Bindloss Harold
Lorimer of the Northwest

“Colonel Carrington turned his back on them, and bade us run out the trolley along the wooden way; and I did so, against my judgment, for one of the men looked ugly, and my master wasn’t exactly a favorite. The other fellow was busy with the axe, and when he gave me a warning to get out I proceeded to act upon it – which was fortunate, for a big hemlock came down on the trolley, and all that was left of it wasn’t worth picking up. Colonel Carrington doesn’t usually give himself away, but he swore vividly, and I went with him the next day into the timber city. It’s getting a big place already. He stalked into the land agent’s office with a patronizing air, and then said with his usual frigidity:

“‘Who owns the timber lots about the Day Spring? I’m going to buy them.’

“‘You can’t do it,’ said the agent. ‘My client won’t sell, and wants to give you warning that he doesn’t like trespassing.’

“‘That means he wants a big price,’ said the Colonel, looking at the map. ‘What’s his figure?’

“And the agent grinned as he answered, ‘For the piece you require for the ore-dump, ten thousand dollars.’

“‘He is mad,’ said the Colonel, ‘perfectly stark mad. Tell him I shall dump my refuse on it, if I have to finance somebody to locate a mineral claim. What is the name of this lunatic?’

“‘Martin Lorimer,’ said the agent. ‘The crown in that case gives you the minerals; but before you put a pick into the ground you must meet all demands for compensation – and they’ll be mighty heavy ones. My client is also prepared to collect them by the best legal assistance that money can buy, and I guess you’ve given him a useful hint.’

“My respected chief just walked out; but I think he was troubled at the name,” said Calvert. “And after that there was some fresh difficulty every week, while his temper, which was never a good one, got perfectly awful, until I came away. He’ll go off in a fit of apoplexy or paralytic seizure when his passion breaks loose some day.”

Calvert furnished other particulars before he resumed his eastward journey, leaving me with much to ponder. An actively worked mine is a public benefit, and its owners usually have free access and privilege upon the adjacent soil; but I knew that in such matters as cutting timber, water, and ore and refuse heaps a hostile neighbor could harass them considerably. “Uncle Martin is going to enjoy himself,” said Aline, when I told her so.

It was some weeks later when Harry and his assistants came home, bringing with him a heavy bank draft and a wallet stuffed with dollar bills. He looked more handsome and winning than ever when he greeted Aline, and – though it needed some experience of her ways to come to this conclusion – I could tell that she regarded him with approval. He had finished the railroad work, and when he had furnished full details about it, he showed that he had thoughtfully considered other matters, for he said:

“Ralph, I guessed you would be busy altering Fairmead on opportunity, and now that your sister has turned it into a palace I should always be afraid of spoiling something; so I have arranged by mail to camp with Hudson, of the next preemption. His place is scarcely a mile away. Miss Lorimer, you don’t realize the joys of living as a bachelor, or you would freely forgive me.”

“I think I do,” said Aline. “Half-cooked food on plates that have not been washed for weeks and weeks, and a house like a pig-stye. Have I not seen my brother reveling in them? Mr. Harry Lorraine, from what Ralph has told me, there is no one I should more gladly welcome to Fairmead than its part-owner, and I am surprised that he should prefer the pig-stye. Still, in reference to the latter, is there not a warning about blindly casting?”

“There is,” laughed Harry. “I crave mercy. In token of submission I will help you to wash those dishes now.” And, being perfectly satisfied to be for once relieved of the duty, I lounged in the ox-hide chair watching them through the blue tobacco smoke, and noting what a well-matched couple they were. An hour had sufficed to make them good friends; and I was quite aware that Harry had entered into the arrangement merely for our own sake, Hudson, as everybody knew, being neither an over-cleanly nor companionable person.

When the last plate had been duly polished and placed in the rack that Aline had insisted on my making, Harry spread out a bundle of papers.

“Now we will settle down to discuss the spring campaign, if your sister will excuse us,” he said.

“Aline is already longing to show me how to run a farm. Go on, and beware how you lay any weak points open to her criticism,” I answered.

“In the first place, there is the inevitable decision to make between two courses,” said Harry; “the little-venture-little-win method or the running of heavy risks for a heavy prize. Personally I favor the latter, which we have adopted before, and, which I think you have already decided on.”

