"You flatter me. I should say that money is a medium for the +exchange of value." + +"Very well. Therefore, if a man accepts money without giving value +for it in exchange he is violating the fundamental principle +underlying the use of money. He is, in short, an economic outlaw." + +"I am afraid I don't follow you." + +"Let me illustrate by my own experience, and that of my family. My +father was possessed of a piece of land which at one time had +little or no value. Eventually it became of great value, not +through anything he had done, but as a result of the natural law +that births exceed deaths. Yet he, although he had done nothing to +create this value, was able, through a faulty economic system, to +pocket the proceeds. Then, as a result of the advantages which his +wealth gave him, he was able to extract from society throughout all +the remainder of his life value out of all proportion to any return +he made for it. Finally it came down to me. Holding my peculiar +belief, which my right and left bower consider sinful and silly +respectively, I found money forced upon me, regardless of the fact +that I had given absolutely no value in exchange. Now if money is +a medium for the exchange of value and I receive money without +giving value for it, it is plain that someone else must have parted +with money without receiving value in return. The thing is +basically immoral." + +"Your father couldn't take it with him." + +"But why should _I_ have it? I never contributed a finger-weight +of service for it. From society the money came and to society it +should return." + +"You should worry," said Transley. "Society isn't worrying over +you. Some more of the roast beef?" + +"No, thank you. But to come down to date. It seems that I cannot +get away from this wealth which dogs me at every turn. Before +enlisting I had been margining certain steel stocks, purely in the +ordinary course of affairs. With the demands made by the war on +the steel industry my stocks went up in price and my good friend +Murdoch was able to report that it had made a fortune for me while +I was overseas. . . . And we call ourselves an intelligent +people!" + +"And so we are," said Mr. Squiggs. "We stick to a system we know +to be sound. It has weathered all the gales of the past, and +promises to weather those of the future. I tell you, Grant, +communism won't work. You can't get away from the principle of +individual reward for individual effort." + +"My dear fellow, that's exactly what I'm pleading for. I have no +patience with any claim that all men are equal, or capable of +rendering equal service to society, and I want payment to be made +according to service rendered, not according to the freaks of a +haphazard system such as I have been trying to describe." + +"But how are you going to bring that golden age about?" Murdoch +inquired. + +"By education. The first thing is to accept the principle that +wealth cannot be accepted except in exchange for full-measure +service. You, Mrs. Transley--you teach your little boy that he +must not steal. As he grows older simply widen your definition of +theft to include receiving value without giving value in exchange. +When all the mothers begin teaching that principle the golden age +which Mr. Murdoch inquires about will be in sight." + +"How would you drive it home?" said Y.D. "We have too many laws +already." + +"Let us agree on that. The acceptance of this principle will make +half the laws now cluttering our statute books unnecessary. I +merely urge that we should treat the CAUSE of our economic malady +rather than the symptoms." + +"Theoretically your idea has much to commend it, but it is quite +impracticable," Mr. Squiggs announced with some finality. "It +could never be brought into effect." + +"If a corporation can determine the value of the service rendered +by each of its hundred thousand employees, why cannot a nation +determine the value of the service rendered by each of its hundred +million citizens?" + +"THERE'S something for you to chew on, Squiggs," said Transley. +"You argue your case well, Grant; I believe you have our legal +light rather feazed--that's the word, isn't it, Mr. Murdoch?--for +once. I confess a good deal of sympathy with your point of view, +but I'm afraid you can't change human nature." + +"I am not trying to do that. All that needs changing is the +popular idea of what is right and what is wrong. And that idea is +changing with a rapidity which is startling. Before the war the +man who made money, by almost any means, was set up on a pedestal +called Success. Moralists pointed to him as one to be emulated; +Sunday school papers printed articles to show that any boy might +follow in his footsteps and become great and respected. To-day, +for following precisely the same practices, the nation demands that +he be thrown into prison; the Press heaps contumely upon him; he +has become an object of suspicion in the popular eye. This change, +world wide and quite unforeseen, has come about in five years." + +"Is that due to a new sense of right and wrong, or to just old- +fashioned envy of the rich which now feels strong enough to +threaten where it used to fawn?" Y.D.'s wife asked, and Grant was +spared a hard answer by the rancher's interruption, "Hit the +profiteer as hard as you like. He's got no friends." + +"That depends upon who is the profiteer--a point which no one seems +to have settled. In the cities you may even hear prosperous +ranchers included in that class--absurd as that must seem to you," +Grant added, with a smile to Y.D. "Require every man to give +service according to his returns and you automatically eliminate +all profiteers, large and small." + +"But you will admit," said Mrs. Squiggs, "that we must have some +well-off people to foster culture and give tone to society +generally?" + +"I agree that the boy who is brought up in a home with a bath tub, +and all that that stands for, is likely to be a better citizen than +the boy who doesn't have that advantage. That's why I want every +home to have a bath tub." + +Mrs. Squiggs subsided rather heavily. In youth her Saturday night +ablutions had been taken in the middle of the kitchen floor. + +"I have a good deal of sympathy," said Transley, "with any movement +which has for its purpose the betterment of human conditions. Any +successful man of to-day will admit, if he is frank about it, that +he owes his success as much to good luck as to good judgment. If +you could find a way, Grant, to take the element of luck out of +life, perhaps you would be doing a service which would justify you +in keeping those millions which worry you so. But I can't see that +it makes any difference to the prosperity of a country who owns the +wealth in it, so long as the wealth is there and is usefully +employed. Money doesn't grow unless it works, and if it works it +serves Society just the same as muscle does. You could put all +your wealth in a strong-box and bury it under your house up there +on the hill, and it wouldn't increase a nickel in a thousand years, +but if you put it to work it makes money for you and money for +other people as well. I'm a little nervous about new-fangled +notions. It's easier to wreck the ship than to build a new one, +which may not sail any better. What the world needs to-day is the +gospel of hard work, and everybody, rich and poor, on the job for +all that's in him. That's the only way out." + +"We seem to have much in common," Grant returned. "Hard work is +the only way out, and the best way to encourage hard work is to +find a system by which every man will be rewarded according to the +service rendered." + +At this point Mrs. Transley arose, and the men moved out into the +living-room to chat on less contentious subjects. After a time the +women joined them, and Grant presently found himself absorbed in +conversation with the old rancher's wife. Zen seemed to pay but +little attention to him, and for the first time he began to realize +what consummate actresses women are. Had Transley been the most +suspicious of husbands--and in reality his domestic vision was as +guileless as that of a boy--he could have caught no glint of any +smoldering spark of the long ago. Grant found himself thinking of +this dissembling quality as one of nature's provisions designed for +the protection of women, much as the sombre plumage of the prairie +chicken protects her from the eye of the sportsman. For after all +the hunting instinct runs through all men, be the game what it may. + +Before they realized how the time had flown Linder was protesting +that he must be on his way. At the gate Transley put a hand on +Grant's shoulder. + +"I'm prepared to admit," he said, "that there's a whole lot in this +old world that needs correcting, but I'm not sure that it can be +corrected. You have a right to try out your experiments, but take +a tip and keep a comfortable cache against the day when you'll want +to settle down and take things as they are. It is true and always +has been true that a man who is worth his salt, when he wants a +thing, takes it--or goes down in the attempt. The loser may +squeal, but that seems to be the path of progress. You can't beat +it." + +"Well, we'll see," said Grant, laughing. "Sometimes two men, each +worth his salt, collide." + +"As in the meadow of the South Y.D.," said Transley, with a smile. +"You remember that, Y.D.