Chapter 14

THE SOMASCO CONSOLIDATED

Alton left Vancouver by the Quebec express next day, found horses waiting at the little station, and only waiting while fresh ones were saddled at a lonely ranch, took the trail again before the first faint light crept out of the east. He also spoke little with Seaforth during the journey, and stared at the latter, who drew rein when the weary horses plodded, steaming and bespattered all over, into the settlement.

"What are you stopping for?" he said.

Seaforth glanced at the wisp of blue smoke which hung about the pines behind Horton's hotel. "It's rather more than twelve hours since I've had a meal," he said. "Don't you ever get tired or hungry, Harry?"

Alton laughed. "Oh, yes; sometimes I do, but not usually when I'm busy. Anyway, if the beasts hold out we'll be getting breakfast at Somasco in two hours or so."

Seaforth groaned inwardly, but, knowing the futility of argument, shook his bridle and rode on, lurching a little in his saddle as the tired horse stumbled into mudholes and, brushed through dripping fern. By and by, however, Alton swung himself down in front of a lonely log-house with a big clearing behind it, where a man took their horses without a word and signed them to enter.

Seaforth stretched his limbs wearily, and would have dropped into a chair but that Alton stood erect until the man came back again, and dusting two seats with his soft hat pointed to them with a gesture of hospitality. His hair and beard were frosted, his face was lean and brown, and there were many wrinkles about his eyes, but he held himself very upright and pointed to the stove.

"Ye'll be in from Vancouver. I'll ready ye some pork and flapjacks?" he said.

Alton shook his head. "Don't worry, I can't wait," he said.

"Ye are very welcome," said the other.

"Of course!" said Alton simply; "still, I can't stop. I'm here to talk business, Callender."

Seaforth noticed that in face of the typical absence of protest or compliment there was nothing the most critical could find fault with in the invitation or the refusal. The old man was dressed in very curiously-patched jean, but he was almost stately in his simplicity, and nothing could have been more apposite than the little nod with which Alton made his affirmation. It implied a good deal more than speech could have done.

"Ye will be asking about the place?" said Callender. "I'm wanting three thousand dollars. It's worth all that."

Alton nodded, and it was evident that the men understood each other, for there was no endeavour to lessen or enhance the value of the property. "It will be worth more presently, but that's about the fair thing now," he said.

"Weel," said Callender simply, "by then I may be dead. Twenty years I've lived on my lone here, and I thought at one time I would be content to lie down by between the bush and the river, but now a longing to see the old land grips me. Ye will not understand it. Ye were born in Canada."

"No," said Alton gravely. "The land that has fed me is good enough for me."

The old man made a little gesture of assent. "Aye," he said. "It's a good country, but I feel the old one calling me. It's just three thousand dollars I'm asking ye."

Alton drew a sheet which seemed covered with calculations from his wallet, and glanced at it silently. Then he looked at the rancher.

"One thousand down, one thousand in six months, and the rest any time in two years, with six per cent," he said. "You might get the dollars in your wallet if you made the deal with a land agent in Vancouver."

"Maybe," said Callender simply; "I can trust ye. I would not sell the place to anybody."

Alton stood up. "You shall have a cheque to-morrow," he said.

They had mounted within another minute, and Alton glanced with a little smile at his comrade as they rode on again.

"That," said Seaforth, "was in a sense a somewhat effective scene, but I'm not sure which of us should go to the business school."

Alton laughed. "I don't often blunder when I deal with a man," said he. "Callender and I wouldn't have been better pleased, or five dollars richer, if we'd talked all day."

Seaforth nodded, though his eyes twinkled. "You don't seem so confident about the other sex?" he said.

Alton gravely pointed to a towering fir. "That redwood would fetch a good many dollars in Vancouver. I wonder when we'll get those saws through," he said.

While he spoke a thud of hoofs grew louder, and presently a man came riding in haste towards them down the trail. He drew bridle when he recognized them, and Seaforth became curious when he saw that it was Hallam. The latter made them an ironical salutation, and sat regarding Alton covertly with his cunning beady eyes until the rancher smiled.

"If you were going down to see Callender, I fancy you're a little too late," he said.

