"As I've been busy since four this morning, I don't mean to do anything more," said George, "I suppose you don't smoke?"
"No," Hardie answered. "It's a concession1 I can make without much effort to our stricter brethren. I'm inclined to believe they consider smoking almost as bad as drink. You agree with them about the latter?"
"We try to be consistent," Edgar told him. "You see, I couldn't very well indulge in an occasional drink when I've undertaken to make those Sage2 Butte fellows abstainers. Anyhow, though you're by no means liberal in your view, you're practical people. As soon as I landed at Montreal, a pleasant young man, wearing a silver monogram3 came up to me, and offered me introductions to people who might find me a job. Though I didn't want one, I was grateful; and when I told him I wasn't one of his flock, he said it didn't matter. That kind of thing makes a good impression."
"How are you getting on at the settlement?"
George interposed.
Hardie sat silent for a few moments, and George saw that his eyes were anxious and his face looked worn.
"Badly," he said. "I feel I can talk to you freely, and that's really why I came, though I had another call to make."
"You're having trouble?"
"Plenty of it. I've had another visit from the police, though that's not a very important matter; and Mrs. Nelson's action has raised a storm of indignation. It would be useless to move any further against the Sachem. Even this is not the worst. Our people are split up by disagreements; I've been taken to task; my staunchest supporters are falling away."
"They'll rally," said George. "Leave those who haven't the courage to do so alone; you're better rid of them. I suppose it's apt to make a difference in your finances."
The clergyman colored.
"That's true, though it's hard to own. It subjects one to a strong temptation. After all, we're expected to keep our churches full—it's necessary."
"The road to success," Edgar remarked, "is comparatively easy. Always proclaim the popular view, but be a little more emphatic4 and go a little farther than the rest. Then they'll think you a genius and make haste to follow your lead."
Hardie looked at him quietly.
"There's another way, Mr. West, and the gate of it is narrow. I think it seldom leads to worldly fame." He paused and sighed. "It needs courage to enter, and one often shrinks."
"Well," said Edgar, "I'll confess that I find the popular idea, whatever it may happen to be, irritating; I like to annoy the people who hold it by pointing out their foolishness, which is partly why I'm now farming in western Canada. George, of course, is more altruistic5; though I don't think he ever analyzes6 his feelings. As soon as he sees anybody in trouble and getting beaten, he begins to strip. I've a suspicion that he enjoys a fight!"
"If you would stop talking rot, we'd get on better," George said curtly7, and then turned to his visitor. "I gather that you're afraid of wrecking8 your church. It's an awkward situation, but I suppose you have made up your mind?"
"Yes; I must go on, if I go alone."
The man, as the others recognized, had no intention of being dramatic, but his quiet announcement had its effect, and there was silence for a moment or two. Then Edgar, who was impatient of any display of strong feeling, made an abrupt9 movement.
"After all," he said cheerfully, "you'll have Mrs. Nelson beside you, and I'm inclined to think she would enliven any solitude10."
Hardie smiled, and the lad continued:
"Now we had, perhaps, better be practical and consider how to get over the difficulties."
He grew less discursive11 when they fell in with his suggestion. George possessed12 sound sense and some power of leading, and for a while they were busy elaborating a plan of campaign, in which his advice was largely deferred13 to. Then there was an interruption, for Grierson, his hired man, came in.
"I was hauling hay from the big sloo when I saw the Hereford bull," he said. "He was by himself and bleeding from the shoulder. Thought I'd better bring him home, though he walked very lame14."
"Ah!" exclaimed George sharply. "I'll come and look at him."
The others followed and on reaching the wire-fenced corral they found the animal lying down, with its forequarter stained with blood. George sent for some water, and he soon found the wound, which was very small and round.
"It's a curious mark," Hardie commented.
"Yes," said George; "it's a bullet hole."
The surprise of the others was obvious.
"I think it's a hint," George explained. "We'll try to get him on his feet."
They succeeded, and when the beast had been led into a stall, George turned to Hardie.
"As you said you wouldn't stay the night, would you mind starting for the settlement now? The livery stable fellow is said to be clever at veterinary work; you might send him out, and mail a note I'll give you to the police."
Hardie professed15 his willingness to be of service, and on getting into his buggy said, with some hesitation16:
"I'm afraid you're right in your suspicions, and I'm particularly sorry. In a way, I'm responsible for this."
