Bindloss Harold
Lorimer of the Northwest

It was possibly well that I had trouble with the teams in the stock car on the railroad journey, and that work in plenty awaited at Fairmead, for the steady tramp behind the plough stilts served to steady me. After three weeks’ endurance, the man I had hired to help mutinied, and stated plainly that he had no intention of either wearing himself to skin and bone or unmercifully overworking dumb cattle, but I found satisfaction in toiling on alone, often until after the lingering darkness fell, for each fathom of rich black clod added to the long furrow seemed to lessen the distance that divided me from Grace. Then little by little a measure of cheerfulness returned, for sun, wind, and night dew had blended their healing with the smell of newly-turned earth, a smell I loved on the prairie, for it told that the plough had opened another channel into treasure locked fast for countless ages. So hope was springing up again when I waited one morning with my wagon beside the railroad track to welcome my sister Aline.

I could scarcely believe my eyes when she stepped down from the car platform, for the somewhat gawky maiden, as I used to term her in our not altogether infrequent playful differences of opinion, when similar compliments were common, had grown into a handsome woman, fair-skinned, but ruddy of color, as all of us were, and I was embarrassed when to the envy of the loungers she embraced me effusively. The drive home across the prairie was a wonder to her, and it touched me to notice how she rejoiced in its breadth and freedom, for the returning luster in her eyes and the somewhat too hollow face told their own tale of adversity.

“It is all so splendid,” she said vaguely. “A poor lunch, you say; it is ever and ever so much better than my usual daily fare,” and her voice had a vibration that suggested tearfulness. “This is almost too good to be true! I have always loved the open space and sun, and for two weary years I lived in a dismal room of a dismal house in a particularly dismal street, where there was nothing but mud and smoke, half-paid work, and sickening drudgery. Ralph, I should ten times over sooner wash milk-pans or drive cattle in a sunlit land like this.”

I laughed approvingly as she ceased for want of breath, realizing that Aline had much in common with myself; while the rest of the journey passed very cheerfully, and her face was eager with curiosity when I handed her down at the house. She looked around our living room with disdainful eyes.

“It is comfortable enough, but, Ralph, did you ever brush it? I have never seen any place half so dirty.”

I had not noticed the fact before. Indeed, under pressure of work we had usually dispensed with small comforts, superfluous cleanliness I fear among them, and Fairmead was certainly very dirty, though it probably differed but little from most bachelors’ quarters in that region. The stove-baked clods of the previous ploughing still littered the floor; the dust that was thick everywhere doubtless came in with our last thrashing; and the dishes I had used during the last few weeks reposed unwashed among it. But Aline was clearly a woman of action.

“You shockingly untidy man!” she said severely. “Carry my trunk into my room, quick. I am going to put on an old dress, and make you help me clean up first thing. Tired? – after lounging on soft cushions – when I tramped miles of muddy streets carrying heavy books every day. You won’t get out of it that way. Go away, and bring me some water – bring lots of it.”

When I came back from the well, with a filled cask in the wagon, she had already put on a calico wrapper and both doors and windows were open wide, and I hardly recognized the dwelling when we had finished what Aline said was only the first stage of the proceedings. Then I lighted the stove, and, returning after stabling the horses, found her waiting at the head of a neatly-set table covered with a clean white cloth, which she had doubtless brought with her, for such things were not included in the Fairmead inventory. The house seemed brighter for her presence, though I sighed as I pictured Grace in her place, and then reflected that many things must be added before Fairmead was fit for Grace. I had begun to learn a useful lesson in practical details. Aline noticed the sigh, and plied me with questions, until when, for the nights were getting chilly, we sat beside the twinkling stove, I told her as much as I thought it was desirable that she should know. Aline was two years my junior, and I had no great confidence as yet in her wisdom.

She listened with close attention, and then said meditatively: “I hope that some day you will be happy. No, never mind explaining that you must be – marriage is a great lottery. But why, you foolish boy, must you fall in love with the daughter of that perfectly awful man! There was some one so much nicer at home, you know, and I feel sure she was very fond of you. Alice is a darling, even if she has not much judgment in such matters. Oh, dear me, what am I saying now!”

“Good Lord!” I said, startled by an idea that hitherto had never for a moment occurred to me. “I beg your pardon; but you are only a young girl, Aline. Of course you must be mistaken, because – it couldn’t be so. I am as poor as a gopher almost, and she is a heiress. Don’t you realize that it’s utterly unbecoming for any one of your years to talk so lightly of these matters.”