Seaforth wondered whether his comrade saw the wickedness in the other man's face, and the slight closing of his hands upon the bridle. It was very perceptible for a second, and then he made a gesture of resignation.

"I think there was another time you got in ahead of me, and it might be cheaper to buy you off," he said. "You haven't answered my letter asking what you wanted for all you're holding up here, as well as the ranch."

Alton flung his head back a trifle, and Seaforth knew what lay behind his laugh. "No," he said; "I put it in the stove."

A little grey spot appeared in Hallam's cheeks, and once more his fingers closed upon the bridle. "Well, you may be sorry by and by, but as I'm a business man first and last I'll give you another chance," he said. "There's not room for two of us in this valley, and with what I'm holding I can call you any time."

Alton's eyes were half closed now, and there was a glint in them. "I've been figuring on that," he said. "When I'm ready, I'll let you see my hand."

Now if Hallam had been taught his business, which was an especially mean one, in England he might have kept his temper; but he lacked finish, though his abilities were unpleasantly sufficient in the West.

"Then it is to be hoped you'll put up a better game than you did at Townshead's ranch. I was a little sorry for the girl," he said. "Met her once or twice in Vancouver, and she didn't seem well off."

Alton said nothing, but he pressed his heels home, and the big tired horse moved forward. The trail was narrow just there, and wound through a quaggy belt where tall wild cabbage grew out of black depths of mire. There was also no room for Hallam to wheel his horse on the slippery sawn-up logs, and Alton urged his beast on, glancing imperturbably at the man in front of him.

Again the grey crept into Hallam's face, and a very unpleasant look in his eyes, but he drew his bridle, and next moment his horse was floundering in the mire. Alton laughed a little as he rode on without glancing behind him.

"That may have been pleasant," said Seaforth dryly, "but in view of what I saw in Hallam's face I don't know that it was wise."

"Well," said Alton, "I think it was. There's only one way of arguing with a panther, and that beast's a good deal less dangerous than Hallam is. Now you'll ride in to the settlement to-morrow, and put up a notice at the store: 'The ranchers of the Somasco district are requested to attend a meeting at 6.30, Saturday.' At the bottom you'll put a big 'Important.' I've got to have a talk with you to-night."

He made a hasty breakfast when they reached the ranch, and was busy at the sawmill, from which he did not return until supper, all day, so that it was not until that meal was finished and he was waiting for Seaforth that he had speech with Miss Deringham. She sat by the stove apparently occupied with some delicate embroidery, but it was possible that her attention was not confined to the stitches. Alton sat near her, looking straight before him, in a deerhide chair, and it was significant that neither of them found speech necessary. The man's face was somewhat grim, and the girl wondered what he was thinking.

"You apparently did not find Vancouver enlivening," she said.

Alton laughed a little. "I took one or two little worries along, and found another when I got there."

Miss Deringham went on with her embroidery for a While, and then glanced at the man again. "I wonder if any of them were connected with the sale of Townshead's ranch?" she said.

Alton smiled a little. "I'm getting kind of afraid of you," he said. "One of them was."

Alice Deringham laughed prettily, and was inwardly contented. She had been used to influence and admiration, but there was a subtle pleasure in being the recipient of this man's homage, while she surmised that had he not offered her all of it he would not have made the admission concerning Townshead.

"Your recent neighbour is not doing well down there?" she said. "I am sorry for Miss Townshead."

Alton nodded, and his face was sombre as well as pitiful, "It's very rough on a girl of that kind, and she's true grit right through," he said. "I'm thankful you don't know what some women who have to earn their living doing what used to be men's work in the cities have to put up with."

"Still," said Alice Deringham, "I can guess. Miss Townshead was working at something uncongenial for a livelihood, and was not especially cordial to you?"

Alton looked at her gravely. "No," he said. "She hadn't even found that something yet, and she was very kind. That's what made me feel it worse."

"Of course she would not have shown you what she thought," said the girl a trifle dryly. "And you were not responsible in any case."

Alton glanced at her with some bewilderment. "No?" he said. "I'm sitting here with all that a man could wish for, while that girl, who was used to all the good things you have in the old country, walks round and round the city looking for something she can earn a few dollars at, when I might have fixed things differently if it hadn't been for Tom. It's hard to feel there's a meaner man than I am in the Dominion."