--when our friend here upset the haying +operations?" + +"Sure, I remember, but I'm not holdin' it agin him now. A dead +horse is a dead horse, an' I don't go sniffin' it." + +"Perhaps I ought to say, though," Grant returned, "that I really do +not know how the iron pegs got into that meadow." + +"And I don't know how your haystacks got afire, but I can guess. +Remember Drazk? A little locoed, an' just the crittur to pull off +a fool stunt like that. When the fire swept up the valley, instead +of down, he made his get-away and has never been seen since. I +reckon likely there was someone in Landson's gang capable o' +drivin' pegs without consultin' the boss." + +The little group were standing in the shadow and Grant had no +opportunity to notice the sudden blanching of Zen's face at the +mention of Drazk. + +"You're wrong about his not having been seen again, Y.D.," said +Grant. "He managed to locate me somewhere in France. That reminds +me, he had a message for you, Mrs. Transley. I'm afraid Drazk is +as irresponsible as ever, provided he hasn't passed out, which is +more than likely." + +Grant shook hands cordially with Y.D. and his wife, with Squiggs +and Mrs. Squiggs, with Transley and Mrs. Transley. Any inclination +he may have felt to linger over Zen's hand was checked by her quick +withdrawal of it, and there was something in her manner quite +beyond his understanding. He could have sworn that the self- +possessed Zen Transley was actually trembling. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +The next day Wilson paid his usual visit to the field where Grant +was plowing, and again was he the bearer of a message. With much +difficulty he managed to extricate the envelope from a pocket. + +"Dear Mr. Grant," it read, "I am so excited over a remark you +dropped last night I must see you again as soon as possible. Can +you drop in to-night, say at eight. Yours,--ZEN." + +Grant read the message a second time, wondering what remark of his +could have occasioned it. As he recalled the evening's conversation +it had been most about his experiment, and he had a sense that he +had occupied a little more of the stage than strictly good form +would have suggested. However, it was HIS scheme that had been +under discussion, and he did not propose to let it suffer for lack +of a champion. But what had he said that could be of more than +general interest to Zen Transley? For a moment he wondered if she +had created a pretext upon which to bring him to the house by the +river, and then instantly dismissed that thought as unworthy of him. +At any rate it was evident that his addressing her by her Christian +name in the last message had given no offence. This time she had +not called him "The Man-on-the-Hill," and there was no suggestion of +playfulness in the note. Then the signature, "Yours, Zen"; that +might mean everything, or it might mean nothing. Either it was +purely formal or it implied a very great deal indeed. Grant +reflected that it could hardly be interpreted anywhere between those +two extremes, and was it reasonable to suppose that Zen would use it +in an ENTIRELY formal sense? If it had been "yours truly," or +"yours sincerely," or any such stereotyped conclusion, it would not +have called for a second thought, but the simple word "yours"-- + +"If only she were," thought Grant, and felt the color creeping to +his face at the thought. It was the first time he had dared that +much. He had not bothered to wonder much where or how this affair +must end. Through all the years that had passed since that night +when she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he had watched the +ribbons of fire rising and falling in the valley, and the smell of +grass-smoke had been strong in his nostrils, through all those +years Zen had been to him a sweet, evasive memory to be dreamed +over and idealized, a wild, daring, irresponsible incarnation of +the spirit of the hills. Even in these last few days he had +followed the path simply because it lay before him. He had not +sought her out in all that great West; he had been content with his +dream of the Zen of years gone by; if Fate had brought him once +more within the orbit of his star surely Fate had a purpose in all +its doings. One who has learned to believe that no bullet will +find him unless "his name and number are on it" has little +difficulty in excusing his own indiscretions by fatalistic +reasoning. + +He wrote on the back of the note, "Look for me at eight," and then, +observing that the boy had not brought teddy along, he inquired +solicitously for the health of the little pet. + +"He's all right, but mother wouldn't let me bring him. Said I +might lose him." The tone in which the last words were spoken +implied just how impossible such a thing was. Lose teddy! No one +but a mother could think such an absurdity. + +"But I got a knife!" Wilson exclaimed, his mind darting to a +happier subject. "Daddy gave it to me. Will you sharpen it? It +is as dull as a pig." + +Grant was to learn during the day that all the boy's figures of +speech were now hung on the family pig. The knife was as dull as a +pig; the plow was as rough as a pig; the horses, when they capered +at a corner, were as wild as a pig; even Grant himself, while he +held the little chap firmly on his knee, received the doubtful +compliment of being as strong as a pig. He went through the form +of sharpening the knife on the leather lines of the harness, and +was pleased to discover that Wilson, with childish dexterity of +imagination, now pronounced it as sharp as a pig. + +The boy did not return to the field in the afternoon, and Grant +spent the time in a strange admixture of happiness over the +pleasant companionship he had found in this little son of the +prairies and anticipation of his meeting with Zen that night. All +his reflection had failed to suggest the subject so interesting to +her as to bring forth her unconventional note, but it was enough +for him that his presence was desired. As to the future--he would +deal with that when he came to it. As evening approached the +horses began their usual procedure of turning their heads homeward +at the end of each furrow. Beginning about five o'clock, they had +a habit of assuming that each furrow was obviously the last one for +the day, and when the firm hand on the lines brought them sharply +back to position they trudged on with an apologetic air which +seemed to say that of course they were quite willing to work +another hour or two but they supposed their master would want to be +on his way home. Today, however, he surprised them, and the first +time they turned their heads he unhitched, and, throwing himself +lightly across Prince's ample back, drove them to their stables. + +Grant prepared his supper of bacon and eggs and fried potatoes, +bread and jam and black tea, and ate it from the kitchen table as +was his habit except on state occasions. Sometimes a touch of the +absurdity of his behavior would tickle his imagination--he, who +might dine in the midst of wealth and splendor, with soft lights +beating down upon him, soft music swelling through arching +corridors, soft-handed waiters moving about on deep, silent +carpetings, perhaps round white shoulders across the table and the +faint smell of delicate perfumes--that he should prefer to eat from +the white oilcloth of his kitchen table was a riddle far beyond any +ordinary intellect. And yet he was happy in this life; happy in +his escape from the tragic routine of being decently civilized; +happier, he knew, than he ever could be among all the artificial +pleasures that wealth could buy him. Sometimes, as a concession to +this absurdity, he would set his table in the dining-room with his +best dishes, and eat his silent meal very grandly, until the +ridiculousness of it all would overcome him and he would jump up +with a boyish whoop and sweep everything into the kitchen. + +But to-night he had no time for make-belief. Supper ended, he put +a basin of water on the stove and went out to give his horses their +evening attention, after which he had a wash and a careful shave +and dressed himself in a light grey suit appropriate to an autumn +evening. And then he noticed that he had just time to walk to +Transley's house before eight o'clock. + +Zen received him at the door; the maid had gone to a neighbor's, +she said, and Wilson was in bed. It was still bright outside, but +the sheltered living-room, to which she showed him, was wrapped in +a soft twilight. + +"Shall we have a lamp, or the fireplace?" she asked, then +inferentially answered by saying that a cool wind was blowing down +from the mountains. "I had the maid build the fire," she +continued, and he could see the outline of her form bending over +the grate. She struck a match; its glow lit up her cheeks and +hair; in a moment the dry wood was crackling and ribbons of blue +smoke were curling into the chimney. + +"I have been so anxious to see you--again," she said, drawing a +chair not far from his. "A chance remark of yours last night +brought to memory many things--things I have been trying to +forget." Then, abruptly, "Did you ever kill a man?" + +"You know I was in the war," he returned, evading her question. + +"Yes, and you do not care to dwell on that phase of it. I should +not have asked you, but you will be the better able to understand. +For years I have lived under the cloud of having killed a man." + +"You!" + +"Yes. The day of the fire--you remember?" + +Grant had started from his chair. "I can't believe it!" he +exclaimed. "There must have been justification!" + +"YOU had justification at the Front, but it doesn't make the memory +pleasant. I had justification, but it has haunted me night and +day. And then, last night you said he was still alive, and my soul +seemed to rise up again and say, 'I am free!'" + +"Who?" + +"Drazk." + +"DRAZK!" + +"Yes. I thought I had killed him that day of the fire. It is +rather an unpleasant story, and you will excuse me repeating the +details, I know. He attacked me--we were both on horseback, in the +river--I suppose he was crazed with his wild deed, and less +responsible than usual. He dragged me from my horse and I fought +with him in the water, but he was much too strong. I had concluded +that to drown myself, and perhaps him, was the only way out, when I +saw a leather thong floating in the water from the saddle. By a +ruse I managed to flip it around his neck, and the next moment he +was at my mercy. I had no mercy then. I understand how it might +be possible to kill prisoners. I pulled it tight, tight--pulled +till I saw his face blacken and his eyes stand out. He went down, +but still I pulled. And then after a little I found myself on +shore. + +"I suppose it was the excitement of the fire that carried me on +through the day, but at night--you remember?