Aline laughed mischievously. “Are you so old and wise already, Ralph?” she asked. “Brotherly superiority won’t go very far with a girl who has earned her own living. As you say, I should not have told you this, but you must have been blinder than a mole – even your uncle saw it, and I am quite right.” She looked me over critically before she continued, as though puzzled: “I really cannot see why she should be so, and I begin to fancy that a little plain speaking will be good for my elder brother.”

I checked the exclamation just in time, and stared at her while I struggled with a feeling of shame and dismay. It was not that I had chosen Grace, but it was borne in on me forcibly that besides wounding the feelings of the two persons to whom I owed a heavy debt of gratitude, I must more than once, in mock heroic fashion, have made a stupendous fool of myself. Such knowledge was not pleasant, though perhaps the draught was beneficial, and if plain speaking of that kind were wholesome there was more in store, for hardship had not destroyed Aline’s inquisitorial curiosity, nor her fondness for comments, which, if winged with mischief, had truth in them. Thus, to avoid dangerous subjects, I confined my conversation to my partners and railroad building.

“That is really interesting,” she vouchsafed at length. “Ralph, you haven’t sense enough to understand women; but axes, horses, and engines, you know thoroughly. I’m quite anxious to see this Harry, and wonder whether I could tame him. Young men are always so proud of themselves, and one finds amusement in bringing them to a due sense of their shortcomings, though I am sorry to say they are not always grateful.”

Then I laughed as I fancied the keen swordplay of badinage that would follow before she overcame either Johnston or Harry, if they ever met, and I almost wondered at her. This slip of a girl – for after all, she was still little more – had faced what must have been with her tastes a sufficiently trying lot, but it had not abated one jot of her somewhat caustic natural gaiety, and there was clearly truth in my partner’s saying: “One need not take everything too seriously.”

When with some misgivings I showed Aline her room she pointed out several radical defects that needed immediate remedy, and I left her wondering whether I must add the vocation of a carpenter to my already onerous task, and most of that night I lay wide awake thinking of what she had told me. When I rose early the next morning, however, my sister was already down and prepared an unusually good breakfast while I saw to the working beasts, though she unhesitatingly condemned the whole of the Fairmead domestic utensils and crockery.

“I am breaking you in gently,” she said with a patronizing air. “You have used those cracked plates since you came here? Then they have lasted quite long enough, and you cannot fry either pork or bacon in a frying-pan minus half the bottom. Before you can bring a wife here you will need further improvement; yes, ever and ever so much, and I hope she will be grateful to me for civilizing you.”

CHAPTER XXI
THE STOLEN CATTLE

I had broken a further strip of virgin prairie, besides ploughing, with hired assistance, part of the already cultivated land, before the Indian summer passed. All day pale golden sunlight flooded the whitened grass, which sometimes glittered with frostwork in early morning, while as the nights grew longer, the wild fowl came down from the north. Aline took a strange interest in watching them sail slowly in endless succession across the blue, and would often sit hidden beside me at twilight among the tall reeds of the creek until with a lucky shot from the Marlin I picked up a brant-goose, or, it might be, a mallard which had rested on its southward journey, somewhat badly shattered by the rifle ball. Then, when frost bound fast the sod and ploughing was done, she would ride with me toward a distant bluff, where I hewed stouter logs than grew near us for winter fuel. Already she had grown fuller in shape and brighter in color with the pure prairie air.

Jasper paid us frequent visits, and seemed to enjoy being badly defeated in a verbal encounter with Aline, after which he would confine his talk to cattle-raising, which of late had commenced to command increased attention on the prairie.

“This is too much a one-crop country. Stake all on your wheat yield, and when you lose it you’re busted,” he said, soon after my return. “Now what’s the matter with running more cattle? They’ll feed themselves in the summer; and isn’t there hay enough in the sloos if you want to keep them? – while one can generally get a good fall profit in Winnipeg. I’ve been picking up cheap lots all year, and if you have any money to spare I’ll let you in reasonably.”

“You speak like an oracle, Mr. Jasper,” said Aline. “My brother is what you might call a single-crop man. One thing at one time is enough for him. Ralph, why don’t you try a deal in cattle?”

The same thing had been running through my own mind, and the result was that I wrote Harry, who, being of a speculative disposition, arranged for an interim payment, and sent me a remittance, which was duly invested in a joint transaction with Jasper, who had rather over-purchased.

“I’m a little pressed for payments just now,” he said. “Want to hold my wheat, and can’t afford eight per cent. interest. The beasts are fattening all the time, and there’ll be a high-class demand in Winnipeg presently for shipment to Europe.”