George smiled, rather grimly.
"One can't go into a fight without getting hurt; and we haven't come to the end of it yet. This affair won't cost you my support."
The clergyman's eyes sparkled as he held out his hand.
"I never imagined it—you have my sympathy, Mr. Lansing. It would give me the greatest pleasure to see the cowardly brute17 who fired that shot brought to justice."
He drove away, and George went moodily18 back to the house with Edgar.
"That's a man who has had to choose between his duty and his interest," George said; "but just now we have other things to think about. It's a pity I can't get the bullet out until help arrives."
The livery man turned up on the following day and succeeded in extracting it; and Flett made his appearance the morning after. He examined the wounded animal.
"It may have been done by accident; but, if so, it's curious the beast should have been hit close to a place where it would have killed him," he remarked.
"What's your private opinion?" George asked.
The constable19 smiled.
"As we haven't gone very far yet, I'll reserve it." He took up the bullet. "Winchester or Marlin; usual caliber20; nothing to be made of that. Now let's go and take a look at the place where the shot was fired."
They traced back the path of the wounded beast from the spot where Grierson had found it, by the red splashes that here and there stained the short grass of the unfenced prairie. At last they stopped where the ground was broken by a few low sandy ridges21 sprinkled with small birches and poplars, and Flett pointed22 to the mark of hoofs23 in a strip of almost bare, light soil.
"This is where he was hit," he said. "You can see how he started off, going as hard as he could. Next, we've got to find the spot the man fired from."
It proved difficult. The dry grass revealed nothing, and they vainly searched several of the neighboring hillocks, where it grew less thickly. Scorching24 sunshine beat down on them and a strong breeze blew the sand about. At length Flett pointed to a few half-obliterated footprints on the bare summit of a small rise.
"The fellow stopped here with his feet well apart. He'd stand like that while he put up his gun. Sit down and smoke while I copy these marks."
He proceeded to do so carefully, having brought some paper from the homestead.
"Have you any reason for thinking it was a standing25 shot he took?"
George asked.
"I haven't; I wish I had. Quite a lot depends upon his position."
George nodded.
"So it struck me. We'll look round for some more conclusive26 signs when you have finished."
Before this happened. Flora27 Grant rode up.
"I was going back from Forster's when I noticed you moving about the hills," she explained. "I made this round to find out what you were doing."
George told her, and her sympathy was obvious.
"I'm very sorry; but my father warned you," she said. "I'm afraid you're finding this an expensive campaign."
"I can put up with it, so long as I have my friends' support."
"I think you can count on that," she smiled. "But what is Flett's theory?"
"If he has one, he's clever at hiding it," Edgar broke in; "but I'm doubtful. In my opinion, he knows the value of the professional air of mystery."
"When I see any use in it, I can talk," retorted Flett. "What's your notion, Mr. Lansing? You don't agree that the fellow shot your beast from here?"
"No," answered George. "Of course, there are only two explanations of the thing, and the first is that it was an accident. In that case, the fellow must have been out after antelope28 or cranes."
"There's an objection: it's close season; though I wouldn't count too much on that. You farmers aren't particular when there's nobody around. Now, it's possible that a man who'd been creeping up on an antelope would work in behind this rise and take a quick shot, standing, when he reached the top of it. If so, I guess he'd have his eyes only on what he was firing at. Suppose he missed, and your beast happened to be in line with him?"
Flora smiled.
"It's not convincing, Mr. Flett. Seen from here, the bull would be in the open, conspicuous29 against white grass and sand."
"I didn't say the thing was likely. Won't you go on, Mr. Lansing?"
"The other explanation is that the fellow meant to kill or mark the bull; the place where it was hit points to the former. If that was his intention, he'd lie down or kneel to get a steadier aim. We had better look for the spot."
They spent some time before Flett thought he had found it.
"Somebody lay down here, and the bull would be up against a background of poplar scrub," he said. "I'll measure off the distance and make a plan."
He counted his paces, and had set to work with his notebook, when Flora interrupted.
"Wouldn't a sketch30 be better? Give me a sheet of paper; and has anybody another pencil?"
George gave her one, and after walking up and down and standing for a few moments on a low mound31, she chose a position and began the sketch. It was soon finished, but it depicted32 the scene with distinctness, with the bull standing in the open a little to one side of the clump33 of scrub. George started as he saw that she had roughly indicated the figure of a man lying upon the little mound with a rifle in his hand. It struck him that she was right.