“I have,” I said.

“Then we will take it as settled that we put every possible acre under crop this spring, hiring assistance largely, which, based on your own figures, should leave us this balance. It’s a pity to work poor Ormond’s splendid beasts at the plough, but of course you wouldn’t like to sell them, and they must earn their keep. The next question is the disposal of the balance.”

“I would not sell them for any price,” I said. “My idea is to invest all the balance – except enough to purchase seed and feed us during winter if the crop fails – in cattle, buying a new mower, and hiring again to cut hay. It’s locked-up money, but the profit should provide a handsome interest, and there’s talk of a new creamery at Carrington, which promises a good market for milk. This brings us back to the old familiar position. We shall be prosperous men if all goes well, with just enough to pay our debts if it doesn’t.”

“I look for the former,” said Harry. “But with your permission we’ll deduct this much for a building fund – half to be employed at the discretion of either. You will want to further extend this dwelling, and I may buy Hudson’s place under mortgage. It would be well-sunk money, for at the worst we could get it back if we sold the property. You agree? Then the whole affair is settled, and it only remains for Miss Lorimer to wish us prosperity.”

“You are a very considerate partner, Mr. Lorraine, and if I were a wheat-grower I should be proud to trust you. May all and every success attend your efforts. Now put up those papers, and tell me about British Columbia.”

It was very late when Harry walked back to Hudson’s, while I did not sleep all night, thinking over the tremendous difference that success or failure would make to myself and Grace.

CHAPTER XXIX
CONCERNING THE DAY SPRING MINE

It was a perfect day when we commenced the ploughing, and we hailed it as a favorable augury that cloudless sunshine flooded the steaming prairie. Glittering snow still filled the hollows here and there, but already the flowers lifted their buds above the whitened sod, and the air vibrated to the beat of tired wings as the wild fowl returned like heralds of summer on their northward journey. We had three hired men to help us, in addition to the teams driven by myself and Harry; but, and this was his own fancy, it was Aline who commenced the work.

“You will remember our hopes and fears the day we first put in the share. Many things have happened since,” he said, “but once more the harvest means a great deal to both of us. Miss Lorimer – and we are now more fortunate, Ralph, than we were then – you will imagine yourself an ancient priestess, and bless the soil for us. That always struck me as an appropriate custom.”

The wind had freshened the roses in Aline’s cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she patted the brawny oxen. Then she grasped the plough-stilts, and, calling to the beasts, Harry strode beside her, with his brown hand laid close beside her white one. Theirs was the better furrow, for, tramping behind my own team not far away, I could hardly keep my eyes off the pair. Both had grown very dear to me, and they were worth the watching – the handsome strong man, and the eager bright-faced girl, whose merry laugh mingled with the soft sound of clods parting beneath the share. They stopped at the end of the furrow, and I wondered when Aline said with strange gentleness: “God bless the good soil, and give the seed increase, that we may use the same for Thy glory, the relief of those that are needy, and our own comfort.”

“Amen!” said Harry, bending his uncovered head, as, a sinewy, graceful figure in dusty canvas, with the white sod behind him, he helped her across a raw strip of steaming clod, while neither of us spoke again until we had completed another furrow. It was a glorious spring, and not for long years had there been such a seed time, the men who helped us said, while my hopes rose with every fresh acre we drilled with the good grain. I was sowing the best that was within me as well as the best hard wheat, and it seemed that the rest of my life depended on the result of it. There is no need to tell how we labored among the black clods of the breaking, or the dust that followed the harrows, under the cool of morning or the mid-day sun, for we were young and strong, fighting for our own hand, with a great reward before at least one of us. Still, at times I remembered Lee, who was in his own way fighting a harder battle against drunkenness and misery, the reward of which was only hardship and poverty. Once I said so to Aline, and she answered me: “It was his vocation; he could not help it. Yours, and I do not think you could help it either – you would have made a remarkably poor preacher, Ralph – is to break new wheat-lands out of the wilderness; for, you will remember – well, I’m not a preacher either, but not wholly for Grace or yourself.”