--there came a +reaction, and I couldn't keep awake. I suddenly seemed to feel +that I was safe, and I could sleep." + +Grant had resumed his seat. He was deeply moved by this strange +confidence; he bent his eyes intently upon her face, now shining in +the ruddy light from the fire-place. Her frank reference to the +event that night seemed to create a new bond between them; he knew +now, if ever he had doubted it, that Zen Transley had treasured +that incident in her heart even as he had treasured it. + +"I was so embarrassed after the--the accident, you know," she +continued. "I knew you must know I had been in the water. For +days and weeks I expected every hour to hear of the finding of the +body. I expected to hear the remark dropped casually by every new +visitor at the ranch, 'Drazk's body was found to-day in the river. +The Mounted Police are investigating.' But time went on and +nothing was heard of it. It would almost have been a relief to me +if it had been discovered. If I had reported the affair at once, +as I should have done, all would have been different, but having +kept my secret for a while I found it impossible to confess it +later. It was the first time I ever felt my self-reliance severely +shaken. . . . But what was his message, and why did you not tell +me before?" + +"Because I attached no value to it; because I was, perhaps, a +little ashamed of it. I learned something of his weaknesses at the +Front. According to Drazk's statement of it he won the war, and +could as easily win another, if occasion presented itself, so when +he said, 'If ever you see Y.D.'s daughter tell her I'm well; she'll +be glad to hear it,' I put it down to his usual boasting and +thought no more about it. I thought he was trying to impress me +with the idea that you were interested in him, which was a very +absurd supposition, as I saw it." + +"Well, now you know," she said, with a little laugh. "I'm glad +it's off my mind." + +"Of course your husband knows?" + +"No. That made it harder. I never told Frank." + +She arose and walked to the fire-place, pretending to stir the +logs. When she had seated herself again she continued. + +"It has not been easy for me to tell all things to Frank. Don't +misunderstand me; he has been a model husband, according to my +standards." + +"According to your standards?" + +"According to my standards--when I married him. If standards were +permanent I suppose happy matings would be less unusual. A young +couple must have something in common in order to respond at all to +each other's attractions, but as they grow older they set up +different standards, and they drift apart." + +She paused, and Grant sat in silence, watching the glow of the +firelight upon her cheek. + +"Why don't you smoke?" she exclaimed, suddenly springing up. "Let +me find you some of Frank's cigars." + +Grant protested that he smoked too much. She produced a box of +cigars and extended them to him. Then she held a match while he +got his light. + +"Your standards have changed?" said Grant, taking up the thread +when she had sat down again. + +"They have. They have changed more than Frank's, which makes me +feel rather at fault in the matter. How could he know that I would +change my ideal of what a husband should be?" + +"Why shouldn't he know? That is the course of development. +Without changing ideals there would be stagnation." + +"Perhaps," she returned, and he thought he caught a note of +weariness in her voice. "But I don't blame Frank--now. I rather +blame him then. He swept me off my feet; stampeded me. My parents +helped him, and I was only half disposed to resist. You see, I had +this other matter on my mind, and for the first time in my life I +felt the need of protection. Besides, I took a matter-of-fact view +of marriage. I thought that sentiment--love, if you like--was a +thing of books, an invention of poets and fiction writers. +Practical people would be practical in their marriages, as in their +other undertakings. To marry Frank seemed a very practical course. +My father assured me that Frank had in him qualities of large +success. He would make money; he would be a prominent man in +circles of those who do things. These predictions he has +fulfilled. Frank has been all I expected--then." + +"But you have changed your opinion of marriage--of the essentials +of marriage?" + +"Do YOU need to ask that? I was beginning to see the light-- +beginning to know myself--even before I married him, but I didn't +stop to analyze. I plunged ahead, as I have always done, trusting +not to get into any position from which I could not find a way out. +But there are some positions from which there is no way out." + +Grant reflected that possibly his experience had been somewhat +like hers in that respect. He, too, had been following a path, +unconcerned about its end. . . . Possibly for him, too, there +would be no way out. + +"Frank has been all I expected of him," she repeated, as though +anxious to do her husband justice. "He has made money. He spends +it generously. If I live here modestly, with but one maid, it is +because of a preference which I have developed for simplicity. I +might have a dozen if I asked it, and I think Frank is somewhat +surprised, and, it may be, disappointed, that I don't ask it. +Although not a man for display himself, he likes to see me make +display. It's a strange thing, isn't it, that a husband should +wish his wife to be admired by other men?" + +"Some are successful in that," Grant remarked. + +"Some are more successful than they intend to be." + +"Frank, for instance?" he queried, pointedly. + +"I have not sought any man's admiration," she went on, with her +astonishing frankness. "I am too independent for that. What do I +care for their admiration? But every woman wants love." + +Grant had changed his position, and sat with his elbows upon his +knees, his chin resting upon his hands. "You know, Zen," he said, +using her Christian name deliberately, "the picture I drew that day +by the river? That is the picture I have carried in my mind ever +since--shall carry to the end. Perhaps it has led me to be +imprudent--" + +"Imprudent?" + +"Has brought me here to-night, for example." + +"You had my invitation." + +"True. But why develop another situation which, as you say, has no +way out?" + +"Do you want to go?" + +"No, Zen, no! I want to stay--with you--always! But organized +society must respect its own conventions." + +She arose and stood by his chair, letting her hand fall beside his +cheek. + +"You silly boy!" she said. "You didn't organize society, nor +subscribe to its conventions. Still, I suppose there must be a +code of some kind, and we shall respect it. You had your chance, +Denny, and you passed it up." + +"Had my chance?" + +"Yes. I refused you in words, I know, but actions speak louder--" + +"But when you told me you were engaged what could I honorably do?" + +"More--very much more--than you can do now. You could have shown +me my mistake. How much better to have learned it then, from you, +than later, by my own experience! You could have swept me off my +feet, just as Frank did. You did nothing. If I had sought +evidence to prove how impractical you are, as compared with my +super-practical husband, I would have found it in the way you +handled, or rather failed to handle, that situation." + +"What would your super-practical husband do now if he were in my +position?" he said, drawing her hands into his. + +"I don't know." + +"You do! He says that any man worth his salt takes what he wants +in this world. Am I worth my salt?" + +"There are different standards of value. . . . Goodness! how late +it is! You must go now, and don't come back before, let us say, +Wednesday." + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Whatever may have been Grant's philosophy about the unwisdom of +creating a situation which had no way out he found himself looking +forward impatiently to Wednesday evening. An hour or two at Zen's +fireside provided the social atmosphere which his bachelor life +lacked, and as Transley seemed unappreciative of his domestic +privileges, remaining in town unless his business brought him out +to the summer home, it seemed only a just arrangement that they +should be shared by one who valued them at their worth. + +The Wednesday evening conversation developed further the +understanding that was gradually evolving between them, but it +afforded no solution of the problem which confronted them. Zen +made no secret of the error she had made in the selection of her +husband, but had no suggestions to offer as to what should be done +about it. She seemed quite satisfied to enjoy Grant's conversation +and company, and let it go at that--an impossible situation, as the +young man assured himself. She dismissed him again at a quite +respectable hour with some reference to Saturday evening, which +Grant interpreted as an invitation to call again at that time. + +When he entered Saturday night it was evident that she had been +expecting him. A cool wind was again blowing down from the +mountains, laden with the soft smell of melting snow, and the fire +in the grate was built ready for the match. + +"I am my own maid to-night," she said, as she stooped to light it. +"Sarah usually goes to town Saturday evening. Now we shall see if +someone is in good humor." + +The fire curled up pleasantly about the wood. "There!" she +exclaimed, clapping her hands. "All