He was right; and I began to have a respect for Aline’s judgment when the papers reported that prices were rising fast, and stock-salesman firms sent circulars to this effect into the districts. But, when I conferred with Jasper, he advised me to hold on. “The figures are climbing,” he said, “and they’ll reach high-water mark just before the ice closes direct shipment.”

At last the frost commenced in earnest, and I prepared to settle down for the winter. There were improvements to be made to the granary, implements, harness, and stables, in anticipation of the coming year’s campaign, besides alterations in the house; for I felt that many things might happen before next autumn, and I desired that Fairmead should be more nearly ready if wanted to receive its new mistress.

Again, however, fate intervened, for, instead of a round of monotonous work, many stirring events were crowded into that winter. The first happened, as usual, unexpectedly, and came nearly ruining our cattle-trade venture. To understand it satisfactorily it is necessary to commence the narrative at the beginning.

It was a chilly night after a warm day. I sat beside the stove mending harness, while Aline criticized the workmanship and waxed the twine for me. The last mail had brought good news from Harry, and I felt in unusual spirits as I passed the awl through the leather, until there was a creak of wagon wheels outside, followed by a pounding on the door.

“It’s too bad,” said Aline. “We are both tired after our ride, and I was looking forward to a chance for giving you good advice, and a cozy evening. Now some one is coming to upset it all.”

She was not mistaken, for when I opened the door a neighbor said, “I’ve brought you Mrs. Fletcher. Met her walking to Fairmead across the prairie. No; I guess I’m in a hurry, and won’t get down.”

It was with no great feeling of pleasure that I led the visitor into the house; and it is curious that as I helped her down from the wagon something should recall Harry’s warning: “That fellow Fletcher will bring more trouble on you some day.”

He had done enough in that direction already, and though I did not wish Aline to hear the story, I was glad she was there, for preceding events had taught me caution. So, making the best of it, I placed a chair beside the stove, for Minnie Fletcher explained who she was, and then, while Aline sat still looking at her with an apparent entire absence of curiosity which in no way deceived me I waited impatiently. Minnie had not improved since I last saw her. Her face was thin and anxious, her dress – and even in the remoter corners of the prairie this was unusual – was torn and shabby, and she twisted her fingers nervously before she commenced to speak.

“I had expected to find you alone, Ralph,” she said; and though I pitied her, I felt glad that she had been disappointed in this respect. “However, I must tell you; and it may be a warning to your sister. Tom has fallen into bad ways again. He is my husband, Miss Lorimer, and I am afraid not a very good one.”

I could not turn Aline out on the prairie, and could only answer, “I am very sorry. Please go on,” though it would have relieved me to make my own comments on the general conduct of Thomas Fletcher.

“It was not all his fault,” she added. “The boys would give him whisky to tell them stories when he went to Brandon for the creamery, and at last he went there continually. He fell in with some men from Winnipeg who lent him money, and I think they gambled in town-lots, for Tom took the little I had saved, and used to come home rambling about a fortune. Then he would stay away for days together, until they dismissed him from the creamery, and all summer he had never a dollar to give me. But I worked at the butter-packing and managed to feed him when he did come home, until – Miss Lorimer, I am sorry you must hear this – he used to beat me when I had no more money to give him.”

Aline looked at her with a pity that was mingled with scorn: “I have heard of such things, and I have seen them too,” she said. “But why did you let him? I think I should kill the man who struck me.”

Minnie sighed wearily. “You don’t understand, and I hope you never will. Ralph, I have tried to bear it, but the life is killing me, and I have grown horribly afraid of him. Moran, a friend of the creamery manager, offered me a place at another station down the line, but I have no money to get there and I cannot go like this. Tom is coming back to-night, and I dare not tell him, so I wondered whether you would help me.”

“Of course he will,” said Aline, “and if your husband comes here making inquiries I hope I shall have an opportunity for answering him.”

I had the strongest disinclination to be mixed up in such an affair, but I could see no escape from it. There were even marks of bruises on the poor woman’s face, and when, promising assistance, I went out to see to the horses and think it over, Minnie Fletcher burst into hysterical sobbing as Aline placed an arm protectingly around her. She had retired before I returned, for I fancied that Aline could dispense with my presence and I found something to detain me.

“Ralph, you are a genius,” Aline said when I told her that I did not hurry back, “I have arranged to lend her enough to buy a few things, and to-morrow I’m going to drive her in to the store and the station. No, you need not come; I know the way. Oh, don’t begin to ask questions; just try to think a little instead.”

I allowed her to have her own way. Indeed, Aline generally insisted on this, while with many protestations of gratitude Minnie Fletcher departed the next morning, and I hoped that the affair was ended. In this I was disappointed, for, returning with Jasper the next day from an outlying farm, I found Aline awaiting me in a state of suppressed excitement. She was paler than usual, and moved nervously, and the Marlin rifle lay on the table with the hammer drawn back.