Women, I have since learned, not infrequently see, perhaps by instinct, deeper into primal causes than men, and there was more in her words than perhaps she realized, for though the immediate impulse may be trifling or unworthy, it is destiny that has set the task before us, and in spite of the doer’s shortcomings it is for the good of many that all thorough work stands. Many a reckless English scrapegrace has driven the big breaker through new Canadian land because he dare not await the result of his folly at home, but nevertheless, if he ploughed well, has helped to fill the hungry in the land he left behind.

It was during the sowing that Aline showed me a paragraph in a Victoria paper which said, among its mining news: “We hear that the Day Spring will probably close down pending negotiations for sale. For some time there has been friction with the owner of the neighboring property, who has also located a mineral claim, and, it is said, has exacted large sums for compensation. We understand there are indications of fair payable ore, but further capital is needed to get at it. We do not desire to emulate some newspapers in sensational stories, but there is a tale of a hard fight for this mine between two Englishmen, one of whom championed the cause of an oppressed colonist.”

“It seems cruel,” said Aline. “I am afraid Uncle Martin is very revengeful, and I wish he had not done so much. However, from what I hear, Colonel Carrington almost deserves it, and he has evidently treated Uncle Martin badly. I suppose you have not heard what caused the quarrel?”

“No,” I answered, “and in all probability no one ever will. It is, however, an old one, and they only renewed it in Canada. Uncle Martin says little about his injuries, but he doesn’t forget them.”

This was but the beginning, for we had news of further developments shortly, when Calvert paid us a second visit.

“I’m going home to England for a holiday,” he said. “Secured a very indifferent post in Winnipeg, and was delighted to hear of another mining opening in British Columbia. Now, you’ll be surprised, too. It was to enter your uncle’s service. I met him about the Day Spring sometimes, and he apparently took rather a fancy to me, while on my part I didn’t dislike him.”

“Martin Lorimer turned mine-owner! This is news,” I said, and Calvert laughed.

“Yes, and of the Day Spring, too; I’m to manage it in his interest. Now you see the method in his madness. It appears that the Colonel had pretty well come to the end of his tether – he is by no means as well off as he used to be – and in his customary lordly way he told a financial agent to get from any one whatever he could over a fixed limit. It was, as a matter of necessity, a low limit. I warned Mr. Lorimer that though there was a prospect of fair milling ore we had found very little so far, but he’s a remarkably keen old fellow, and had been talking to the miners, especially the unfortunate one who had been holding out against the Colonel’s attempts to squeeze him off his claim. Mr. Lorimer agreed with him to let it lapse and re-record it. So I went with him and his agent to sign the agreement, and felt half-ashamed when Colonel Carrington came in. Of course, I had no need to. He always treated me with a contemptuous indifference that was galling, and a man must earn his bread. Still, I had taken his pay, and it hurt me to see him beaten down upon his knees.

“He came near starting when he saw your uncle, but made no sign of recognition, as, turning to his broker, he asked in his usual haughty way, ‘Will you tell me what this man’s business is?’

“‘Mr. Lorimer takes over the Day Spring,’ said the agent, and I fancy the ruler of Carrington swore softly between his teeth, after which he said: ‘You told me it was Smithson you were negotiating with. Is there any means whatever by which I can annul the bargain?’

“‘Smithson bid beneath your limit, and then bought it acting as broker for Mr. Lorimer,’ was the answer. ‘I have applied for a record of conveyance, and the sale was made by your orders. It cannot be canceled now without the consent of the purchaser, and a new record.’

“The two men looked at each other, your uncle drawing down his thick eyebrows, which is a trick he has, and the Colonel gnawed his lip. If it had happened in the early gold days there would have been pistol shots. Then my new employer said, ’I will not sell,’ and Colonel Carrington flecked off a speck of dust with his gloves.

“‘You have bought it for less than a fourth of what I spent on the property,’ he said very coolly, ‘but if the mine yields as it has done hitherto I cannot congratulate you,’ and he stalked out of the room. He was hard hit, but he went down the stairway as unconcernedly as if he had not come to the end of a fortune, while the new owner said nothing as he looked after him. That’s about all, except that the Colonel goes back to Carrington, and my worthy employer to Mexico. He told me he had word your cousin was not well there. I wonder, Ralph, how this matter will affect you. Your relations with Miss Carrington are of course not altogether a secret.”

