Ranching for Sylvia Part 21

"I'm much afraid that the result of three or four months' earnest work has been destroyed this afternoon," he said. "Our allies have stirred up popular prejudice against us. We'll meet with opposition whichever way we turn."

"There's something in that," Grant agreed. "Mrs. Nelson's a lady who would wreck any cause. Still, she has closed the hotels."

"For one night. As a result of this afternoon's work, they will probably be kept open altogether. You can imagine how the authorities will receive any representations we can make, after our being implicated in this disturbance."

"Have you thought of disowning the ladies? You could do so--you had no hand in the thing."

The young clergyman flushed hotly.

"I'd have stopped this rashness, if I'd heard of it; but, after all, I'm the real instigator, since I started the campaign. I'm willing to face my share of the blame."

"You mean you'll let Beamish make you responsible?"

"Of course," said Hardie. "I can't deny I'm leader. The move was a mistake, considered prudentially; but it was morally justifiable. I'll defend it as strongly as I'm able."

Grant nodded, and Flora and Mrs. Nelson came in.

"Are you satisfied with what you've done?" Grant said to the girl.

"You might have given me a hint of it."

Flora smiled.

"I'm afraid Beamish was too clever for us. From an outsider's point of view, he behaved exceptionally well, and in doing so he put us in the wrong. I didn't know what had been planned when I left home, but, as one of the league, I couldn't draw back when I heard of it."

"You think he was too clever?" Mrs. Nelson broke in. "How absurd to say that! We have won a brilliant victory!"

Grant made a little gesture.

"If you're convinced of that, ma'am, we'll leave you to talk it over."

He led George toward the door.

"I like that man Hardie," he resumed when they reached the street.

"Beamish has him beaten for the present, but I'm thankful there'll be no women about when we come to grips with his crowd. It may take a while, but those fellows have got to be downed."

CHAPTER XII

GEORGE FACES DISASTER

A fortnight had pa.s.sed since the affair at the settlement when Hardie arrived at the Marston homestead toward supper-time. After the meal was over, he accompanied his host and Edgar to the little room used for an office.

"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 concession 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 Sage b.u.t.te 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 monogram 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 emphatic 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 altruistic; though I don't think he ever a.n.a.lyzes 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 curtly, and then turned to his visitor. "I gather that you're afraid of wrecking 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 abrupt movement.

"After all," he said cheerfully, "you'll have Mrs. Nelson beside you, and I'm inclined to think she would enliven any solitude."

Hardie smiled, and the lad continued:

"Now we had, perhaps, better be practical and consider how to get over the difficulties."

He grew less discursive when they fell in with his suggestion. George possessed 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 deferred 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 lame."

"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.