"It's a picture," said the constable; "but why did you put that fellow yonder?"
"Come and see."
They followed her to the mound, and after an inspection34 of it, Flett nodded.
"You'd make a mighty35 smart tracker, Miss Grant. I was against this mound being the firing place, because, to get to it, the fellow would have to come out into the open."
"Would that count? It was a bull he was after."
"It was," Flett agreed. "This fixes the thing."
George looked at him meaningly.
"Have you made up your mind about anything else?"
"Oh, yes," said Flett. "It was done with malicious36 mischief37. If a poor white or an Indian meant to kill a beast for meat, he wouldn't pick a bull worth a pile of money, at least while there was common beef stock about."
"Then what do you mean to do?"
Flett smiled.
"Sooner or later, I'm going to put handcuffs on the man who did this thing. If you'll give me the sketch, Miss Grant, I'll take it along."
Flora handed it to him, and he and Edgar went away shortly afterward38, leaving George with the girl. She sat still, looking down at him when he had helped her to the saddle.
"I'm afraid you have a good many difficulties to face," she said.
"Yes," assented39 George. "A dry summer is bad for wheat on my light soil, and that is why I thought of going in for stock." He paused with a rueful smile. "It doesn't promise to be a great improvement, if I'm to have my best beasts shot."
She pointed to the west. The grass about them was still scorched40 with fierce sunshine, but leaden cloud-masses, darkly rolled together with a curious bluish gleam in them, covered part of the sky.
"This time it will rain," she said. "We will be fortunate if we get no more than that. Try to remember, Mr. Lansing, that bad seasons are not the rule in western Canada, and one good one wipes out the results of several lean years."
Then she rode away, and George joined Edgar. He felt that he had been given a warning. On reaching home, he harnessed a team and drove off to a sloo to haul in hay, but while he worked he cast anxious glances at the clouds. They rolled on above him in an endless procession, opening out to emit a passing blaze of sunshine, and closing in again. The horses were restless, he could hardly get them to stand; the grasses stirred and rustled41 in a curious manner; and even the little gophers that scurried42 away from the wagon43 wheels displayed an unusual and feverish44 activity. Yet there was not a drop of rain, and the man toiled46 on in savage47 impatience48, wondering whether he must once more resign himself to see the promised deluge49 pass away.
It was a question of serious import. A night's heavy rain would consolidate50 the soil that blew about with every breeze, revive the suffering wheat and strengthen its abraded51 stalks against any further attack by the driving sand. Indeed, he thought it would place the crop in security.
He came home for supper, jaded52, dusty, and morose53, and found that he could scarcely eat when he sat down to the meal. He could not rest when it was over, though he was aching from heavy toil45; nor could he fix his attention on any new task; and when dusk was getting near he strolled up and down before the homestead with Edgar. There was a change in the looks of the buildings—all that could be done had been effected—but there was also a change in the man. He was leaner, his face was getting thin, and he looked worn; but he maintained a forced tranquillity54.
The sky was barred with cloud now; the great breadth of grain had faded to a leaden hue55, the prairie to shadowy gray. The wind had dropped, the air was tense and still; a strange, impressive silence brooded over everything.
Presently Edgar looked up at the clouds.
"They must break at last," he said. "One can't help thinking of what they hold—endless carloads of grain, wads of dollar bills for the storekeepers, prosperity for three big provinces. It's much the same weather right along to the Rockies."
"I wasn't considering the three provinces," said George.
"No," retorted Edgar. "Your attention was confined to the improvement the rain would make in Sylvia Marston's affairs. You're looking forward to sending her a big check after harvest."
"So far, it has looked more like facing a big deficit56."
"You mean your facing it."
George frowned.
"Sylvia has nothing except this land."
"It strikes me she's pretty fortunate, in one way. You find the working capital and bear the loss, if there is one. I wonder what arrangements you made about dividing a surplus."
"That," said George, "is a thing I've no intention of discussing with anybody but my co-trustee."
Edgar smiled; he had hardly expected to elicit57 much information upon the point, having failed to do so once or twice already.
"Well," he said, "I believe we'll see the rain before an hour has passed."