I did not enlighten him. In fact, I hardly cared to ask myself the question, for I could not see how the fact that he had lost a considerable portion of his property could increase the Colonel’s good-will toward me. Nevertheless, if the difference in worldly possessions constituted one of the main obstacles, as he had said it did, there had been a partial leveling, and if we were favored with a bounteous harvest there might be a further adjustment. I should not have chosen the former method; indeed, I regretted it, but it was not my fault that he had quarreled with Martin Lorimer, who had beaten him in a mining deal. The latter could be hard and vindictive, but there was after all a depth of headstrong good-nature in him which was signally wanting in the cold-blooded Colonel. I disliked him bitterly, but now I almost pitied him.

“Do you think there is any ore worth milling in the Day Spring, Calvert?” I asked presently.

“Frankly, I do. It will cost further money to bring it up, but now that I have a free hand and unstinted material I am even sanguine. We start in earnest in two months or so, and then we will see – what we shall see.”

Calvert left us the next day, and it was a long time before I saw any more of him. The next news that I had was that Grace and Miss Carrington had returned to Carrington. I rode over to see them, and found a smaller number of teams plowing than there should have been, while even Miss Carrington, who received me without any token of displeasure, seemed unusually grave, and several things confirmed the impression that there was a shadow upon the Manor. I could ask no questions, and it was Grace who explained matters as I stood under the veranda holding the bridle of Ormond’s hunter.

“It’s a strange world, Ralph,” she said in a tone of sadness. “Rupert, as you will notice, knows me well, and I never thought that one time you would ride him. Poor Geoffrey! I cannot forget him. And now your uncle owns the mine my father hoped so much from. The star of Fairmead is in the ascendent and that of Carrington grows dim.”

“All that belongs to Fairmead lies at your feet,” I said, “I value its prosperity only for your sake,” and she sighed as she answered:

“I know, but it is hard to see troubles gathering round one’s own people, though I am glad the mine has gone. It was that and other such ventures that have clouded the brightness there used to be in Carrington. Still, Ralph,” and here she looked at me fixedly, “I am a daughter of the house, and if I knew that you had played any part in the events which have brought disaster upon it I should never again speak to you.”

I could well believe her, for she had inherited a portion of her father’s spirit, and I knew the ring in her voice, but I placed one arm round her shoulder as I answered: “You could hardly expect me to like him, but I have never done him or any man a wilful injury, and until the sale was completed I knew nothing about it. But now, sweetheart, how much longer must we wait and wait? Before the wheat is yellow Fairmead will be ready for its mistress, and with a good harvest we need not fear the future.”

“You must trust me still Ralph,” she said wearily. “I am troubled, and often long for the wisdom to decide rightly what I ought to do, but when I feel I can do so I will come. Twice my father and I had words at Vancouver, and sometimes I blame myself bitterly for what I said. Wait still until the harvest; perhaps the difficulties may vanish then. Meanwhile, because I am Grace Carrington, and he would not receive you if he were here, you must come no more to the Manor while my father is away. Besides, each hour is precious in spring, and now you must spend it well for me.”

I had perforce to agree. Grace was always far above the petty duplicity which even some excellent women delight in, and she added gently: “Some day you will be glad, Ralph, that we acted in all things openly; but a fortnight to-morrow I intend riding to Lone Hollow, from which I return at noon. Then, as a reward of virtue, you may meet me.”

It was with buoyant spirits that I rode homeward under the starlight across the wide, dim plain, for the cool air stirred my blood, and the great stillness seemed filled with possibilities. The uncertainty had vanished, the time was drawing in, and something whispered that before another winter draped white the prairie Grace would redeem her promise. Counted days as a rule pass slowly, but that fortnight fled, for there was little opportunity to think of anything but the work in hand in the hurry of the spring campaign, and one night Raymond Lyle, of Lone Hollow, and another of the Carrington colonists spent an hour with us. Since Aline honored Fairmead with her presence we had frequent visits from the younger among them. Aline was generally piquant, and these visitors, who, even if a few were rather feather-brained, were for the most part honest young Englishmen, seemed to find much pleasure in her company. Lyle, however, was a somewhat silent and thoughtful man, for whom I had a great liking, and he had come to discuss business.

