The Land of Strong Men - BestLightNovel.com
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"They were relieved to get rid of me," Faith Winton laughed. "Shall we sit down and talk? I haven't seen you for weeks. Why didn't you come to see me once in awhile?"
"I wanted to, but somehow--"
"Never mind excuses. When I get a place of my own perhaps you will be more neighborly. I've made up my mind to build a house on my ranch in the spring."
She told him her plans. She would have a cottage built, buy a few head of stock and some chickens, break a few acres as a start and set out fruit trees. Between the rows she would grow small fruits, feed, vegetables. When the trees came into bearing she would have an a.s.sured, definite income.
Angus listened in grim silence. He had heard it all before from the hopeful lips of new settlers. Theoretically, so many bushels may be grown to the acre, a tree so many years old will bear so many boxes of fruit. This is quite una.s.sailable, proven by actual experience, by incontestable data, set out in reports which are the gospel of the new and especially the inexperienced settler. He seizes these facts avidly, but overlooks or refuses to consider a number of other things, such as drought, hail, frosts early or late, winter-killed trees, pests, poor years, low prices, and a hundred other factors which taken together make those actually used entirely misleading. But the one big factor which the inexperienced invariably refuse to consider at all, is that inexperience itself.
"I don't want to discourage you," he said, "but you know, don't you, that you can't do this work yourself. Hiring will eat up your profit."
"But there must be a margin. You hire men yourself."
"I hire two men to about three hundred acres. You are thinking of hiring about one man for ten. At that rate I should have thirty men, and the land wouldn't pay for them."
"But I could hire a man as I needed him, and what improvements I make will increase the value of the place. And when I get more cleared--"
Metaphorically, Angus threw up his hands. It was no use. Also it was impossible to tell her the truth about the property under the circ.u.mstances. With actual experience she might give up the idea. All he could do was to make the experiment as cheap as possible for her.
"Well," he said, "when the winter breaks up, if you're of the same mind, I'll do your breaking and disking for you, if you like, and seed it down to something. I can clean out the spring and run a ditch and fix it for irrigating. You needn't bother with water from the creek for a few acres. While I'm about it I might as well do the fencing and fork out the sods for a garden patch. When the sleighing is good I'll haul over a few loads of well-rotted manure."
"Thank you," she said, "but--"
"Oh, that's all right," Angus continued. "I guess you don't know much about planting trees and garden truck. I'll attend to that. I may as well order your seeds while I'm getting my own. I can run a cultivator through the garden now and then in the evenings. I can fix you up with all the tools you'll need. Then I can give you a milk cow, a nice quiet--"
"Wait, wait!" she interrupted as Angus began to think of other items.
"What are all these things and all this work going to cost?"
"Cost?" Angus echoed blankly. "Why, nothing, of course. They don't amount to anything."
"Don't they? It seems to me you're calmly arranging to do all my work yourself--the work you said I'd have to hire done."
"These are just a few little ch.o.r.es for a neighbor. n.o.body would think of charging for them. We sort of swap work about here."
"But what work could I do for you?"
"Huh!" Angus hesitated, at a loss for an answer. "Oh, lots of things.
You could--er--um--yes, of course you could."
"You can't think of one single thing I could do!"
"You could pick berries," said Angus struck by a brilliant thought.
"Yes, you could do that better than any man. I always have a lot more than I can use, and you could put up all you needed for the winter."
"And you think giving me fruit would pay for--p-pay for--"
She broke off, and Angus saw to his utter amazement that her eyes were full of tears, as she bent her head.
"Whatever is the matter?" he whispered. "Is it anything I've said?"
"It's--it's everything you've said," she murmured. "Don't say anything for a minute, please."
So Angus kept silence, sorely puzzled, and in a few moments she looked him in the face with eyes still misty and a little, tremulous smile.
"Yes, it's everything. I couldn't stand it. n.o.body else has really offered to help me. The boys think it's a joke, and Kathleen thinks I'm mildly crazy. And then you, a stranger--"
"I'm not. And I might as well put in my spare time helping you."
"You have no spare time, and I know it. I must pay for what you do."
"All right. I'll send you a bill."
"For a fraction of what the work is worth!" she scoffed. "Not that way, Angus Mackay!"
"Any way you like," Angus said, knowing that he could make it up to her.
"Very well--and thank you. I'll be an independent ranch lady--unless I sell the place."
"Has any one made you an offer?"
"No. I would rather not sell, anyway."
"You have your t.i.tle deeds all in order, in case you should want to sell?"
"I suppose so. Uncle G.o.dfrey would attend to that."
"He has the t.i.tle papers?"
"Yes. I never saw them. I don't know much about such things. Father told me Uncle G.o.dfrey had them all."
Angus dropped the subject. He could not very well suggest that she take a look at these papers. Faith Winton on her part appeared satisfied.
Presently she suggested music and went to the piano. Lying back in a chair Angus watched the soft curve of her cheek, her clean-cut profile, the certain touch of her fingers on the keys. Absently his gaze wandered to the card players. He had no idea of the stakes, but the players were tense, absorbed. Faith Winton, glancing at him, marked his expression.
"What are you thinking of?" she asked without interrupting the play of her fingers.
"I was wondering how on earth these people can sit playing cards all night."
"I hate this," she said. He looked at her in surprise. "All of it. It's not like Christmas night. It's not even sociability. It's gambling, pure and simple. Uncle G.o.dfrey and Kathleen will stop presently, but the boys will play till morning."
Shortly, the first half of her prediction was verified. The games broke up. G.o.dfrey French apologized perfunctorily. Time was when he would have spent the night in such good company, but now he was no longer young.
With him went Faith and Kathleen.
With their going the business of the evening began in earnest. A quartet stuck to bridge, but the rest embarked on a poker game. Scotch circulated briskly.
Angus, very much out of it, sat and smoked, regarding the players idly.
He noted that the French boys--Blake was absent--drank very little. On the other hand, some of the players drank a good deal. But finally he lost interest. He became sleepy and dozed in his chair.
He was awakened by loud voices. The poker game had broken up; the players were on their feet.