is well. You see how +economical I am; if we must spend on fires we save on light. I +love a wood fire; I suppose it is something which reaches back to +the original savage in all of us." + +"To the days when our great ancestors roasted their victims while +they danced about the coals," said Grant, completing the picture. +"And yet they say that human nature doesn't change." + +"Does it? I think our methods change with our environments, but +that is all. Wasn't it you who propounded a theory about an age +when men took what they wanted by force giving way to an age in +which they took what they wanted by subtlety? Now, I believe, you +want society to restrain the man of clever wits just as it has +learned to restrain the man of big biceps. And when that is done +will not man discover some other means of taking what he wants?" + +She had seated herself beside him on a divanette and the joy of her +nearness fired Grant with a very happy intoxication. It recalled +that night on the hillside when, as she had since said, she felt +safe in his protection. + +"I am really very interested," she continued. "I followed the +argument at the table on Sunday with as much concern as if it had +been my pet hobby, not yours, that was under discussion. If I said +little it was because I did not wish to appear too interested." + +Her amazing frankness brought Grant, figuratively, to his feet at +every turn. She seemed to have no desire to conceal her interest +in him, her attachment for him. Hers was such candor as might well +be born of the vast hillsides, the great valleys, the brooding +silences of her girlhood. Yet it seemed obvious that she must be +less candid with Transley. . . . + +"I am glad you were interested," he answered. "I was afraid I was +rather boring the company, but it was MY scheme and I had to stand +up for it. I fear I made few converts." + +"You were dealing with practical men," she returned, "and practical +men are never converted to a new idea. That is one of the things I +have learned in my years of married life, Dennison. Practical men +find many ways of turning an old idea to advantage, but they never +evolve new ones. New ideas come from dreamers--theoretical fellows +like you." + +"The dreamer is always a lap ahead of the rest of civilization, and +the funny thing is that the rest always thinks itself much more +sane than the dreamer, out there blazing the way." + +"That's not remarkable," she replied. "That's logical. The +dreamer blazes the way--proves the possibilities of his dream--and +the practical man follows it up and makes money out of it. To a +practical man there is nothing more practical than making money." + +"Did I convert you?" he pursued. + +"I was not in need of conversion. I have been a follower of the +new faith--an imperfect and limping follower, it is true--ever +since you first announced it." + +"I believe you are laughing at me." + +"Certainly not! I have been brought up in an environment where +there is no standard higher than the money standard. Not that my +father or husband are dishonest; they are rigidly honest according +to their ideas of honesty. But to say that a man must give actual +service for every dollar he gets or it isn't his--that is a +conception of honesty so far beyond them as to be an absurdity. +But I have wanted to ask you how you are going to enforce this new +idealism." + +"Idealism is not enforced. We aspire to it; we may not attain to +it. Christianity itself is idealism--the idealism of unselfishness. +That ideal has never been attained by any considerable number of +people, and yet it has drawn all humanity on to somewhat higher +levels as surely as the moon draws the tide. Superficial persons in +these days are drawing pictures of the failure of Christianity, +which has failed in part; but they could find a much more depressing +subject by painting a world from which all Christian idealism had +been removed." + +"But surely you have some plan for putting your theories to the +test--some plan which will force those to whom idealism appeals +in vain. We do not trust to a man's idealism to keep him from +stealing; we put him in jail." + +"All that will come in time, but the question for the seeker after +truth is not 'Will it work?' but 'Is it true?' I fancy I can see +the practical men of Moses' time leaning over his shoulder as he +inscribed the Ten Commandments and remarking 'No use of putting +that down, Moses; you can never enforce it.' But Moses put it down +and left the enforcement to natural law and the growing intelligence +of the generations which have followed him. We are too much +disposed to think it possible to evade a law; to violate it, and +escape punishment; but if a law is true, punishment follows +violation as implacably as the stars follow their courses. And if +society has failed to recognize the law that service, and service +only, should be able to command service in return, society must +suffer the penalty. We have only to look about us to see that +society is paying in full for its violations. + +"Yes, I have plans, and I think they would work, but the first +thing is the ideal--the new moral sense--that value must not be +accepted without giving equal value in return. Society, of course, +will have to set up the standards of value. That is a matter of +detail--a matter for the practical men who come in the wake of the +idealist. But of this I am certain--and I hark back to my old +theme--that just as society has found a means of preventing the man +who is physically superior from taking wealth without giving +service in return, so must society find a means to prevent men who +are mentally superior from taking wealth without giving service in +return. The superior person, mark you, will still have an +advantage, in that his superiority will enable him to EARN more; we +shall merely stop him taking what he does not earn. That must +come. I think it will come soon. It is the next step in the +social evolution of the race." + +She had drunk in his argument as one who hangs on every word, and +her wrapt face turned toward his seemed to glow and thrill him in +return with a sense of their spiritual oneness. She did not need +to tell him that Transley never talked to her like this. Transley +loved her, if he loved her at all, for the glory she reflected upon +him; he was proud of her beauty, of her daring, of her physical +charm and self-reliance. The deeper side of her mental life was to +Transley a field unexplored; a field of the very existence of which +he was probably unaware. Grant looked into her eyes, now close and +responsive, and found within their depths something which sent him +to his feet. + +"Zen!" he exclaimed. "The mystery of life is too much for me. +Surely there must be an answer somewhere! Surely the puzzle has a +system to it--a key which may some day be found! Or can it be just +chaos--just blind, driveling, senseless chaos? In our own lives, +why should we be stranded, helpless, wrecked, with the happiness +which might have been ours hung just beyond our reach? Is there no +answer to this?" + +"I suppose we disobeyed the law, back in those old days. We heard +it clearly enough, and we disobeyed. I allowed myself to be guided +by motives which were not the highest; you seemed to lack the +enterprise which would have won you its own reward. And as you +have said, those who violate the law must suffer for it. I have +suffered." + +She drew up her chin; he could see the firm muscles set beneath +the pink bloom of her flesh. . . . He had not thought of Zen +suffering; all his thought of her had been very grateful to his +vanity, but he had not thought of her suffering. He extended his +hands and took hers within them. + +"I have sometimes wondered," he said, "why there is no second +chance; why one cannot wipe the slate clear of everything that has +been and start anew. What a world this might be!" + +"Would it be any better? Or would we go on making our mistakes +over again? That seems to be the only way we learn." + +"But a second chance; the idea seems so fair, so plausible. +Suppose you are shooting on the ranges, for instance; you are +allowed a shot or two to find your nerve, to get your distance, to +settle yourself to the business in hand. But in this business of +life you fire, and if some distraction, some momentary influence or +folly sends your aim wild, the shot is gone and you are left with +all the years that follow to think about it. You can do nothing +but think about it--the most profitless of all occupations." + +"For you there is a second chance," she reminded him. "You must +have thought of that." + +"No--no second chance." + +She drew herself up slightly and away from him. "I have been very +frank with you, Dennison," she said. "Suppose you try being frank +with me?" + +In her eyes was still the fire of Zen of the Y.D., a woman +unconquered and unconquerable. She gave the impression that she +accepted the buffetings of life, but no one forced them upon her. +She had erred; she would suffer. That was fair; she accepted that. +But as Grant gazed on her face, tilted still in some of its old- +time recklessness and defiance, he knew that the day would come +when she would say that her cup was full, and, throwing it to the +winds, would start life over, if there can be such a thing as +starting life over. And something in her manner told him that day +was very, very near. + +"All right," he said, "I will be frank. Fate HAS brought within my +orbit a second chance, or what would have been a second chance had +my heart not been so full of you. She was a girl well worth +thinking about. When an employee introduces herself to you with a +declaration of independence you may know that you have met with +someone out of the ordinary. I am not speaking of these days of +labor scarcity; it takes no great moral quality to be independent +when you have the whip-hand. But in the days before the war, with +two applicants for every position, a girl who valued her freedom of +spirit more than her job--more than even a very good job--was a +girl to think about." + +"And you thought about her?" + +"I did. I was sick of the cringing and fawning of which my wealth +made me the object; I loathed the deference paid me, because I knew +it was paid, not to me, but to my money--I was homesick to hear +someone tell me to go to hell. I wanted to brush up against that +spirit which says it is as good as anybody else--against the +manliness which stands its ground and hits back. I found that +spirit in Phyllis Bruce." + +"Phyllis Bruce--rather a nice name. But are the men and women of +the East so--so servile as you suggest?" + +"No! That is where I was mistaken. Generations of environment had +merely trained them into docility of habit. Underneath they are +red-blooded through and through. The war showed us that. Zen--the +proudest moment of my life--except one--was when a kid in the +office who couldn't come into my room without trembling jumped up +and said 'We WILL win!'