“Listen to me, Lorimer, while I talk at length for once,” he said. “A few of the older among us have been considering things lately, and it doesn’t please us to recognize that while nearly every outsider can make money, or at least earn a living on the prairie, farming costs most of us an uncertain sum yearly. We are by no means all millionaires, and our idea is not to make this colony a pleasure ground for the remittance-man. We have the brains, the muscle, and some command of money; we were born of landowning stock; and we don’t like to be beaten easily by the raw mechanic, the laborer, or even the dismissed clerk. Still, while these farm at a profit we farm at a loss.”

“I belong to the latter class,” I said; “and here are a few reasons. We are plowing and grain-hauling while you shoot prairie-chicken or follow the coyote hounds. We work late and early, eat supper in dusty garments, and then go on again; while you take your hand at nap after a formal dinner, and – excuse me – you look on farming as an amusement, while the land demands the best that any man can give it – brain and body. Besides, you are lacking in what one might call commercial enterprise.”

“I agree with you,” said Lyle, “especially the latter. Anyway, we have had almost sufficient of farming as a luxury, and mean to make it pay. Colonel Carrington’s ideal of an exclusive semi-feudal Utopia is very pretty, but I fear it will have to go. Now I’m coming to the point. You and Jasper have shown us the way to make something out of buying young Western stock; but we’re going one better. Breeding beef is only one item. What about the dairy? We couldn’t well drink up all the milk, even if we liked it; and we have definitely decided on a Carrington creamery, with a Winnipeg agency for our cheese and butter.”

“Bravo!” said Harry. “Ralph, that should pay handsomely. Only one rival in all this district! I see big chances in it.”

Then Raymond chuckled as he continued: “Specifications have been got out for a wooden building, a location chosen, and, in short, we want you two to cut the timber and undertake the erection. We want a man we know, Lorimer, whom we can discuss things with in a friendly way. It can’t be ready this summer, and you can take your own time doing it. The rest say they should prefer you to an outsider; and your railroad building is a sufficient guarantee.”

I lighted my pipe very deliberately, to gain time to think. Neither Harry nor I was a mechanic; but in the Western Dominion the man without money must turn his hand to many trades, and we had learned a good deal, railroad building. Neither need it interfere too much with the farming, for we could hire assistants, even if we brought them from Ontario; and here was another opening to increase our revenue.

“Subject to approved terms, we’ll take it – eh, Harry? – on the one condition that Colonel Carrington does not specifically object to me,” I said. “Where is the site?”

“Green Mountain,” answered Raymond Lyle. “As to terms, look over the papers and send in an estimate. Payments, two-thirds cash, interim and on completion, and the balance in shares at your option. Several leading business men in Brandon and Winnipeg have applied for stock.”

“Green Mountain!” broke in Harry. “That’s the Colonel’s private property and pet preserve. Coyote, even timber wolves, antelope and other deer haunt it, don’t they? He will never give you permission to plant a creamery there. Besides, I hardly fancy that any part of the scheme will commend itself to him.”

Lyle looked thoughtful. “I anticipate trouble with him,” he said. “Indeed, the trouble has commenced already. But, with all due respect to Colonel Carrington, we intend to have the creamery. He came home yesterday, and rides over to see Willmot about it to-morrow.”

When he had gone Harry laughed with evident enjoyment of something.

“The fat will be in the fire with a vengeance now,” he said, “I didn’t give them credit for having so much sense. It’s one thing to speculate and run gold mines that don’t pay in British Columbia, but quite another to turn one’s pet and most exclusive territory into ‘a condemned, dividend-earning, low-caste, industrial settlement, by Gad, sir!’ Cut down the Green Mountain bluff, smoke out beast and bird, plant a workman’s colony down in Carrington! Turn the ideal Utopia into a common, ordinary creamery! – and you will notice they mean to make it pay. The sun would stand still sooner than the Colonel consent.”

I was inclined to agree with Harry, but I also felt that if it were impossible to lessen Colonel Carrington’s opposition to myself there was no use making further sacrifices hopelessly. Even his own people had shown signs of revolt, and Grace’s long patience appeared exhausted. There are limits beyond which respectful obedience degenerates into weakness, and the ruler of Carrington had reached them.