Soon after he had spoken, a flash leaped from overhead and the prairie was flooded with dazzling radiance. It was followed by a roll of thunder, and a roar as the rain came down. For a few moments the dust whirled up and there was a strong smell of earth; then the air was filled with falling water. George stood still in the deluge, rejoicing, while the great drops lashed58 his upturned face, until Edgar laughingly pushed him toward the house.
"As I'm wet through, I think I'll go to bed. At last, you can rest content."
George, following his example, lay down with a deep sense of thankfulness. His cares had gone, the flood that roared against the board walls had banished59 them. Now that relief had come, he felt strangely weary, and in a few minutes he was sound asleep. He did not hear the thunder, which broke out again, nor feel the house shake in the rush of icy wind that suddenly followed; the ominous60 rattle61 on roof and walls, different from and sharper than the lashing62 of the rain, began and died away unnoticed by him. He was wrapped in the deep, healing slumber63 that follows the slackening of severe mental and bodily strain; he knew nothing of the banks of ragged64 ice-lumps that lay melting to lee of the building.
It was very cold the next morning, though the sun was rising above the edge of the scourged65 plain, when Edgar, partly dressed and wearing wet boots and leggings, came into the room and looked down at George compassionately66.
The brown face struck him as looking worn; George had flung off part of the coverings, and there was something that suggested limp relaxation67 in his attitude; but Edgar knew that his comrade must bear his load again.
"George," he said, touching68 him, "you had better get up."
The man stirred, and looking at him became at once intent as he saw his face.
"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Something else gone wrong?"
Edgar nodded.
"I'm sorry," he answered simply. "Put on your things and come out.
You had better get it over with."
In three or four minutes George left the house. Holding himself steadily69 in hand, he walked through the drenched70 grass toward the wheat. On reaching it, he set his lips tight and stood very still. The great field of grain had gone; short, severed71 stalks, half-buried in a mass of rent and torn-up blades, covered the wide stretch of soil where the wheat had been. The crop had been utterly72 wiped out by the merciless hail. Edgar did not venture to speak; any sympathy he could express would have looked like mockery; and for a while there was strained silence. Then George showed of what tough fiber73 he was made.
"Well," he said, "it has to be faced. After this, we'll try another plan; more stock, for one thing." He paused and then resumed: "Tell Grierson to hurry breakfast. I must drive in to the Butte; there's a good deal to be done."
Edgar moved away, feeling relieved. George, instead of despairing, was considering new measures. He was far from beaten yet.
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1
concession
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| n.让步，妥协；特许(权) | |
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sage
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| n.圣人，哲人；adj.贤明的，明智的 | |
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monogram
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| n.字母组合 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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altruistic
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| adj.无私的，为他人着想的 | |
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analyzes
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| v.分析( analyze的第三人称单数 )；分解；解释；对…进行心理分析 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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wrecking
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| 破坏 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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discursive
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| adj.离题的，无层次的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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constable
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| n.(英国)警察，警官 | |
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caliber
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| n.能力；水准 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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conclusive
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| adj.最后的，结论的；确凿的，消除怀疑的 | |
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flora
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| n.(某一地区的)植物群 | |
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antelope
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| n.羚羊；羚羊皮 | |
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conspicuous
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| adj.明眼的，惹人注目的；炫耀的，摆阔气的 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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clump
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| n.树丛，草丛；vi.用沉重的脚步行走 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scorched
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| 烧焦，烤焦( scorch的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（植物）枯萎，把…晒枯； 高速行驶； 枯焦 | |
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rustled
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| v.发出沙沙的声音( rustle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scurried
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| v.急匆匆地走( scurry的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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consolidate
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| v.使加固，使加强；(把...)联为一体，合并 | |
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abraded
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| adj.[医]刮擦的v.刮擦( abrade的过去式和过去分词 )；（在精神方面）折磨（人）；消磨（意志、精神等）；使精疲力尽 | |
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jaded
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| adj.精疲力竭的；厌倦的；（因过饱或过多而）腻烦的；迟钝的 | |
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morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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deficit
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| n.亏空，亏损；赤字，逆差 | |
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elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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59
banished
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| v.放逐，驱逐( banish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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61
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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62
lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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63
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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64
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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65
scourged
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| 鞭打( scourge的过去式和过去分词 )； 惩罚，压迫 | |
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66
compassionately
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| adv.表示怜悯地，有同情心地 | |
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67
relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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68
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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69
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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70
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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71
severed
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| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
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72
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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fiber
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| n.纤维，纤维质 | |
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