When Jasper volunteered to lead the horses in she dropped limply into a chair.

“I have spent a terrible afternoon, Ralph. In fact, though I feel ashamed of myself, I have not got over it yet.”

I eased the spring of the rifle and inquired whether some wandering Blackfoot had frightened her.

“No,” Aline answered, “The Indians are in their own way gentlemen. It was an Englishman. Mr. Thomas Fletcher called to inquire for his wife, and – and – he didn’t call sober.”

Aline choked back something between a laugh and a sob before she continued: “He came in a wagon with another little dark man with a cunning face, and walked into the room before I could stop him. ‘I want my runaway wife, and I mean to find her. Who the deuce are you – another of them?’ he said.”

I found it hard work to keep back the words that seemed most suitable, and perhaps I was not altogether successful, while Aline’s forehead turned crimson and she clenched her hand viciously as she added:

“I told him that I was your sister, and he laughed as he said – he didn’t believe me. Then he swore horribly, and said – oh, I can’t tell you what he said, but he intended to ruin you, and would either shoot his wife or thrash her to death, while the man in the wagon sat still, smiling wickedly, and I grew horribly frightened.”

The rattle of harness outside increased, and turning I saw Jasper striding away from the wagon, which stood near the open doorway, while Aline drew in her breath as she continued: “Then Fletcher said he would make me tell where his wife was, and I determined that he should kill me first. He came toward me like a wild beast, for there were little red veins in his eyes, and I moved backward round the table, feeling perfectly awful, because he reeked of liquor. Then I saw the rifle and edged away until I could reach it, and he stopped and said more fearful things, until the man jumped out of the wagon and dragged him away. I think Fletcher was afraid of the other man. So I just sat down and cried, and wondered whether I should have dared shoot him, until I found there wasn’t a cartridge at all in the rifle.”

After this Aline wept copiously again and while, feeling both savage and helpless, I patted her shoulder, calling her a brave girl, Jasper looked in.

“I won’t stop and worry Miss Lorimer now,” he said shortly. “I’m borrowing a saddle, and will see you to-morrow. Good evening.”

He kept his promise, for the next morning, when Aline was herself again, he rode up to the door and came in chuckling.

“I guess I have a confession to make,” he said, “Couldn’t help hearing what your sister said, though I kept banging the harness to let you know I was there, so I figured as to their probable trail and lit out after them. Came up with the pair toward nightfall by the big sloo, and invited Mr. Fletcher to an interview. Fletcher didn’t seem to see it. He said he wouldn’t get down, but mentioned several things – they’re not worth repeating – about his wife and you, with a word of your sister that settled me.

“‘I’m a friend of Miss Lorimer’s. Are you coming down now,’ says I.

“‘I’m not,’ says Thomas Fletcher; so I just yanked him right out on to the prairie, and started in with the new whip to skin him. Asked the other man if he’d any objections, but if he had he didn’t raise them. Then I hove all that was left of Fletcher right into the sloo, and rode home feeling considerably better.”

He laughed a big hearty laugh, and then started as Aline came out of an inner room.

“I want to thank you, Mr. Jasper,” she said. “There are people with whom one cannot argue, and I think that thrashing will do him good. I hope that you did it thoroughly.”

Jasper swung down his broad hat, fidgeted, and said awkwardly, “I didn’t figure on telling you, but if ever that man comes round here again, or there’s any one else scares you, you won’t forget to let me know.”

Aline glanced straight into the eyes of the speaker, who actually blushed with pleasure as she said: “I will certainly promise, and I shouldn’t desire a better champion, but there is at present no necessity to send you out spreading devastation upon the prairie.”

Jasper looked idiotically pleased at this, and for a time we heard no more of Thomas Fletcher, who nevertheless had not forgotten the incident. As the former had anticipated, the demand for shipping cattle still increased, and when it was announced that several large steamers were awaiting the last load before the St. Lawrence was frozen fast, Jasper rode west to try to pick up a few more head, and informed me that he would either telegraph or visit Winnipeg to arrange for the sale before returning. News travels in its own way on the prairie, and we afterward decided that Fletcher, who had returned to his deserted home, must have heard of this. Jasper had been gone several days when a man in city attire rode up to Fairmead with two assistants driving a band of stock. He showed me a cattle-salesman’s card, and stated that he had agreed with Jasper to dispose of our beasts on commission, and as the latter was waiting in Winnipeg, he asked me to ride over to his homestead to obtain delivery. This I did, and afterward accompanied him to the railroad, where I saw the cattle put safely on board a stock train, and early the next morning I returned, feeling that I had done a good stroke of business.