I met Grace at the time appointed, and her look of concern increased when I mentioned the creamery.

“I am afraid it will lead to strife, and I am sorry that you are connected with it,” she said. “My father, though I do not altogether agree with him, has a very strong objection to the project, while even his best friends appear determined upon it. It may even mean the breaking up of the Carrington colony. Since the last check at Vancouver he has been subject to fits of suppressed excitement, and my aunt dare scarcely approach him. Ralph, from every side disaster seems closing in upon us, and I almost fear to think what the end will be. It is my one comfort to know that you are near me and faithful.”

Her eyes were hazy as she looked past me across the prairie. Starry flowers spangled the sod, the grass was flushed with emerald, while the tender green of a willow copse formed a background for her lissom figure as she leaned forward to stroke the neck of the big gray horse, which pawed at the elastic turf. There was bright sunshine above us, dimming even the sweep of azure, and a glorious rush of breeze. All spoke of life and courage, and I strove to cheer her, until a horseman swept into sight across a rise, and my teeth closed together when I recognized the ruler of Carrington. He rode at a gallop, and his course would lead him well clear of where we stood, while by drawing back a few yards the willows would have hidden us. But I was in no mood to avoid him, even had Grace been so inclined, which was not the case; and so we waited until, turning, he came on at a breakneck pace. The black horse was gray with dust and lather when he reined him in, spattering the spume flakes upon me. After a stiff salutation, I looked at the Colonel steadily.

“You are an obstinate and very ill-advised young man, Lorimer of Fairmead,” he said, making an evident effort to restrain his fury – at which I took courage, for it was his cold malevolence that I disliked most. “Grace, you shall hear now once and for all what I tell him. Lorimer, you shall never marry Miss Carrington with my consent.”

It may not have been judicious, but I was seldom successful in choosing words, and expected nothing but his strongest opposition, so I answered stoutly, “I trust that you will even yet grant it, sir. If not – and Miss Carrington is of age – we must endeavor to do without it.”

He turned from me, striking the impatient horse, and when the beast stood fast, he fixed his eyes on his daughter.

“Have you lost your reason as well as all sense of duty, Grace?” he stormed. “What is this beggarly farmer, the nephew of my bitterest enemy, that you should give up so much for him? Have you counted the cost – hardship, degrading drudgery, and your father’s displeasure? And would you choose these instead of your natural position as mistress of Carrington?”

“While I have strength to work for her she shall suffer none of them,” I said. But neither, apparently, heeded me, and, rapidly growing fiercer, the old man added:

“There will be no half-measures – you must make the choice. As that man’s wife you will never enter the doors of the Manor. Remember who you are, girl, and shake off this foolishness.”

His mood changed in an instant. Colonel Carrington was clearly not himself that day, for there was an almost pleading tone in the concluding words, and he awaited her answer in a state of tense anxiety, while I could see that Grace was trembling.

“It is too late, father. The choice is already made,” she said. “There are worse things than poverty, and if it comes we can bear it together. We hope you will still yield your consent, even though we wait long for it, and had you asked anything but this I should have done it. Now I have given my promise – and I do not wish to break it.”

Her voice was strained and uneven, and with a thrill of pride, leaning sideways from the saddle, I caught her horse’s bridle as by right of ownership. However, in spite of his enmity, I was sorry for Colonel Carrington. It must have been a trying moment, for he loved his daughter, but wounded pride gained the mastery, and his face grew livid. I made some protestation that we both regretted his displeasure, and that Grace should want nothing which I could give her, but again he utterly ignored me, and, wrenching on the curb, backed the horse a few paces. Then, and I shall never forget the bitterness of his tone, he said:

“First those fools in British Columbia, then the men I settled in Carrington, and now my child to turn against me in my adversity. You have made your choice, girl, and you will rue it. I will humble you all before I die.”

He caught at his breath, his face twitched, and his left hand sank to his side, but he wheeled the black horse with his right and left us without another word, while Grace sat looking after him with a white face and tears in her eyes.

“I cannot tell you what this has cost me, Ralph,” she said. “No, you must not say anything just now. Give me time to think; I can hardly bear it.”

We did not resume our journey immediately, and when we passed the next rise Colonel Carrington was far off on the prairie.