--and called me Grant! Think of that! Poor +chap. . . . What was I saying? Oh, yes; Phyllis. I grew to like +her--very much--but I couldn't marry her. You know why." + +Zen was looking into the fire with unseeing eyes. "I am not sure +that I know why," she said at length. "You couldn't marry me. It +was your second chance. You should have taken it." + +"Would that be playing the game fairly--with her?" + +She rested her fingers lightly on the back of his hand, extending +them gently down until they fell between his own. + +"Denny, you big, big boy!" she murmured. "Do you suppose every man +marries his first choice?" + +"It has always seemed to me that a second choice is a makeshift. +It doesn't seem quite square--" + +"No. I fancy some second choices are really first choices. Wisdom +comes with experience, you know." + +"Not always. At any rate I couldn't marry her while my heart was +yours." + +"I suppose not," she answered, and again he noted a touch of +weariness in her voice. "I know something of what divided +affection--if one can even say it is divided--means. Denny, I will +make a confession. I knew you would come back; I always was sure +you would come back. 'Then,' I said to myself, 'I will see this +man Grant as he is, and the reality will clear my brain of all this +idealism which I have woven about him.' Perhaps you know what I +mean. We sometimes meet people who impress us greatly at the time, +but a second meeting, perhaps years later, has a very different +effect. It sweeps all the idealism away, and we wonder what it was +that could have charmed us so. Well--I hoped--I really hoped for +some experience like that with you. If only I could meet you again +and find that, after all, you were just like other men; self- +centred, arrogant, kind, perhaps, but quite superior--if I could +only find THAT to be true then the mirage in which I have lived for +all these years would be swept away and my old philosophy that +after all it doesn't matter much whom one marries so long as he is +respectable and gives her a good living would be vindicated. And +so I have encouraged you to come here; I have been most +unconventional, I know, but I was always that--I have cultivated +your acquaintance, and, Denny, I am SO disappointed!" + +"Disappointed? Then the mirage HAS cleared away?" + +"On the contrary, it grows more distorted every day. I see you +towering above all your fellow humans; reaching up into a heaven so +far above them that they don't even know of its existence. I see +you as really The Man-On-the-Hill, with a vision which lays all +this selfish, commonplace world at your feet. The idealism which I +thought must fade away is justified--heightened--by the reality." + +She had turned her face to him, and Grant, little as he understood +the ways of women, knew that she had made her great confession. +For a moment he held himself in check. . . . then from somewhere in +his subconsciousness came ringing the phrase, "Every man worth his +salt. . . . takes what he wants." That was Transley's morality; +Transley, the Usurper, who had bullied himself into possession of +this heart which he had never won and could never hold; Transley, +the fool, frittering his days and nights with money! He seized her +in his arms, crushing down her weak resistance; he drew her to him +until, as in that day by a foothill river somewhere in the sunny +past, her lips met his and returned their caress. He cared now for +nothing--nothing in the whole world but this quivering womanhood +within his arms. . . . + +"You must go," she whispered at length. "It is late, and Frank's +habits are somewhat erratic." + +He held her at arm's length, his hands upon her shoulders. "Do you +suppose that fear--of anything--can make me surrender you now?" + +"Not fear, perhaps--I know it could not be fear--but good sense may +do it. It was not fear that made me send you home early from your +previous calls. It was discretion." + +"Oh!" he said, a new light dawning, and he marvelled again at her +consummate artistry. + +"But I must tell you," she resumed, "Frank leaves on a business +trip to-morrow night. He will be gone for some time, and I shall +motor into town to see him off. I am wondering about Wilson," she +hurried on, as though not daring to weigh her words; "Sarah will be +away--I am letting her have a little holiday--and I can't take +Wilson into town with me because it will be so late." Then, with a +burst of confession she spoke more deliberately. "That isn't +exactly the reason, Dennison; Frank doesn't know I have let Sarah +go, and I--I can't explain." + +Her face shone pink and warm in the glow of the firelight, and as +the significance of her words sank in upon him Grant marvelled at +that wizardry of the gods which could bring such homage to the foot +of man. A tenderness such as he had never known suffused him; her +very presence was holy. + +"Bring the boy over and let him spend the night with me. We are +great chums and we shall get along splendidly." + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +Grant spent his Sunday forenoon in an exhaustive house-cleaning +campaign. Bachelor life on the farm is not conducive to domestic +delicacy, and although Grant had never abandoned the fundamentals +he had allowed his interpretation of essential cleanliness to +become somewhat liberal. The result was that the day of rest +usually confronted him with a considerable array of unwashed pots +and pans and other culinary utensils. To-day, while the tawny +autumn hills seemed to fairly heave and sigh with contentment under +a splendor of opalescent sunshine, he scoured the contents of his +kitchen until they shone; washed the floor; shook the rugs from the +living-room and swept the corners, even behind the gramophone; +cleared the ashes from the hearth and generally set his house in +order, for was not she to call upon him that evening on her way to +town, and was not little Wilson--he of the high adventures with +teddy-bear and knife and pig--to spend the night with him? + +When he was able to view his handiwork with a feeling that even +feminine eyes would find nothing to offend, Grant did an unwonted +thing. He unlocked the whim-room and opened the windows that the +fresh air might play through the silent chamber. To the west the +mountains looked down in sombre placidity as they had looked down +every bright autumn morning since the dawn of time, their shoulders +bathed in purple mist and their snow-crowned summits shining in the +sun. For a long time Grant stood drinking in the scene; the +fertile valley lying with its square farms like a checker-board of +the gods, with its round little lakes beating back the white +sunshine like coins from the currency of the Creator; the ruddy +copper-colored patches of ripe wheat, and drowsy herds motionless +upon the receding hills; the blue-green ribbon of river with its +yellow fringes of cottonwood and bluffs of forbidding spruce, and +behind and over all the silent, majestic mountains. It was a sight +to make the soul of man rise up and say, "I know I stand on the +heights of the Eternal!" Then as his eyes followed the course of +the river Grant picked out a column of thin blue smoke, and knew +that Zen was cooking her Sunday dinner. + +The thought turned him to his dusting of the whim-room, and +afterwards to his own kitchen. When he had lunched and dressed he +took a stroll over the hills, thinking a great deal, but finding no +answer. On his return he descried the familiar figure of Linder in +a semi-recumbent position on the porch, and Linder's well-worn car +in the yard. + +"How goes it, Linder?" he said, cheerily, as he came up. "Is the +Big Idea going to fructify?" + +"The Big Idea seems to be all right. You planned it well." + +"Thanks. But is it going to be self-supporting--I mean in the +matter of motive power. Would it run if you and I and Murdoch were +wiped out?" + +"Everything must have a head." + +"Democracy must find its own head--must grow it out of the materials +supplied. If it doesn't do that it's a failure, and the Big Idea +will end in being the Big Fizzle. That's why I'm leaving it so +severely alone--I want to see which way it's headed." + +"I could suggest another reason," said Linder, pointedly. + +"Another reason for what?" + +"For your leaving it so severely alone." + +"What are you driving at?" demanded Grant, somewhat petulantly. +"You are in a taciturn mood to-day, Linder." + +"Perhaps I am, Grant, and if so it comes from wondering how a man +with as much brains as you have can be such a damned fool upon +occasion." + +"Drop the riddles, Linder. Let me have it in the face." + +"It's just like this, Grant, old boy," said Linder, getting up and +putting his hand on his friend's shoulder, "I feel that I still +have an interest in the chap who saved all of me except what this +empty sleeve stands for, and it's that interest which makes me +speak about something which you may say is none of my business. +I was out here Monday night to see you, and you were not at home. +I came out again Wednesday, and you were not at home. I came last +night and you were not at home, and had not come back at midnight. +Your horses were in the barn; you were not far away." + +"Why didn't you telephone me?" + +"If I hadn't cared more for you than I do for my job and the Big +Idea thrown in I could have settled it that way. But, Grant, I +do." + +"I believe you. But why this sudden worry over me? I was merely +spending the evening at a neighbor's." + +"Yes--at Transley's. Transley was in town, and Mrs. Transley is-- +not responsible--where you are concerned." + +"Linder!" + +"I saw it all that night at dinner there. Some things are plain to +everyone--except those most involved. Now it's not my job to say +to you what's right and wrong, but the way it looks to me is this: +what's the use of setting up a new code of morality about money +which concerns, after all, only some of us, if you're going to +knock down those things which concern all of us?" + +Grant regarded his foreman for some time without answering. "I +appreciate your frankness, Linder," he said at length. "Your +friendship, which I can never question, gives you that privilege. +Man to man, I'm going to be equally frank with you. To begin with, +I suppose you will admit that Y.D.'s daughter is a strong +character, a woman quite capable of directing her own affairs?" + +"The stronger the engine the bigger the smash if there's a wreck." + +"It's not a case of wrecking; it's a case of trying to save +something out of the wreck. Convention, Linder, is a torture- +monger; it binds men and women to the stake of propriety and bids +them smile while it snuffs out all the soul that's in them. We +have pitted ourselves against convention in economic affairs; shall +we not--" + +"No! It was pure unselfishness which led you into the Big Idea. +That isn't what's leading you now." + +"Well, let me put it another way. Transley is a clever man of +affairs. He knows how to accomplish his ends. He applied the +methods--somewhat modified for the occasion--of a landshark in +winning his wife. He makes a great appearance of unselfishness, +but in reality he is selfish to the core. He lavishes money on her +to satisfy his own vanity, but as for her finer nature, the real +Zen, her soul if you like--he doesn't even know she has one. He +obtained possession by false pretences. Which is the more moral +thing--to leave him in possession, or to throw him out? Didn't you +yourself hear him say that men who are worth their salt take what +they want?" + +"Since when did you let him set YOUR standards?" + +"That's hardly fair." + +"I think it is. I think, too, that you are arguing against your +own convictions. Well, I've had my say. I deliberately came out +to-day without Murdoch so that I might have it. You would be quite +justified in firing me for what I've done. But now I'm through, +and no matter what may happen, remember, Linder will never have +suspected anything." + +"That's like you, old chap. We'll drop it at that, but I must +explain that Zen is going to town to-night to meet Transley, and is +leaving the boy with me. It is an event in my young life, and I +have house-cleaned for it appropriately. Come inside and admire my +handiwork." + +Linder admired as he was directed, and then the two men fell into a +discussion of business matters. Eventually Grant cooked supper, +and just as they had finished Mrs. Transley drove up in her motor. + +"Here we are!" she cried, cheerily. "Glad to see you, Mr. Linder. +Wilson has his teddy-bear and his knife and his pyjamas, and is a +little put out, I think, that I wouldn't let him bring the pig." + +"I shall try and make up the deficiency," said Grant, smiling +broadly, as the boy climbed to his shoulder. "Won't you come in? +Linder, among his other accomplishments learned in France, is an +excellent chaperon." + +"Thank you, no; I must get along. I shall call early in the +morning, so that you will not be delayed on Wilson's account." + +"No need of that; he can ride to the field with me on Prince. He +is a great help with the plowing." + +"I'm sure." She stepped up to Grant and drew the boy's face down +to hers. "Good-bye, dear; be a good boy," she whispered, and +Wilson waved kisses to her as the motor sped down the road. + +Linder took his departure soon after, and Grant was surprised to +find himself almost embarrassed in the presence of his little +guest. The embarrassment, however, was all on his side. Wilson +was greatly interested in the strange things in the house, and +investigated them with the romantic thoroughness of his years. +Grant placed a collection of war trophies that had no more fight in +them at the child's disposal, and he played about until it was time +to go to bed. + +Where to start on the bedtime preparations was a puzzle, but Wilson +himself came to Grant's aid with explicit instructions about +buttons and pins. Grant fervently hoped the boy would be able to +reverse the process in the morning, otherwise-- + +Suddenly, with a little dexterous movement, the child divested +himself of all his clothing, and rushed into a far corner. + +"You have to catch me now," he shouted in high glee. "One, two--" + +Evidently it was a game, and Grant entered into the spirit of it, +finally running Wilson to earth on the farthest corner of the +kitchen table. To adjust the pyjamas was, as Grant confessed, a +bigger job than harnessing a four-horse team, but at length it was +completed. + +"You must hear my prayer, Uncle Man-on-the-Hill," said the boy. +"You have to sit down in a chair." + +Grant sat down and with a strange mixture of emotions drew the +little chap between his knees as he listened to the long-forgotten +prattle. He felt his fingers running through Wilson's hair as +other fingers, now long, long turned to dust, had once run through +his. . . . + +At the third line the boy stopped. "You have to tell me now," he +prompted. + +"But I can't, Willie; I have forgotten." + +"Huh, you don't know much," the child commented, and glibly quoted +the remaining lines. "And God bless Daddy and Mamma and teddy-bear +and Uncle Man-on-the-Hill and the pig. Amen," he concluded, +accompanying the last word with a jump which landed him fairly in +Grant's lap. His little arms went up about his friend's neck, and +his little soft cheek rested against a tanned and weather-beaten +one. Slowly Grant's arms closed about the warm, lithe body and +pressed it to his in a new passion, strange and holy. Then he led +him to the whim-room, turned down the white sheets in which no form +had ever lain and placed the boy between them, snuggled his teddy +down by his side and set his knife properly in view upon the dresser. +And then he leaned down again and kissed the little face, and +whispered, "Good night, little boy; God keep you safe to-night, and +always." And suddenly Grant realized that he had been praying. . . . + +He withdrew softly, and only partly closed the door; then he chose +a seat where he could see the little figure lying peacefully on the +white bed. The last shafts of the setting sun were falling in +amber wedges across the room. He picked up a book, thinking to +read, but he could not keep his attention on the page; he found his +mind wandering back into the long-forgotten chambers of its +beginning, conjuring up from the faint recollections of infancy +visions of the mother he had hardly known. . . . After a while he +tip-toed to the whim-room door and found that Wilson, with his arms +firmly clasped about his teddy-bear, was deep in the sleep of +childhood. + +"The dear little chap," he murmured. "I must watch by him to-night. +It would be unspeakable if anything should happen him while he +is under my care." + +He felt a sense of warmth, almost a smothering sensation, and +raised his hand to his forehead. It came down covered with +perspiration. + +"It's amazingly close," he said, and walked to one of the French +windows opening to the west. The sun had gone down, and a brooding +darkness lay over all the valley, but far up in the sky he could +trace the outline of a cloud. Above, the stars shone with an +unwonted brightness, but below all was a bank of blue-black +darkness. The air was intensely still; in the silence he could +hear the wash of the river. Grant reflected that never before had +he heard the wash of the river at that distance. + +"Looks like a storm," he commented, casually, and suddenly felt +something tighten about his heart. The storms of the foothill +country, which occasionally sweep out of the mountains and down the +valleys on the shortest notice, had no terror for him; he had sat +on horseback under an oilskin slicker through the worst of them; +but to-night! Even as he watched, the distant glare of lightning +threw the heaving proportions of the thundercloud into sharp +relief. + +He turned to his chair, but found himself pacing the living-room +with an altogether inexplicable nervousness. He had held the line +many a bad night at the Front while Death spat out of the darkness +on every hand; he had smoked in the faces of his men to cover his +own fear and to shame them out of theirs; he had run the whole +gamut of the emotion of the trenches, but tonight something more +awesome than any engine of man was gathering its forces in the deep +valleys. He shook himself to throw off the morbidness that was +settling upon him; he laughed, and the echo came back haunting from +the silent corners of the house. Then he lit a lamp and set it, +burning low, in the whim-room, and noted that the boy slept on, all +unconcerned. + +"Damn Linder, anyway!" he exclaimed presently. "I