Miss Deringham saw the veins rise on his forehead and the glint in his eyes, and shivered a little as she hoped the man would never discover it was not the rancher who had brought the shame upon him.

"Would it have been possible for you to do anything to help them if you had reached the ranch in time?" she said.

"Yes," said Alton simply, "I think it would. And it would have been better for everybody in the district."

Though the girl did not altogether understand him, his very quietness was impressive, for she knew by this time that what he stated was usually rather more than less the fact.

"Well," she said lightly, "it was not your fault, and you will forget it presently."

Alton smiled wryly. "I don't know," he said. "There are some kinds of stains that don't wash out, but you're only wishing to be kind to me because you understand all that better than I do in the old country."

The girl glanced aside and dropped her needle, while when she spoke her voice was a trifle strained. "Do you know that you bushmen have made me ashamed once or twice?" she said. "I am afraid there is a great disappointment waiting for you when you see us as we are."

Alton rose as her father and Seaforth came in, with a curious little inclination of his head which came well from him. "That simply couldn't be," he said. "Well, it's a pity I couldn't tell you all you have done for me already--and that's one reason why I'm so sorry the other thing will not wash out. Now Charley and I have a good deal to do, and you'll excuse me."

He went out with his comrade, and Deringham smiled at his daughter. "He is learning rapidly. Still, I fancy the man will feel it when--and I am of course speaking impersonally--he finds you out," he said.

Alice Deringham laughed, though she was not conscious of much amusement just then, and pointed to the bookcase close by her.

"It is really not his fault, if that is where he gets his fancies from," she said.

"No," said Deringham, nodding. "We grow out of them at sixteen in the old country. Of course, Tennyson, Kingsley, Scott. Now I wonder if he would find Elaine a more common type than Vivienne if he went home to Carnaby. Still, if you look a little more closely, there is literature which might throw a slightly different light upon the man's character. I notice a bulky volume on soft-wooded trees, somebody on trigonometry, geology in relation to mining, and what I recognize as a standard work on finance and banking."

Alice Deringham smiled. "Do you know I fancy that Alton of Somasco would with a little training make his mark at home," she said. "Has he mentioned any intention of returning with you?"

Deringham's face grew a trifle sombre. "He has not. We will talk of something else," he said.

Alton and Seaforth sat up late that night, but what their conversation was did not appear until they walked into a room at the rear of Horton's store just as supper was being cleared away on the Saturday evening. The nights were already growing cold, and a pile of pinewood crackled in the stove, while the light of two big lamps fell upon the bronzed faces of grave jean-clad men, all turned expectantly towards Alton. He sat down at the head of the table, with Seaforth beside him, and Horton, got up in a frayed-out white shirt from which his bony wrists and red neck protruded grotesquely, at the foot. The rest sat on the table and sundry boxes and barrels smoking tranquilly. They were, for the most part, silent men who waged a grim and ceaseless warfare with the forest, and disdained any indication of curiosity. Nobody asked a question, but the steady eyes which watched the convener of the meeting were mildly inquiring when he rose up.

"I sent for you, boys, because it seemed the fairest thing," he said. "Now somebody has got to take hold with a tight grip if the dollars that are coming into it are to go to the men who have done the work in this valley. You have seen what has happened down Washington and Oregon way, and we don't any of us want it here in Canada. When the good time came was it the man who'd put in his twelve hours daily with the axe and crosscut who got the dollars, or the one who lived soft in the cities?"

There was a little growl from several among the assembly, for most of those who sat there realized that it was usually the mortgage broker and speculator who reaped where the toilers with axe and saw had sown.

"There'll have to be laws made to hold them fellows' grip off the poor man." said somebody.

Alton laughed a little. "Well," he said dryly, "it seems to me that the poor man should do a little of the holding off himself. Now I want you to listen carefully. Within twelve months you'll see a new wagon-road cut south towards the big river, and inside two years the surveyors running the line for a new railroad into the Somasco valley."

The men stared at the speaker, and there was a murmur, almost of doubt, and wonder. They knew what that promise meant, and it implied the opening of mines and mills, a market for all they could raise on the spot, and the quadrupling in value of every ranch. Alton sat quietly imperturbable at the head of the table.

