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diff --git a/3264-h/3264-h.htm b/3264-h/3264-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f499ad --- /dev/null +++ b/3264-h/3264-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11153 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Dennison Grant, by Robert Stead + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +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; 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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