The same afternoon, while Aline prepared a meal, I sat writing a letter to Harry, telling him with much satisfaction how well our investment had resulted. Aline listened with a smile to my running comments, and then remarked dryly:

“I think you have forgotten your usual caution for once, Ralph. You should have gone with them, and seen the sale. I didn’t like that man, and once or twice I caught him looking at you in a way that struck me as suspicious. I suppose you are sure the firm he represented is good?”

“It’s as good as a bank,” I answered, and then grew almost vexed with her, for Aline had an irritating way of damping one’s enthusiasm. “Now try to say something pleasant, and I’ll buy you a pair of the best fur mittens in Winnipeg when we get the money.”

“Then I hope you will get it,” said Aline, “for I should like the gloves. Here is another cattleman going south.”

She placed more plates on the table, while, throwing down the pen, I looked out of the window. Here and there the dry grasses were buried in snow, and a glance at the aneroid suggested that we might have to accommodate the visitor all night, for the appearance of the weather was not promising. He came on at good pace, wrapped in a short fur coat, and I noticed that he did not ride altogether like the prairie-born. When he dismounted I led his horse into the stable before I ushered him into the room. The meal was almost ready, and we expected him to join us as a matter of course. He was a shrewd-looking young man with a pleasant face, and bowed gracefully to Aline as he said in a straightforward way:

“I thank you for your kindness, madam, and must introduce myself – James Heysham, of Ross & Grant, high-class cattle-salesmen. Best market prices, immediate settlements guaranteed, reasonable commission, and all the rest of it. Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Lorimer; here’s our card. I rode over from the railroad on the way to Jasper’s, to see if I could make a deal with you. Now’s the time to realize on your stock, and Ross & Grant the best firm to entrust them to. Don’t want to accept your hospitality under false pretenses, and there are still a few prejudiced Englishmen who look down on the drummer. Once waited on a man called Carrington – and he wasn’t even civil.”

“Sit down,” I said, laughing. “This is my sister, and at least we can offer you a meal, but you are too late to sell our stock. I have just returned from shipping Jasper’s as well as my own under charge of a new partner of Gardner’s.”

Heysham looked puzzled. “It’s a reliable firm – almost as good as our own,” he said. “You must not smile, Miss Lorimer; when one earns a living by that talk it’s hard to get out of it. But they’re conservative, and never send drummers around. Besides, there’s only Gardner and his brother – they haven’t a partner. Now I wonder whether” – and the last words were unintelligible.

An uneasy feeling commenced to grow on me, and our guest looked thoughtful.

“You suspect something, Mr. Heysham,” said Aline, “and you ought to tell us what it is. I want to know exactly what you meant when you added ‘Confidence men.’”

Then I started, and Heysham bowed as he answered: “You are evidently new to the wicked ways of this country, Miss Lorimer. I meant that some unprincipled person has, I fear, unfortunately taken your brother in. I have suspicions. Was he a little dark man, or perhaps it was another, rather stout and red-faced? Still I’m puzzled as to how they acquired the local knowledge and learned enough about your business to fool you.”

“No,” I answered with a gleam of hope, “he was neither;” but Aline broke in:

“The man you mention drove here in a wagon some weeks earlier, and I know how he got the local knowledge – the other, with the red face, was Thomas Fletcher. He lived on the prairie, Mr. Heysham, and there must have been three in the plot.”

I rose from the table, flinging back my chair, but Heysham nodded gravely.

“Exactly; there are three of them. Your sister has made it all clear,” he said. “I know the party – they’ve been engineering various shady deals in estate and produce, and now, when Winnipeg is getting uncomfortably warm, this is evidently a last coup before they light out across the boundary. The dark man was a clerk in the stock trade – turned out for embezzlement – once, you see. Still, they can’t sell until to-morrow, and we might get the night train. No chance of trade hereabout, you say; then, for the credit of our market, if you’ll lend me a fresh horse, I’m going right back to Winnipeg with you. Sit down, and finish your dinner; you’ll want it before you’re through.”

I looked at Aline, who was equal to the occasion. “You must certainly go,” she said. “Even if there is a blizzard, I shall be safe enough.”

So presently she buttoned the skin coat about me, slipped a flask of spirits into the pocket; and just before we started kissed me, saying, “Take care of yourself, and do your utmost. There are all poor Jasper’s cattle besides our own. Mr. Heysham, I thank you, and whenever you pass this way remember there’s a hearty welcome for you at Fairmead.”

“I am repaid already, madam,” said Heysham as we rode away.