"And you believe the thing's going to be?" said somebody.

"I think," said Alton quietly, "I have just told you so."

There was another murmur, of strong and patient men's unexpressed exultation, and Seaforth noticed that they had accepted his comrade's statement, without further question, implicitly. They were in some respects simple, and the complex life of the cities was unknown to most of them, but they had seen human nature stripped of its veneer in the bush and understood it well. It was a delicate compliment they had paid Alton, and the little flush in his face showed that he realized it.

"It's great news," said somebody.

Alton nodded. "Yes," he said. "Now I can't tell you exactly why I know this thing will come, and you wouldn't be any worse off if I were wrong. Further, you see I might have gone ahead and brought you up without speaking a word to you."

A man got up from a barrel. "No, sir," he said. "I'm not going to disturb this meeting, but that's just what you couldn't do. It wouldn't be like Somasco Harry."

There was grave applause, but the glint in the steady eyes was pleasant to see, and Seaforth felt a curious thrill as he glanced at his partner. Alton, however, proceeded quietly.

"I needn't tell you what it means," he said. "It may mean anything, including a wooden city. You know it as well as I do, but I'm going to tell you this. Unless you hold tight to your own, and do a little for yourselves, when the good time comes you'll be left out in the cold. There's a man who sees this better than you or I feeling for a grip on the Somasco valley, and there'll be very little left for the rest of us if he gets it."

"Hallam of the Tyee," a growl ran down the table.

Alton nodded. "Yes," said he. "Now you have seen poor men frozen out of their ranches and claims by men with money in other parts of this country as well as across the frontier, and there's usually only one end to the battle when the man without the dollars kicks against the man with plenty. Stay right where you are with mortgages held open, timber rights that are lapsing because you've done nothing, and undeveloped mineral claims, and the man who sits scheming while you're resting will squeeze you out one by one."

"It has happened before," said somebody, and there was silence for a space. The men had spent the best years of their life hewing the clearings that grew so slowly farther into the virgin forest, faring sparingly, and only quitting that herculean toil to earn sufficient dollars railroad building or working at the mines to feed them when they continued it again. They had sown the best that was in them of mind and body, giving all they had, courage that never faltered, as well as the ceaseless effort of over-strained muscle, and as yet their fee was but the right to hope and toil. And now, they knew, it was once more possible that the full-fleshed taxer of other men's labours would sweep what was theirs into his garner.

"Yes," said Alton. "And what has happened before will happen again--unless you stir round and stop it. That's the only use in remembering things. Standing alone, Hallam and his crowd will squeeze you out one by one; standing fast together for what is your own, you're fit to choke off anybody, and what I've called you here for is to see whether we can't fix up a Co-operative Company!"

A man stood up with a light in his eyes. "Then you've hit the thing plumb where you wanted," he said. "Whose standing in with Alton of Somasco, boys?"

There was a roar this time, and then a silence as if the assembly felt that they had done an unseemly thing, but it was evident that they were all of them ready.

"I figure you've got a programme?" said somebody.

"I have," said Alton. "I'll have a bigger one by and by, but in the meanwhile it includes the selling of timber in place of destroying it, and a doubling right off of the Somasco mill. It also takes in a gristmill, the recording of more timber rights, and most of you getting in on the ground floor of a new silver mine. There's to be an office down in Vancouver, and a desiccated fruit store, and the best men we can get hold of to run them. Now sit still while I read what might do for a scheme."

They sat very still, and even Seaforth, who knew his comrade, wondered a little, for that scheme, while crude in one or two directions, was eminently workable. It provided for a pro rata division of profits and partition of expenses, while each man would retain the control of his own holding, and those who listened nodded now and then as they noted the efficiency of some portion of the plan of co-operation.

"Now," said Alton quietly, laying down the paper. "That's my notion. I'm willing to listen if any man can bring out a better."

There was a silence until Horton rose up at the foot of the table, glass in hand. "I," he said simply, "don't think he can. Every dollar I can raise is going in, and we're all standing in with Alton. Here's the Somasco Consolidated, and to ---- with Hallam."

There was a roar louder than the first one, a clink of glasses, and forgetting their reticence for once the big bronzed men thronged about the one who smiled at them from the head of the table.