Part 17 (1/2)
Broadwood rose with a smile.
”We must all agree, sir, that there's not much danger of the object you mention being realized. No doubt, there are some to whom this doesn't matter, but the rest are confronted with the necessity for making a living, and I suspect that one or two have the trouble I've experienced in paying my storekeepers' bills.”
”Don't be personal!” some one called out.
”That strikes me as foolish,” Broadwood retorted. ”One can't help being personal. We all know one another; we use one another's horses and borrow one another's cash; and it's the necessity for doing the latter that I wish to obviate. We all know our neighbors' needs, and I want to show you how they can be supplied.”
He had struck the right note with his easy humor; but Harding saw that Mowbray was not pleased.
”_You_ don't need much,” one cried amid laughter. ”You got a b.u.mper harvest, and cut down your subscription to the hounds.”
Broadwood smiled.
”I came out of the rut and worked. A rash experiment, perhaps, but it didn't prove so harrowing as I feared; and there's some satisfaction in having no debts. But my point is that you can't do much without proper implements, and I feel that we'll have to get them. The proposal I've the pleasure of seconding, shows you how.”
He sat down, and Mowbray looked up with a sarcastic smile.
”Broadwood's remarks don't take us much farther; he seems careful to avoid practical details. Now the first thing I notice about this scheme is that it is founded on combination. Its proposers are right in a.s.suming the necessity for this, if their purpose is to secure economical success; but such success can be bought at too high a price.
Carry the cooperative idea out to its logical conclusion, and a man becomes a machine. He must subordinate his private judgment, he cannot choose his course, all his movements must be regulated by central control. Then you may get efficiency, but you destroy character, independence, personal responsibility, all the finest attributes of human nature. You may object that I am exaggerating; that n.o.body wants this. The danger is that if you decide to go some distance, you may be driven farther than you think. Then, Allenwood was founded to encourage individual liberty--that settlers here might live a healthy life, free from economic pressure; on their own land, farming it like gentlemen, and not with bitter greed; enjoying the wind and suns.h.i.+ne, finding healthy sport. We demand a high standard of conduct, but that is all. We are bound to one another by community of ideals and traditions, and not by the hope of dividends.”
There was an outbreak of applause; then Kenwyne rose.
”The difficulty is that to lead our own lives, regardless of changing times and in defiance of commercial principles, needs larger means than most of us possess. The plain truth is that Allenwood has been living upon its capital, drawing upon resources that cannot be renewed, and we must presently face the reckoning. Some of us see this clearly, and I think the rest are beginning to understand. If you have no objections, sir, I will ask Mr. Harding to give us some figures.”
Harding got up and stood silent for a moment or two, conscious that all present were watching him. He felt that they were keeping the ring, and that the affair had developed into a fight between himself and Mowbray.
Harding regretted this, because the Colonel's hostility would make the secret hope he cherished very difficult to realize; but he could not act against his convictions. He stood for progress--blundering progress, perhaps--and Mowbray for the preservation of obsolete ways and means; the conflict was inevitable. Harding might lose the first round, but he knew that the result was certain. Vast, insuperable forces were arrayed against his antagonist.
”To begin with, what do you expect to gain by persuading us to join you?” Mowbray asked.
”A saving of expense and the help of the only neighbors I have at present,” Harding answered. ”My partner and I are ready to go on alone, but we can't hope to do much una.s.sisted.”
Opening the papers he had brought, he read out particulars of the cost of plowing by horses and by steam; then statistics of American and Canadian grain production and the fluctuations of prices.
”Where did you get the figures about the mechanical plowing?” Mowbray asked in an ironical tone. ”From the makers?”
”In the first place. I afterward checked them by information from farmers who have used the machines.”
”Very wise! These implements are expensive. Can you guarantee that they will work satisfactorily?”
”That would be rash. I expect a certain amount of trouble.”
”Skilled mechanics' wages are high. Do you recommend our keeping a man here in case things go wrong?”
”Certainly not! If you buy a steam-plow, you must learn to keep it in order.”
Broadwood, picturing the Colonel sprawled under an oily engine, battling with obstinate bolts, laughed aloud.
Mowbray frowned.
”Granting the accuracy of your statistics,” he said, ”you seem to have proved the economy of mechanical power, when used on a large scale. But we are not agreed upon the necessity for such a thing.”