believe he shook +me up more than I realized. He charged me with insincerity; me, +who have always made sincerity my special virtue. . . . Well, +there may be something in it." + +A faint, indistinct growling, as of the grinding of mighty rocks, +came down from the distances. + +"The storm will be nothing," he assured himself. "A gust of wind; +a spatter of rain; perhaps a dash of hail; then, of a sudden, a sky +so calm and peaceful one would wonder how it ever could have been +disturbed." Even as he spoke the house shivered in every timber as +the gale struck it and went whining by. + +He rushed to the whim-room, but found the boy still sleeping +soundly. "I must stay up," he reasoned with himself; "I must be on +hand in case he should be frightened." + +Suddenly it occurred to Grant that, quite apart from his love for +Wilson, if anything should happen the child in his house a very +difficult situation would be created. Transley would demand +explanations--explanations which would be hard to make. Why was +Wilson there at all? Why was he not at home with Sarah? Sarah +away from home! Why had Zen kept that a secret? . . . How long +had this thing been going on, anyway? Grant feared neither +Transley nor any other man, and yet there was something akin to +fear in his heart as he thought of these possibilities. He would +be held accountable--doubly accountable--if anything happened the +child. Even though it were something quite beyond his control; +lightning, for example-- + +The gale subsided as quickly as it had come, and the sudden silence +which followed was even more awesome. It lasted only for a moment; +a flash of lightning lit up every corner of the house, bursting +like white fire from every wall and ceiling. Grant rushed to the +whim-room and was standing over the child when the crash of thunder +came upon them. The boy stirred gently, smiled, and settled back +to his sleep. + +Grant drew the blinds in the whim-room, and went out to draw them +in the living-room, but the sight across the valley was of a +majesty so terrific that it held him fascinated. The play of the +lightning was incessant, and with every flash the little lakes shot +back their white reflection, and distant farm window-panes seemed +heliographing to each other through the night. As yet there was no +rain, but a dense wall of cloud pressed down from the west, and the +farther hills were hidden even in the brightest flashes. + +Turning from the windows, Grant left the blinds open. "Only +cowardice would close them," he muttered to himself, "and surely, +in addition to the other qualities Linder has attributed to me, I +am not a coward. If it were not for Willie I could stand and enjoy +it." + +Presently rain began to fall; a few scattered drops at first, then +thicker, harder, until the roof and windows rattled and shook with +their force. The wind, which had gone down so suddenly, sprang up +again, buffeting the house as it rushed by with the storm. Grant +stood in the whim-room, in the dim light of the lamp turned low, +and watched the steady breathing of his little guest with as much +anxiety as if some dread disease threatened him. For the first +time in his life there came into Grant's consciousness some sense +of the price which parents pay in the rearing of little children. +He thought of all the hours of sickness, of all the childish hurts +and dangers, and suddenly he found himself thinking of his father +with a tenderness which was strange and new to him. Doubtless +under even that stern veneer of business interest had beat a heart +which, many a time, had tightened in the grip of fear for young +Dennison. + +As the night wore on the storm, instead of spending itself quickly +as Grant had expected, continued unabated, but his nervous tension +gradually relaxed, and when at length Wilson was awakened by an +exceptionally loud clap of thunder he took the boy in his arms and +soothed his little fears as a mother might have done. They sat for +a long while in a big chair in the living-room, and exchanged such +confidences as a man may with a child of five. After the lad had +dropped back into sleep Grant still sat with him in his arms, +thinking. . . . + +And what he thought was this: He was a long while framing the +exact thought; he tried to beat it back in a dozen ways, but it +circled around him, gradually closed in upon him and forced its +acceptance. "Linder called me a fool, and he was right. He might +have called me a coward, and again he would have been right. +Linder was right." + +Some way it seemed easy to reach that conclusion while this little +sleeping form lay in his arms. Perhaps it had quickened into life +that ennobling spirit of parenthood which is all sacrifice and love +and self-renunciation. The ends which seemed so all-desirable a +few hours ago now seemed sordid and mean and unimportant. Reaching +out for some means of self-justification Grant turned to the Big +Idea; that was his; that was big and generous and noble. But after +all, was it his? The idea had come in upon him from some outside +source--as perhaps all ideas do; struck him like a bullet; swept +him along. He was merely the agency employed in putting it into +effect. It had cost him nothing. He was doing that for society. +Now was the time to do something that would cost; to lay his hand +upon the prize and then relinquish it--for the sake of Wilson +Transley! + +"And by God I'll do it!" he exclaimed, springing to his feet. He +carried the child back to his bed, and then turned again to watch +the storm through the windows. It seemed to be subsiding; the +lightning, although still almost continuous, was not so near. The +air was cooling off and the rain was falling more steadily, without +the gusts and splatters which marked the storm in its early stages. +And as he looked out over the black valley, lighted again and again +by the glare of heaven's artillery, Grant became conscious of a +deep, mysterious sense of peace. It was as though his soul, like +the elements about him, caught in a paroxysm of elemental passion, +had been swept clean and pure in the fire of its own upheaval. + +"What little incidents turn our lives!" he thought. "That boy; in +some strange way he has been the means of bringing me to see things +as they are--which not even Linder could do. The mind has to be +fertilized for the thought, or it can't think it. He brought the +necessary influence to bear. It was like the night at Murdoch's +house, the night when the Big Idea was born. Surely I owe that to +Murdoch, and his wife, and Phyllis Bruce." + +The name of Phyllis Bruce came to him with almost a shock. He had +been so occupied with his farm and with Zen that he had thought but +little of her of late. As he turned the matter over in his mind +now he felt that he had used Phyllis rather shabbily. He recalled +having told Murdoch to send for her, but that was purely a business +transaction. Yet he felt that he had never entirely forgotten her, +and he was surprised to find how tenderly the memory of her welled +up within him. Zen's vision had been clearer than his; she had +recognized in Phyllis Bruce a party to his life's drama. "The +second choice may be really the first," she had said. + +Grant lit a cigar and sat down to smoke and think. The matter of +Phyllis needed prompt settlement. It afforded a means to burn his +bridges behind him, and Grant felt that it would be just as well to +cut off all possibility of retreat. Fortunately the situation was +one that could be explained--to Phyllis. He had come out West +again to be sure of himself; he was sure now; would she be his +wife? He had never thought that line out to a conclusion before, +but now it proved a subject very delightful to contemplate. + +He had told himself, back in those days in the East, that it would +not be fair to marry Phyllis Bruce while his heart was another's. +He had believed that then; now he knew the real reason was that he +had allowed himself to hope, against all reason, that Zen Transley +might yet be his. He had harbored an unworthy desire, and called +it a virtue. Well--the die was cast. He had definitely given Zen +up. He would tell Phyllis everything. . . . That is, everything +she needed to know. + +It would be best to settle it at once--the sooner the better. He +went to his desk and took out a telegraph blank. He addressed it +to Phyllis, pondered a minute in a great hush in the storm, and +wrote, + +"I am sure now. May I come? Dennison." + +This done he turned to the telephone, hurrying as one who fears for +the duration of his good resolutions. It was a chance if the line +was not out of business, but he lifted the receiver and listened to +the thump of his heart as he waited. + +Presently came a voice as calm and still as though it spoke from +another world, "Number?" + +He gave the number of Linder's rooms in town; it was likely Linder +had remained in town, but it was a question whether the telephone +bell would waken him. He had recollections of Linder as a sound +sleeper. But even as this possibility entered his mind he heard +Linder's phlegmatic voice in his ear. + +"Oh, Linder! I'm so glad I got you. Rush this message to Phyllis +Bruce. . . . Linder? . . . Linder!" + +There was no answer. Nothing but a hollow, empty sound on the +wire, as though it led merely into the universe in general. He +tried to call the operator, but without success. The wire was +down. + +He turned from it with a sense of acute impatience. Was this an +omen of obstacles to bar him now from Phyllis Bruce? He had a wild +thought of saddling a horse and riding to town, but at that moment +the storm came down afresh. Besides, there was the boy. + +Suddenly came a quick knock at the door; the handle turned, and a +drenched, hatless figure, with disheveled, wet hair, and white, +drawn face burst in upon him. It was Zen Transley. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +"Zen!" + +"How is he--how is Wilson?" she demanded, breathlessly. + +"Sound as a bell," he answered, alarmed by her manner. The self- +assured Zen was far from self-assurance now. "Come, see, he is +asleep." + +He led her into the whim-room and turned up the lamp. The lad was +sleeping soundly, his teddy-bear clasped in his arms, his little +pink and white face serene under the magic skies of slumberland. +Grant expected that Zen would throw herself upon the child in her +agitation, but she did not. She drew her fingers gently across his +brow, then, turning to Grant, + +"Rather an unceremonious way to break into your house," she said, +with a little laugh. "I hope you will pardon me. . . . I was +uneasy about Wilson." + +"But tell me--how--where did you come from?" + +"From town. Let me stand in your kitchen, or somewhere." + +"You're wet through. I can't offer you much change." + +"Not as wet as when you first met me, Dennison," she said, with a +smile. "I have a good waterproof, but my hat blew off. It's +somewhere on the road. I couldn't see through the windshield, so I +put my head out, and away it went." + +"The hat?" + +Then both laughed, and an atmosphere that had been tense began to +settle back to normal. Grant led her out to the living-room, +removed her coat, and started a fire. + +"So you drove out over those roads?" he said, when the smoke began +to curl up around the logs. "You had your courage." + +"It wasn't courage, Dennison; it was terror. Fear sometimes makes +one wonderfully brave. After I saw Frank off I went to the hotel. +I had a room on the west side, and instead of going to bed I sat by +the window looking out at the storm and at the wet streets. I +could see the flashes of lightning striking down as though they +were aimed at definite objects, and I began to think of Wilson, and +of you. You see, it was the first night I had ever spent away from +him, and I began to think. . . . + +"After a while I could bear it no longer, and I rushed down and out +to the garage. There was just one young man on night duty, and I'm +sure he thought me crazy. When he couldn't dissuade me he wanted +to send a driver with me. You know I couldn't have that." + +She was looking squarely at him, her face strangely calm and +emotionless. Grant nodded that he followed her reasoning. + +"So here I am," she continued. "No doubt you think me silly, too. +You are not a mother." + +"I think I understand," he answered, tenderly. "I think I do." + +They sat in silence for some time, and presently they became aware +of a grey light displacing the yellow glow from the lamp and the +ruddy reflections of the fire. "It is morning," said Grant. "I +believe the storm has cleared." + +He stood beside her chair and took her hand in his. "Let us watch +the dawn break on the mountains," he said, and together they moved +to the windows that overlooked the valley and the grim ranges +beyond. Already shafts of crimson light were firing the scattered +drift of clouds far overhead. . . . + +"Dennison," she said at length, turning her face to his, "I hope +you will understand, but--I have thought it all over. I have not +hidden my heart from you. For the boy's sake, and for your sake, +and for the sake of 'a scrap of paper'--that was what the war was +over, wasn't it?--" + +"I know," he whispered. "I know." + +"Then you have been thinking, too? . . . I am so glad!" In the +growing light he could see the moisture in her bright eyes glisten, +and it seemed to him this wild, daring daughter of the hills had +never been lovelier than in this moment of confession and of high +resolve. + +"I am so glad," she repeated, "for your sake--and for my own. Now, +again, you are really the Man-on-the-Hill. We have been in the +valley of late. You can go ahead now with your high plans, with +your Big Idea. You will marry Miss Bruce, and forget." + +"I shall remember with chastened memory, but I shall never forget," +he said at length. "I shall never forget Zen of the Y.D. And you-- +what will you do?" + +"I have the boy. I did not realize how much I had until to-night. +Suddenly it came upon me that he was everything. You won't +understand, Dennison, but as we grow older our hearts wrap up +around our children with a love quite different from that which +expresses itself in marriage. This love gives--gives--gives, +lavishly, unselfishly, asking nothing in return." + +"I think I understand," he said again. "I think I do." + +They turned their eyes to the mountains, and as they looked the +first shafts of sunlight fell on the white peaks and set them +dazzling like mighty diamond-points against the blue bosom of the +West. Slowly the flood of light poured down their mighty sides and +melted the mauve shadows of the valley. Suddenly a ray of the +morning splendor shot through the little window in the eastern wall +of the living-room and fell fairly upon the woman's head, crowning +her like a halo of the Madonna. + +"It is morning on the mountains--and on you!" Grant exclaimed. +"Zen, you are very, very beautiful." He raised her hand and +pressed her fingers to his lips. + +As they stood watching the sunlight pour into the valley a sharp +knock sounded on the door. "Come," said Dennison, and the next +moment it swung open and Phyllis Bruce entered, followed immediately +by Linder. A question leapt into her eyes at the remarkable +situation which greeted them, and she paused in embarrassment. + +"Phyllis!" Grant exclaimed. "You here!" + +"It would seem that I was not expected." + +"It is all very simple," Grant explained, with a laugh. "Little +Willie Transley was my guest overnight. On account of the storm +his mother became alarmed, and drove out from the city early this +morning for him. Mrs. Transley, let me introduce Miss Bruce-- +Phyllis Bruce, of whom I have told you." + +Zen's cordial handshake did more to reassure Phyllis than any +amount of explanations, and Linder's timely observation that he +knew Wilson was there and was wondering about him himself had +valuable corroborative effect. + +"But now--YOUR explanations?" said Grant. "How comes it, Linder?" + +"Simple enough, from our side. When I got back to town last night +I found Murdoch highly excited over a telegram from Miss Bruce that +she would arrive on the 3 a.m. train. He was determined to wait +up, but when the storm came on I persuaded him to go home, as I was +sure I could identify her. So I was lounging in my room waiting +for three o'clock when I got your telephone call. All I could +catch was the fact that you were mighty glad to get me, and had +some urgent message for Miss Bruce. Then the connection broke." + +"I see. And you, of course, assured Miss Bruce that I was being +murdered, or meeting some such happy and effective ending, out here +in the wilderness." + +"Not exactly that, but I reported what I could, and Miss Bruce +insisted upon coming out at once. The roads were dreadful, but we +had daylight. Also, we have a trophy." + +Linder went out and returned in a moment with a sadly bedraggled +hat. + +"My poor hat!" Zen exclaimed. "I lost it on the way." + +"It is the best kind of evidence that you had but recently come +over the road," said Linder, significantly. + +"I think no more evidence need be called," said Phyllis. "May I +lay off my things?" + +"Certainly--certainly," Grant apologized. "But I must introduce +one more exhibit." He handed her the telegram he had written +during the night. "That is the message I wanted Linder to rush to +you," he said, and as she read it he saw the color deepen in her +cheeks. + +"I'm going to get breakfast, Mr. Grant," Zen announced with a +sudden burst of energy. "Everybody keep out of the kitchen." + +"Guess I'll feed up for you, this morning, old chap," said Linder, +beating a retreat to the stables. + +And when Phyllis had laid aside her coat and hat and had +straightened her hair a little in the glass above the mantelpiece +she walked straight to Grant and put both her hands in his. "Let +me see this boy, Willie Transley," she said. + +Grant led her into the whim-room, where the boy still slept +soundly, and drew aside the blinds that the morning light might +fall about him. Phyllis bent over the child. "Isn't he dear?" she +said, and stooped and kissed his lips. + +Then she stood up and looked for what seemed to Grant a very long +time at the panorama of grandeur that stretched away to the +westward. + +"When may I expect an answer, Phyllis?" he said at length. "You +know why my question has been so long delayed. I shall not attempt +to excuse myself. I have been very, very foolish. But to-day I am +very, very wise. May I also be very, very happy?" + +He had taken her hands in his, and as she did not resist he drew +her gently to him. + +"Little Willie christened me The Man-on-the-Hill," he whispered. +"I have tried to live on the hill, but I need you to keep me from +falling off." + +"What about your settlement plan? I thought you wanted me for +that." + +"We will give our lives to that, together, Phyllis, to that, and to +making this house a home. If God should give us--" + +He did not finish the thought, for the form of Phyllis Bruce +trembled against his, and her lips had murmured "Yes." . . . + +"Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant! The telephone is ringing," called the +clear voice of Zen Transley. "Shall I take the message?" + +"Please do," said Dennison, inwardly abjuring the efficiency of the +lineman who had already made repairs. + +"It's Mr. Murdoch, and he's highly excited, and he says have you +Phyllis Bruce here." + +"Tell him I have, and I'm going to keep her." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Dennison Grant, by Robert Stead. + diff --git a/old/dnsng10.zip b/old/dnsng10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d929c4b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/dnsng10.zip |